Page 53 of City Of Thieves

If he’s lied to me again, I’ll cut his dick off and make him choke on it.

The older lady keeps her paddle in her lap for the next round, the disappointment on her face letting me know the score. When I glance back at Tatiana, I can see she’s shaking.

What the fuck is up with her?

The auctioneer scans the crowd. “Do I hear seven million?”

There’s a beat of undiluted silence before her pale hand slides off her thigh, wraps around the paddle on her lap, and lifts it high, breaking all her own auction etiquette rules in the process.

“Seven million,” she confirms, her voice breathless and hesitant, but clear as fucking day.

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snarl, yanking her arm down but it’s too late.

Tatiana dips her chin, refusing to look at me. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry?

That’s all she has to say after screwing up my plans?

The auctioneer snaps to attention. “Do I hear seven-one?”

There’s no more movement in the room, except from my fist that’s inching towards the gun in my holster.

“Seven million, going once, going twice….”

“You said it was a fake.” My fingers close around familiar, cold steel. This auction house is about to become a fucking slaughterhouse unless she explains herself.

“It is, but I need you to trust me, Renzo. I know you refuse to trust anybody, but I’m begging you to… For my daughter’s sake.”

“Sold.” The auctioneer’s gavel comes crashing down like a guillotine.

The auction is over, and so is this charade. Grabbing her arm, I haul her to her feet. Whatever game she’s playing just took a very dangerous turn. There are a thousand emotions surging through me right now, and not one of them is benevolence.

“Wait,” she pleads, digging her heels into the marble floor as I drag her toward the end of the row.

“Not a chance. I’m getting us out of here before I make my ‘classless savage behavior’in New York look like a goddamn English tea party.”

She pulls back, her fingers grabbing onto a chair for purchase. “Renzo! I can’t leave! I have to sign the paperwork first.”

“Sign it later.”

“I can’t!” There’s a thick layer of panic in her voice as she fights to free herself.

People are starting to stare. The Brits have clearly never seen an American mobster lose all his fucks to give before.

“You don’t understand. The way these things…” The protest dies on her lips as her gaze settles over my shoulder.

Her reaction has me spinning round, following her line of sight to the other side of the room. But it’s the man in the slate-gray suit staring at us who sends my black walls shooting up.

His dirty blond hair has been dyed brown since we last met. A matching beard hides the scars on his face, but there’s no mistaking those fucking eyes. They’re thesame ones that looked into mine as he assured me he had a buyer willing to pay double Nero’s asking price for the “Atonement.”A private investor, he’d called him. A man of great wealth whose privacy required my brother to meet with him alone.

As our gazes collide, a slow smile stretches across his face, and three truths swing like a wrecking ball to the chest:

Vasily lied to meagain.

Oleg is alive.