“But where’s the fun in that?” Christian asked, knowing full well his father viewed him as an embarrassment. And a soon to be major drain on the family finances if he didn’t get Zoe to sign the post nuptial agreement. Then the bloody annulment papers.
He’d be free to go back to his old life. Brilliant.
“No woman’s worth the fun you have in mind,” his brother, Sebastian, said from behind him.
Christian didn’t bother to turn around. He knew Sebastian would end up at the desk beside their father. When his prediction came true, Christian let his contempt be known. “While no woman thinks your fun is worth anything.”
Of course their father smiled at Sebastian. And of course as soon as Vladimir looked back at Christian his smile turned into a sneer. “For the love of God, Christian, quit pouting and sober the hell up.”
“Really, Father, why do you waste so much time lecturing the blissfully and knowingly ignorant?” Sebastian murmured.
“Your fraternal affection is heartwarming,” Christian said, then raised the bottle to his lips for another drink.
“While your familial sense of duty is deplorable.” Sebastian’s eyes, mirror images of Christian’s held no warmth, no humor. Not even a spark of life seemed to exist there.
Vladimir held up his hands. “I don’t have time for this. Deal with it… him, Sebastian.” With those caring words, their father walked out and the two brothers were alone.
Christian took another pull of the bottle and wished for a cigarette.
“Plan on drinking yourself to an early grave?” Sebastian sounded as if he could have been talking to anyone. “It would make the divvying out of our inheritance come this August much, much simpler.”
“Go bugger yourself.”Christian hurled the bottle at him, narrowly missing his brother’s shoulder. The bottle smashed into the wall of bookcases, most likely ruining some of his father’s prized books. Excellent.
Sebastian didn’t move, merely stared at him with icy contempt. He sat on the edge of the desk. “Why are you here, Christian?”
Christian stood, throwing his arms wide and spun around. “I come at our father’s bidding. Same as you.”
“Yes, but I offer him economic value while you drain our resources.”
“At least I’m living my life. On my terms.”
Sebastian had the nerve to laugh at him. Him. “How’s that working out for you?” Without waiting for answer, he continued, “You found the woman of your dreams—twice. Married her, then sent her packing so you could play in Burma. When that wasn’t enough, you decided to start sleeping with Peaches and become a drunk—again.” Sebastian clapped. “Well, done. Bloody brilliant.”
Christian strode to the desk, knuckling the top and leaning in. “For the last time, you know her name is Kate, and we’ve never slept together. And I wasn’t playing in Burma. I was helping a man document the horrors going on in that country. The struggle for power, for people getting hurt when they happened to be in the right place at the wrong time.” He purposefully ignored the stab about Zoe. He couldn’t think of her. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before. She’d lied to him, betrayed him and laughed at him while writing. He was the model for her villain. No, not model. He was the villain.
Instead he gave a cocky smile and added, “But I am drunk and I plan to stay this way for as long as possible.”
“You’re a spoiled little boy who didn’t get his way,” Sebastian mocked.
Christian shoved his brother, knocking him off the desk. “You’re an arse.”
“I hate to see you’ve proven our father right.” Sebastian smoothed his hair and righted his tie.
Okay, he’d bite. “What, that I’m a drunken, no good son of a bitch who will never amount to anything? Didn’t think you disapproved of his opinion. Hell, didn’t know you were allowed to have an original thought.”
Sebastian pulled out his phone, thumbs moving over the keyboard. “I thought you knew what you wanted and didn’t give a damn about everyone else’s opinion. I thought you were better than what you’ve become.”
“Too little, too late.” Christian headed for the door. “I’ll be at Sasha’s if Vladimir needs to summon me.”
“You think Sasha’s on your side?”
Christian threw the door open. “He’s more of a brother than you’ll ever be.”
“He’s the one who sent your agent the pictures. And that’s not all,” Sebastian called out.
Christian froze. “Do tell.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Christian had never been one for praying, and he wasn’t too sure that if he started now God would actually listen. He did it anyway, crossing himself and murmuring the familiar words even as he hoped his brother had been wrong. Then again, if his brother was right, that meant Zoe hadn’t been lying to him.
His heart thumped against his chest.
After punching in the code, Christian let himself in the front door. The three story townhouse was silent, but he knew Sasha was home—Sebastian had said as much. The stairs barely made a noise as he jogged up them to the master suite.
“Wake up,” he growled, striding into Sasha’s bedroom.
Sasha stirred and mumbled something in his sleep.
“I said, wake up.” Christian moved to the bed. He ripped away the sheets, grabbed a glass of water left on the nightstand and poured onto his cousin’s head.
“Holy hell!” Sasha bolted up in bed. Water plastered his hair to his head and dripped off his nose. “Are you trying to drown me?”
“I’m here for answers about the crimes you’ve committed against me.”
“Guilty without a trial—thought you’d embraced American ideals.” Sasha rose and crossed the room, disappearing into the bathroom. His infuriatingly calm manner did nothing for Christian’s blood pressure.
“Well?” Christian asked when Sasha reappeared.
Sasha ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in some places. “I was bored.”
“Bored?”Christian fought the urge to punch his cousin in the face a couple hundred times. “I don’t believe you.”
Sasha shrugged.
Christian sat in one of the chairs that flanked the fireplace. “I’m not leaving until you give me the truth.” Childish, yes, but he was at a loss at what to do next. He needed answers. Answers that only Sasha could give.