Her face is a blank mask, revealing nothing either way. At least not until I catch a glimpse of her eyes darting toward me, probing and elusive.
You aren’t the only one hurting from the past, Fabio snarled. He’s right, of course. Though he confronted the wrong party to sprout his idea of peace to—it’s not a question of whether or not I could use her as a partner.
Would she ever agree to see me as the same?
The answer feels as thready and halting as Vin’s breathing, though I’m determined to hazard a definitive guess.
Hell no, she wouldn’t—and I couldn’t blame her.
15
Evgeni
I wait for her to laugh, proving her morbid statement to be yet another joke.
She doesn’t.
So, I bite. “He wants to blow up the city. Why?”
A knowing smile replaces her wide-eyed expression. In the blink of an eye, she’s coy again. Gripping the towel around her waist, she skips past me, entering the main suite, dripping water as she goes.
“I wish I had the foresight to pack,” she says, frowning at her crumpled dress. “Oh well.”
She readjusts her towel to cover her torso and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Enough games,” I snarl. “You like it rough, do you? Maybe you’ll be more willing to talk if I put my hands around your throat a second time—”
“He wants power,” she blurts as I take a step toward her. “He wants to make a splash. Be seen. Be heard. He wants to cause a diversion large enough to move against several big players at once, Mischa Stepanov among them. He won’t blow up the entire city, mind you. It’s strategic—”
“Do you know where?” I don’t know if I believe her in the first place. It sounds insane. Fantastical.
It sounds exactly like the move of someone desperate to shake up Hell’s Gambit and make a name for himself. I’ve worked for Mischa long enough to know the type. Few men can rise to the top of this city’s power structure without a bit of shock and awe.
“I don’t,” she admits. “I know he plans on watching the show, though. From a boat, I think. One of the Saleris’—”
“I know the one,” I say. A forty-footer Gregori loves to parade along the coast. “I could head him off myself. Demand answers.”
If he resorts to utilizing a lone woman to do his dirty work, how formidable can he be?
As if reading my mind, Briar laughs. “You wouldn’t even make it onto the water. Unless it’s as a corpse.”
Her tone lacks the mocking lilt I’m used to. “You really are afraid of him.”
“You would be too if you’ve seen a fraction of what I have.”
“I’ve seen enough in my day to fear no man.”
She scoffs, kicking her legs into the air. “Well, we can’t all be as stone-cold as you. What with the things you’ve done...”
It’s a statement designed to get a rise out of me. To distract.
It works.
“You know what isn’t on that list?” I counter harshly. “Letting my child be taken by someone I deem a madman.”
“Oh, touché.” She giggles. “I guess you never loved that Willow girl, then. Despite you being faithfully by her side all those years?”
My eyes narrow. “If you won’t let me contact Mischa, then tell me. What is your plan?”
She scrambles to the other side of the bed to put her back to me. “My plan was to be on a beach in Tahiti by now.”
“But you’re not. So why stay? Why leave him? Why try to ask a man you hate for help?”
Her response is so soft I have to strain to hear her. “My perfect sister has a wee little accident, and the most powerful man in the city loses his goddamn mind.” She makes it sound hilarious, like some marvelous joke. If I weren’t used to the cadence of her voice, I’d miss the harsh note lurking beneath. “He should have been smarter,” she adds. “He should have seen through it all then. He should have gone after the threat head-on and not be so damn predictable.”
“Your Johnathan planned this,” I surmise. “But not to get the harbor.”
“Who knows?” She scoffs again. “We’re all just little pawns to him. Pieces on a game board he believes he can move around at will. And like little puppets, they all fall into his trap. Except for your Willow,” she adds, meeting my gaze directly. A hint of what could be admiration sparkles in her gaze. “She’s spoiled his perfect plans.”
Willow. That name is the least I expect to hear dragged into this mess. “How?”
“She’s brought the two men he wanted to kill each other to the same table. I doubt she’s smart enough to keep it up, but boy was he pissed when he found out.”
“Found out what?”
“About their ‘engagement.’” She makes air quotes but doesn’t seem to notice my reaction.
Engagement. To Donatello Vanici?
Damn, I don’t know why I’m so shocked. Mischa alluded to the bastard’s plan for vengeance. I just never thought the son of a bitch truly meant to go through with it…
“But after tomorrow, he’ll still come out on top,” the woman says. “I don’t think anyone can stop him.”
“Why tomorrow?”
“He aims to strike several places at once. But like I said, I never knew his plan in full. Just what I’ve told you.”
An explosion in the city.
A ploy to cause a rift between the Stepanovs and Vanici.
Working with both Salvatore and the Saleris.
“There has to be a way to get to him,” I say, picturing the marina. I’m not familiar with the area, but no time like the present to learn. “I have contacts I can use.”
I withdraw my phone and message Mario again, unsurprised when he doesn’t reply right away. Will anyone pick up my call after learning of the rift between Mischa and myself? A question for another day.
Still, I don’t let her see my doubt.
“Slow down, hero,” she scolds. “There is another way… I go skipping back to him with the information he
