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He chuckles. “I bet that made him happy.”
Half turning, I aim a sly smile at him. “What can I say? He likes me.”
“Yes,” Semyon says. “I bet he does.”
His guards lead us into a sitting room without laying a finger on me. It’s unbelievable they’re this trusting because I’m a woman. Lorcan bringing me on as a bodyguard seems like a pretty smart move now. Derry underestimated me, now Semyon is doing it too.
“So.” He pours me a glass of vodka and passes it. “How did you know I knew Vivian Lee?”
“I was under the impression you had a business arrangement. I only found out yesterday. She was on her deathbed. She asked me to come collect what was owed to her. Apparently, you didn’t fulfill your end of the contract.”
Semyon freezes and then chuckles. “You think you’re so slick. I know Vivian’s memory was not what it once was.”
“Indeed. And, had she lived longer, it might have been true she’d forgotten. It wasn’t her Alzheimer’s that took her. It was pneumonia.”
He screws the top on the bottle of vodka, his back to me. Resting my hands on my thighs, I take stock of my weapons and which of them I can reach the quickest, eliminate the most targets.
“Lorcan doesn’t know you’re here. Neither does Finn.” He sighs. “I was hoping you’d be a good match for one of my boys. Or at least a pleasant distraction. Seems I miscalculated.”
“Women aren’t toys.”
“The best ones are.”
“I want Vivian’s money. You broke the contract.”
Semyon chuckles and whirls around, his men tense. “You come to my house to make demands? You may not be a toy, but you haven’t got many brains in that lovely head of yours.”
“You broke the contract.”
“We had no contract. We slept together a few times. She paid me some money for my time.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’re the prostitute in this situation?” My heart races, and a thin sheen of sweat coats my palms. Setting down my glass, I ease my hands along my thighs. Assuming he lets me leave, I need to be sober enough to drive out of here.
The thought of my mother sleeping with this man is repulsive. She should have told me what she was trying to do. I could have helped her.
“You think making me mad is going to get me to tell you something? No. No, that’s not how this works. Honey works better than vinegar.” His gaze roams over me.
He’s not getting any honey out of me. “Did you fulfill your part of your agreement with Vivian?”
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Did her payment do that?”
He looks at me for a minute and shakes his head. “What did I tell Lorcan about fishing?”
I lean back in my chair and stare. My fingertips brush up against my gun. “I’m not Lorcan. And I’m not fishing.”
“What would you call this exercise, then?”
“It’s a friendly conversation between Vivian’s proxy, the executor of her will and estate, and a man who owes that estate money.”
“I owe her estate nothing. Eamon Donaghey is dead. You cannot prove I did that nor can you prove I did not.”
“So she got screwed over in more than one way by you.”
His granite gaze meets mine as he throws back the last of his drink. “I liked Vivian. But she was two things I could not tolerate. Consumed by revenge. Consumed by disease. One of those, maybe. But both? No. No. She was a shell of a woman. A beautiful shell. She had nothing left to give anyone except death and destruction. Her family was dead, and she wanted to light the world on fire.”
Hearing him speak about my mother that way is almost enough to call my bluff. It’s too fresh. “That’s rich coming from you.”