Page 82 of Tamed Enemy
“He didn’t take her. She went.”
“Went where?”
“To Indonesia.”
“My baby girl is inIndonesia?” Mam wails.
I might as well have told her that Breagha was sex-trafficked to a harem in the Middle East. At least if that was the news,Nikolai Tarasov might have some business contacts to bring her home.
My mother recovers more quickly than I expected she would. “My little Breagha eloped. No church, no priest… I didn’t even get to buy a new dress.”
“That’s right, Mam. This is all about your dress. You couldn’t possibly wear that gold one again.”
“You spiteful little—” She cuts herself off, remembering she still needs something from me. “Give me her address.”
“I don’t have it.”
“How can I reach her?”
“She’ll call if she wants.”
“How will the pair of themlive?”
“Happily ever after, I expect.”
Mam starts to sob, violent uncontrolled hiccups. “Y— You can’t under— understand. You’ve nev— Never loved anyone. You?—”
“I’m sorry Sunday Roast’s been ruined, Mam. Ask Cook about that pizza. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
I end the call.
I know this won’t be the end of things. My sister married for love, but her defection has created a serious loss for Tarasov. His plan to force her to the altar with Ilya Danilov was half his bid to control the Canton Crew forever.
Breagha. Me.
We’re the two keys to controlling the Irish mob in Baltimore. And with my sister safely half a world away, that leaves me.
Tarasov rallies even faster than Mam did. A text arrives in minutes.
Nikolai Tarasov
You will file for divorce by noon tomorrow
Suck my nonexistent dick
Such a biting reply
You will not bite once you are my wife
I will wear your teeth on a necklace
Do you ever get tired of sounding like a third-rate villain in a monster movie?
Tomorrow
Noon
Or what?
