Page 39 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species

“No.”

Stilettos gave a dismissive hand gesture. “If he owed you money, I’m sorry, but you won’t see a dime from me. Everything I have come from my father, not from that low-life ex-husband I made into a man…”

“Mrs. Vrabcheva—”

“Ms. Bogdanova. I’m using my maiden name.”

“All right, Ms. Bogdanova. Your husband – the former Minister of Transportation – was found dead in a rented apartment…”

“That,he was.” She pursed her lips. “I still can’t believe it happened so fast…”

Zacharia smirked. This woman did not grieve for her husband, though she may pretend she did.

He decided it was time to press harder. “Did you know he had a mistress?”

Stilettos inspected her manicure. When she looked up atZacharia again, the playful sparkle in her eyes was gone. “Listen, big boy – I don’t know why you’re following me, but surely you don’t expect me to air my husband’s dirty laundry, especially in front of strangers who crash my breakfast.”

The waiter slammed a large plate with an omelette, toast, and orange juice onto the table. “I’ll have the same.” Zacharia made his order and smiled at Stilettos. “If we dine together, I won’t seem like an intruder, right?”

She began to eat with impeccable manners, ignoring him.

“You have a son,” he said. “How would he react if he saw the pictures with that gigolo, who’s younger than him?”

Stilettos swallowed her bite. “Eugene is not a gigolo! He’s just a very ambitious young man! As for my son – he’s only interested in alcohol and girls, so he wouldn’t be disturbed by these pictures.”

“And what if your life was in danger?”

Her eyes pierced his. “Are you threatening me, big boy?”

Zacharia shook his head. “I’m warning you. Your husband didn’t die of a heart attack. He was murdered. His mistress, too.”

Stilettos took a sip of her juice. “I don’t believe you.”

“And I don’t expect you to just because of my honest blue eyes.” Zacharia dug out the photo with the evidence on his phone and showed it to her. It had been taken hours after the box containing the severed head of Kaliope Gazis had appeared in front of the Hospital. The witch’s black hair, covered in dried blood, and her face frozen in fear, were distinguishable even in death.

Clearly, Stilettos recognised them, too. If she was frightened, she didn’t show it. Instead, she cleared her throat. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Maybe nothing.” Zacharia shrugged. “But didn’t you find it odd that your husband suffered a heart attack?”

Stilettos raised her chin. “Why would I find that strange?”

“I read an interview where he claimed to lead a very healthy lifestyle.”

“So?”

“He had no cardiovascular diseases – actually, no diseases at all… Tell me, at the time of his death, how long had you known about his affair?”

The ex-Mrs. Vrabcheva threw a crumpled napkin onto her half-eaten plate. “Our chit-chat ends now. If your goal was to warn me – thanks, I’ll be careful. If you’re trying to fish out information about my husband, it’s not happening. You can’t scare me with a severed head – that could be Photoshopped. That woman might have even sent you to make stupid jokes at my expense.”

She pulled out some banknotes from her purse.

Zacharia leaned across the table. “Why would she jest with you after the minister’s death? Did you know her in person?”

Stilettos stood up. “Don’t bother approaching me again.”

The waiter arrived with Zacharia’s meal.

“Enjoy your breakfast, big boy.” Stilettos slung her small purse over her shoulder and walked away.