Page 74 of Crimson

“Your fiancée will be fine alone here for a moment,” Zavier said insistently. “You don’t mind, do you, Nadia?”

“No,” Nadia said without quite looking at them. “Go ahead, Nik.”

Her use of that sweet little diminutive was like an arrow in his heart. He wanted to refuse to go with his father. But it was better to get it over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

29

Nadia

I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth.

Scott Westerfield

Nadia waited in her seat while the lights began to dim, and the first strains of music rose up from the orchestra pit. But as soon as she thought Nikolai and his father would have walked some distance down the hallway, she slipped out of her seat and out of the balcony box.

She spotted Nikolai’s tall, upright figure just disappearing around the corner at the end of a long hall. She followed after him.

One of the things that she learned quickly as a mafia princess was never to eavesdrop. Secret conversations were always taking place at family parties, at dinners, in offices, and in side rooms of your own house. And you must never follow anyone, must never listen in, even if it was two people speaking in low tones only five feet away from you.

Because schemes, plans, and secret agreements were part of the Bratva life. Information was the currency of their world, more valuable than gold. And knowing something you weren’t supposed to know could get you killed.

Sometimes, however, you cared more about knowing the truth than your own safety.

And this was one of those instances.

Nadia needed to know once and for all what was going on with Nikolai and his father.

It was obvious they were doing some kind of deal with the Ministers.

And it seemed clear to her that the deal involved her, in some way.

So, she waited until the whole group had gone through the door at the end of the hall. Then she followed after them.

She loitered in the hallway a moment, making sure that no one else was coming. Then she drew close to the door, trying to determine if she could hear anything through the thick wood.

She couldn’t hear a thing, not the slightest murmur of voices.

She paused for a moment, deliberating. She had no idea what was through that door—it might be a single room, where her entrance would be immediately obvious. Or it might be an entire suite of rooms.

She heard someone coming down the hall. She quickly pretended to be absorbed in a painting of the Battle of Waterloo.

“Can I help you with something, miss?” a polite voice said.

She turned and a saw a mustached waiter, holding a tray of drinks.

“Oh,” she said, in her most innocent tone, “I was just waiting for the performance to start.”

“It started five minutes ago, miss. Can I help you find your seat?”

“I think I’m supposed to be in there,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the door through which Nikolai had disappeared.

“That’s a private viewing room, miss, and I’m afraid it’s booked for the night. Do you have your ticket?”

Nadia pretended to search in her little handbag.

“Oh, there it is,” she said. “I’m just in the balcony. I’ll go back this way.”