Page 115 of Beautiful Secrets

“Moscow.” I shrug, keeping my eyes on Dimitri, addressing the fucking boss of this excuse for a Bratva instead of the rogue operative who’s less than two yards and closing. “Said that’s where she used to live.”

“Da.” Dimitri’s eyes flicker to Lev, then back to me. His face hardens, and the moment he drops his gaze, my stomach wants to twist itself into a fucking pretzel. “But that was a long, long time ago.”

Fuck.

I don’t like the tone in Dimitri’s voice.

Not. One. Fucking. Bit.

“So what exactly is the problem here?” I say, wishing I didn’t sound seconds away from passing out. “You pissed because little Yuri here doesn’t get his revenge?”

You could have heard a drop of sweat hitting the ground—and it might have been mine or Dimitri’s. Suddenly this feels less like a drop and more like a trap.

“What? Think I kept her gagged this whole week?” I tell them. “Mika talks. A lot.” I catch a frown from ole’ Lev, but ignore him. “Especially about you.” I point at Yuri, and his eyes go to slits like I’m pointing a gun, not a finger. “Seems she’d rather go back to Russia than marry your brother.” I shrug again. “She can be very persuasive.”

Lev puts away his gun, but his expression is just as severe as before. “Which flight did she take?” he asks, pulling a phone from his pocket.

“The one that left like an hour ago, I don’t know.”

“Govno,” Lev mutters, but he’s already turning his back and stalking away to make his call.

“So listen, about the money…”

Everyone except Yuri had been watching Lev. Now everyone looks back at me.

Dimitri snarls, but I lift a hand to cut him off before he can say anything. “I don’t want it.”

Vasiliev’s face falls, and then wrinkles into a frown. “You don’t…want five million pounds?”

I laugh, look up at the derelict ceiling. Wonder how many pigeons call this place home? Judging from the state of the floor, must be a good thousand or so.

“The deal was five mill for Mika. I didn’t bring Mika, I don’t expect the five mill.”

“Because you let her run away.”

“And?” I scoff at him, and then gingerly reach into my pocket to pull out a smoke. I fucking need one after this hopscotch game of political bullshit. “She’s twenty-six, for fuck’s sake. Let her get a life.”

I swear if I hadn’t just lit a smoke, I could have blamed the plume of smoke I exhale to be from the sudden drop in temperature.

Yuri steps forward, cocking his head to the side to study me. “Who are you, Hendry?”

“Well, you know my last name. First name’s Cole.” I stick out my hand for a second before letting it drop to my side. Fucker’s probably got rabies.

“What makes you think you can come in here and decide our people’s fate?”

“Fate?” I tug at my cigarette. “You all have to loosen up a little. She went to Moscow, not Mars.”

Yuri laughs. “She is not welcome there anymore.” He glances back at Dimitri as my skin tries to crawl right the fuck off my body. “No Vasiliev is.”

“I’m sure her granny will take good care of her. That’s what grannies do.”

Yuri faces me again. He’s still wearing a smile, but it’s a god awfully ugly thing. Makes me think of a wild dog before it pounces. A wild dog with rabies.

“Varinka. Yes.” He drops his gaze, and then gives me a sidelong glance. “I remember her. Lovely lady. Headstrong, like all Vasilievs.” He points at me, wags a finger. “Vanya takes after her. Mika too. They all like to fight.”

An uneasy chuckle slips out before I can stop it.

I’m dimly aware of Lev talking somewhere behind me, but it’s in Russian so I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s saying.