I slip another olive into my mouth. Two down, two to go.
A woman in a deep-plunge dress sidles up to the Russian, brushing his arm as she waves down Lena. He stiffens at the contact. He’s a man who doesn’t appreciate people encroaching on his space, no matter how perky their tits are. He moves away from the woman trying to make a move on him. It puts him within arm’s reach of Lena, who is twisting a corkscrew into the top of a wine bottle. Her hand slips and she jerks forward slightly.
I see the pain that darts across her face. Hear her quick intake of breath. Despite her efforts to hide her reaction, I know she’s hurting.
Lena was shot last night. She should be in bed, resting. Not working on her feet for hours on end.
Why does she have to make things so difficult?
Despite everything I said to Johnny earlier, I’d much rather Lena was locked in a bedroom right now. Her disobedience must be rubbing off because I can’t stop my brain from thinking about whose bedroom, or what her hair would look like spread out on that bed, or how dark her eyes would get as I sucked those nipples that were so hard for me earlier…
Vaffanculo. No, no. Lena needs to stay in bed torest. She’s not nearly as efficient tonight as she usually is, her movements behind the bar too slow and stilted to conceal any attempt toslip drugs into women’s drinks. My supposition that I’d be able to catch her in the act tonight has been blown out of the water by the fact that her injury has knocked her off her game. Lena needs to recuperate so she can get back to all her nefarious activities and I can clear or condemn her, once and for all.
I grab her elbow, supporting Lena’s right side as she resumes opening the bottle.
Her eyes flash fire at me but she doesn’t pull away. Shit, she must really be hurting.
The Russian is studying her. “Are you alright,malyshka?”
Lena pulls the cork free with a pop, discomfort flashing through her eyes once more. “Yes, fine. Thanks.”
She’s still holding the bottle when theArkhangelreaches across the bar and wraps his hand around hers. Lena has been friendly, casually flirty with him since he arrived, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the hostilities brewing between him and me. But her smile drops abruptly as he grinds her fingers between his hand and the hard bottle.
“It’s not polite to lie,dorogaya.” His eyes flick down to her right side, like he can see through her standard-issue catering vest and button-down shirt. “You’re certain you aren’t in pain?”
“Let her go.” I growl, cutting through the growing din of the cocktail chatter around us. The crowd is bigger now, more bodies jostling around us as curtain call approaches.
The Russian shakes his head. Cocky fucker. “But we’re not done our conversationbratan. The lady has yet to answer my question. And I came here especially to ask it.”
“I thought you came here for the performance.”
He chuckles. He watches me drag the final two olives off the pick, laughing more when I swallow them whole. “You know how busy men like us are, those of us tasked with—what do your people call it, thelupara bianca? Always so much to do, so many people to…um, see. Sometimes we just have to multitask. Time is always of the essence.”
Without warning theArkhangeljerks Lena forward, the force and angle just right so that her injured side hits the bar. If I needed proof that he was on the other end of the sniper’s scope last night, this is it.
Lena sucks in a startled scream.
The assassin’s eyes never leave mine, not even when I stab the metal cocktail pick deep into the wooden bar a bare millimeter from where he’s resting his free hand.
The fucker is trying to provoke an international mob war. And I thought last night went sideways. “This is you playing nice, huh?”
All pretense of politeness drops from his face and I’m looking at a man I’ve seen in the mirror more times than I can count: a calculated killer. “She’s still alive, isn’t she?”
I’m about to lay into him, mob diplomacy be damned, when Lena cuts in. “Let me go, now. Before I call security.” Her voice is thin but doesn’t waver. The blood has drained from her face but she’s not going to be pushed around. God, the balls on this woman are impressive.
The Russian shifts toward her and, surprise in a long line of them, actually looks ashamed. “My apologies,dorogaya, I don’t mean to bring you more pain, but I want to make sure you—both of you—understand the reality of the situation. As charming as your sexually fraught banter is, time is, as I said, of the essence.”
The wood splinters in the bar as I rip the cocktail pick free. With one step, I have it against his jugular, my left hand still holding Lena steady by the elbow. “If expedience is what you’re after,pezzo di merda, I suggest you let go of my fiancée, say what you came to fucking say, then leave. While you still can.”
The Russian’s gaze widens at the wordfiancéebut, accurately assessing just how close he is to bleeding out all over his tux, he looks me dead on. Speaks so quietly only I can hear him. “I’ve ignored every rule I follow to be here,bratan, becauseI think you and I share a code. One I almost broke last night.” He indicates to Lena.No women. No children. “I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known. There’s going to be hell to pay when my client realizes I didn’t complete the hit. A first for me, I can assure you.”
He continues, “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I’m going to say this all the same: this woman you’ve taken under your protection is at the center of a shit storm so large I can’t begin to understand it. She’s more than a name on a ledger; she’s the eye of the fucking hurricane. And the time is going to come, sooner rather than later, when neither you nor any amount of luck is going to be able to hold back the people gunning for her. Understand?”
Not even a fucking little bit, but I nod. The Russian releases Lena’s hand and steps back. Her bodyweight sags into my palm and I lower my makeshift weapon, tracking the man’s every move until he’s out of arm’s reach.
The crowd in the lounge is clearing. Somewhere in the back of my racing brain, I hear the theater bell calling everyone to their seats.
As the room empties, so does Lena’s strength. I don’t want to look away from theArkhangel, but I feel her starting to collapse against the bar.