I wish I could argue with that, but Adrian has met my parents. He knows exactly what kind of people they are.
He shakes his head like that’ll dislodge the thoughts running through it. “Well, f**k them. If you’re missing Geneva, I could try and track her down for you,” he offers. “If that would make you happy.”
For all that this whole situation is insane and bizarre and I want nothing more to go running to the police—something that Adrian has warned me several times will only end in disaster, because the Uvarov Bratva has half the damn force on their private payroll—he really does seem to be intent on making me happy. Trying to, at least.
But some things are just beyond reach for the time being. “I don’t think so. Geneva and me—well, we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”
I tur
