Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

D’Angelo

My good mood following my date with Oliver and his brother lasted all the way until my meeting with the Russian representatives the following day.

Although it was the Russians who had insisted on meeting in Baltimore, they remained tightlipped about why they chose the location, or what the actual issue was. That left me eventually standing outside of the American Visionary Art Museum and not entirely sure what I would face at the meeting. The museum was on the southern side of the Inner Harbor. I could see the masts of the ships I’d visited with Oliver and Rowan from my position on the front steps.

Less than twenty-four hours, and I stood in practically in the same place, yet my mindset couldn’t have been more different. There was nothing soft or intimate about the role of the Bianchi family leader.

“It’s quaint, isn’t it?” someone said when they stepped up beside me.

I vaguely recognized the voice, though it took a moment for me to place the face.

She was known only by her surname, Aslanov. No one knew her first name, and I’d never needed to know, so I never went to the trouble of looking. So blonde her hair nearly looked white, the thick curls were pulled back into a painfully strict ponytail. She was tall for a woman, and in heels she nearly equaled me in height.

We’d met twice before. Once when I was very young, my mother brought me to Russia to meet my relatives on her side. Then once at my indoctrination as the head of the Bianchi family. Both times, she had been standing as the Pahkan’s right-hand-woman.

She was an accomplished middleman in the Russian Mafia.

To see her alone now was... odd, and slightly terrifying. If the leader of the Russian mafia was personally involved, then there was no hope of this incident blowing over easily.

“What’s quaint?” I asked while looking around for Aslanov’s security. Just like my own bodyguards, a pair of armed men loitered around the area. To the casual observer, they probably just looked like museum guests, but I recognized the stance of someone armed and ready for action. It was the same stance my own bodyguards wore like a uniform every day.

They were also entirely superfluous, and probably just for show. Aslanov didn’t actually need bodyguards. There was a rumor that she’d once killed an entire squad of secret service agents, as well as the dignitary they were protecting, with only the heel of her shoe. It was a ludicrously violent story, and I absolutely believed it.

Aslanov pointed out to the other side of the harbor. “Little Italy. The alliteration just rolls off the tongue.”

She didn’t grin, but there was a gleam in her eyes that reminded me of a shark’s smile.

Little Italy?

I hadn’t really thought about it, but just on the other side of the harbor lay a neighborhood that had been established by the Italian immigrants who first came to the area. It was also once a stronghold for the Italian mafia, though we had moved out of the area by the mid twentieth century. Now, it was mostly just a regular neighborhood with an interesting backstory.

Was this meant to be some sort of hint?

A threat?

I’d wondered about the location of the meeting since learning the address. An art museum seemed like an odd choice.

The American Visionary Art Museum wasn’t a particularly big building, certainly nothing compared to the skyscrapers of New York, but it had an odd design. Mostly cylindrical, the outside was almost entirely covered by a swirling silver mosaic.

I couldn’t see a reason to meet at such a place, but perhaps the building wasn’t important. Perhaps the real message was in the location, lurking just across the water from Italian territory.

Aslanov turned away from the harbor and headed inside the museum. “Come. We’ll talk inside.”

Beyond the front doors, the building’s silver mosaic continued along the floor. A large staircase curved up the wall of the circular main room, with irregularly shaped doorways leading into smaller galleries. The museum showcased only Outsider Art, and displayed an eclectic collection of techniques and styles. There seemed to be no unifying theme other than “unexpected”. Nothing was ever quite what it seemed like it should be.

I followed Aslanov up the staircase, trying to keep her and her bodyguards in sight at all times. The museum was still open, so other guests wandered around, but in the middle of a weekday it wasn’t particularly busy.

A statue hung suspended in the air above the heart of the main staircase. From below, it looked like an odd chandelier. Just a twisted mess of metal and glass that made no sense. Yet, as we climbed the stairs and I was able to view the statue from every angle, I realized it was actually a man.

The main body of the statue was bronze, with large wings of silver metal and colored glass sprouting from his back. The man’s body was contorted in pain while his wings twisted around him.

It was a fallen angel, or maybe the image of Icarus, frozen in time as it plummeted toward earth.

At the top of the building, and through several galleries, Aslanov brought me to an exhibit that was marked “closed”. It seemed to be a new exhibit, still in the process of being installed. The exhibit consisted of an entire room. Illuminated mostly by blacklight, glowing neon sculptures and glow-in-the-dark paint contrasted with the black background. Consisting primarily of purple, pink, and blue, the room looked like an alien forest straight off a sci-fi movie set.

A stray thought entered my mind that this would be a great place to bring Oliver for a second date. I didn’t know much about Outsider Art, other than the fact that it was made by “self-taught” artists and didn’t conform to conventional art standards. None of this meant anything to me, but Oliver would probably appreciate it a lot more than I could. Listening to him explain what made the artwork significant would make the whole experience more interesting.

The daydream lasted only a moment, and I focused back on my task at hand.

A faux-stone structure covered most of the back wall. It looked like a distorted human face, with a gaping mouth forming a cave. Teeth the size of my head lined the outer rim of the cave, and a stone tongue created a sitting table inside the open mouth. Glowing teal water dripped from the face’s eyes and ran down its cheeks into pools along the floor.

While I was sure there was a deeper meaning behind the artistic design, I couldn’t see it. The whole thing just creeped me out.

Sitting at the stone-tongue-table with Aslanov, I ignored the rest of the room. The purple-hued blacklight made her white suit glow, and threw her eyes into shadows so they looked like a pair of dark voids sitting in the middle of her face.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve insisted on meeting here,” she said, flashing me with a cold-as-ice smile as soon as I sat down.

I adjusted the cuffs of my jacket, subtly making sure my watch with the hidden poison needles was exposed. “The museum is an odd choice, but much better than meeting in a cold, dirty warehouse in the middle of the night. I swear, some people have no creativity when it comes to these sorts of things.”

She obviously wasn’t talking about the museum, but I wouldn’t be baited into playing her game. If she wanted to talk about why we were meeting in Baltimore, then she would have to approach the topic herself. I wasn’t going to ask.

Shadowed eyes glared at me for a moment, and I didn’t meet her gaze and busied myself dusting off my suit. Unlike her white suit, my all black outfit disappeared in the blacklight. I was aware of every speck of lint on my clothes, and fought the urge to pluck at the fibers.

Eventually, Aslanov had no choice but to continue the conversation on her own.

“This isn’t the first time our people have met in this city. Fifteen years ago, we tried to set up a trade deal with your ‘ Mafia King. ’ It failed because someone in your organization betrayed all of us and stole the shipment we sent over. They were never found, and a war nearly broke out between us.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but it was close. My bodyguards stationed around the room were on high alert, while I kept a close watch on Aslanov’s hands. If she was going to kill me, her hands were the first things that would have to move.

“Since that is suspiciously close to what happened this time, let me guess... you assume history is repeating itself?”

Her fist clenched on the table and I tensed, ready to react if she attacked me. “After fifteen years, our Pahkan has graciously decided to give you another chance. Relations between our organizations have always been tense, yet you seem determined to make us your enemy despite our efforts.”

I was no stranger to the rocky relationship between the Russian and Italian mafia. It was the reason I existed, after all. A few decades ago, the two sides had been at each other’s throats, until a truce was called and sealed with my parent’s marriage. Since then, peace still remained, but it held on only by the most fragile threads.

“Don’t try to lecture me about my own history. I’m well aware of how fragile the peace between us is. However, I also know that things have changed. The Mafia King , David Russo, is dead, and Alex Mariano has taken over. I was the leader of the Bianchi family fifteen years ago, but I was still young and relatively new to my position so I wasn’t involved with the deal. With so many differences, there’s no way the same person is responsible for your missing shipment now.”

Faster than a striking snake, Alanov’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Her fingers lay right over my watch so I couldn’t activate the trigger for the hidden needles, and her grip was strong enough to bruise bone.

The metallic sound of weapons being drawn and cocked echoed around the room. My bodyguards and Aslanov’s bodyguards were all pointing guns at each other, ready to turn the art installation into a bloodbath at a moment’s notice.

“It may not be the same person, but it’s the same problem,” Aslanov hissed as she slammed my wrist against the table. Barely audible over the cold rage in her voice, was the sound of gears snapping. The mechanism hidden in my watch had broken.

“Your Mafia King has left your house a mess, and his son is incapable of cleaning it up. It’s obvious your organization is too incompetent to handle this. I’m here to take care of this problem once and for all. We will be given full access to Baltimore’s harbor, and you will pay reprimands for what you have stolen, and stay out of our way. Understood.”

She let me go and calmly leaned back in her seat.

Although my heart beat rapidly in my chest, I remained calm and frowned down at my watch as if pouting over a broken toy.

“So many big plans you have. And what about me? Any plans for the Bianchi family?”

I removed my watch and examined it. Yep, definitely broken. I could probably remove the needles, but there was no safe way to deploy them.

She dismissed me almost immediately. “Your family isn’t worth mentioning, but the Pahkan likes you purely because of blood ties. So, you’ll become a marriage trophy, following in your mother’s footsteps as a sacrifice for peace.”

Her words were not a proposition. They were a command. She fully expected everything to happen exactly as she said. There was probably already a hit squad with their sights on Alex, and a plane fueled up at the nearest airport waiting to ship me off to Russia.

Whatever I decided to do in the next thirty seconds would determine everyone’s future.

With my right hand, I blatantly reached for the knife hidden up my sleeve. Aslanov caught my wrist before I’d moved more than an inch.

“Don’t be a fool. I’ll kill you before you even unsheathe that blade.”

I grinned at her. “Not my style. I didn’t get where I am by being a fool. I know I can’t beat you in a head-to-head fight.”

While she’d been focused on my right hand, I’d used my left to slip one of the needles from the broken remains of my watch. I grabbed her hand that was still holding my wrist, and watched her pupils dilate when she felt the prick of the needle against her skin.

“What?” She pulled her hand back and looked down at the small drop of blood staining her white suit. “How did you...”

I held up the needle between two fingers. “You were careless. Breaking my watch only destroyed the deployment mechanism. The poison was still intact.”

“But you...” She gaped at me, eyes zeroing in on the drop of blood rolling down my palm. “You’ve poisoned yourself as well.”

The needles were small, sharp and double sided. Without the watch to deploy them, there was no way to handle them without pricking my own skin as well.

“Yes.” I sighed and shook my head over the drop of blood sitting on my palm. “Annoying, but harmless. Did you really think I would carry around something that could just as easily kill me as my enemies? That poison is an invention by my family. Of course, I’m immune.”

She seethed, but I held up my uninjured hand before she could speak.

“Don’t get too upset. There is an antidote.”

I pulled a small vial out of the inner pocket of my jacket. Only two inches tall, it was filled with a crystal clear liquid.

“Right here. Just the one vial, I’m afraid. The antidote is rather difficult to make.”

She tried to grab it from me, but I held it out to the side, threatening to shatter it on the stone table.

“Ah, ah. None of that. This poison is fast acting. The antidote must be delivered in a few minutes, or it’s lethal. If I break this vial, even I couldn’t get another dose for you in time.”

Her teeth ground so hard together I was surprised they didn’t crack.

“What do you want?”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I stood from the table, keeping both my arms up so everyone could see the vial in my hand. “My bodyguards and I are going to leave. Once we’ve gotten to our car, I’ll leave this vial behind. Then you’re going to report to the Pahkan that we are looking into the theft of your shipment, and will tell you if we find anything. Deal?”

I started walking out of the room before she replied. She would agree. There was no choice. While she was certainly willing to die for her Pahkan and the Russian mafia, she obviously hated me due to my mixed heritage. Her pride wouldn’t let me be the one to kill her.

Eva and Gavriil still had their guns drawn when they met me at the door out of the room.

“Sir,” Eva said through clenched teeth.

“Not now.” My chest felt tight, and the words didn’t come out as strongly as I wanted.

“But, sir,” Gavriil whispered so low even I could barely hear him. “You’re not immune to...”

“I’m aware. Keep walking.”

For once, I wished my family’s invention wasn’t so efficient. By the time I reached the stairs leading to the lower level, my legs were already starting to go numb. I clung to the railing with a white-knuckled grip, forcing my feet to move one in front of the other. Aslanov’s people were watching me. I had to remain calm and maintain the ruse that I was fine. If they knew I was dying as quickly as she was, I would lose my advantage.

Gavriil ran ahead of us to fetch the car and bring it right up to the front door of the museum. Just before I slipped inside the safety of the backseat, I smiled at Aslanov’s people and set the vial of antidote on the curb for them to retrieve.

Then we drove away before they could try to stop us.

“Boss, quick. Take this.” Eva shoved another antidote vial into my hands.

The liquid was bitter on my tongue, but tightness in my chest eased almost immediately.

“That was risky,” she scolded while taking my pulse. “Another minute and it would have been too late. Even the antidote wouldn’t have helped.”

“Well, at least the Russians believed my lie about only having one vial. And we all got out of there unharmed.”

I took too deep a breath and started coughing.

Eva handed me a handkerchief. “You call this unharmed?”

Dabbing at my mouth, I was glad to find no bloodstains on the white cloth. I’d taken the antidote in time. There was no damage to my lungs.

“Alive,” I corrected myself. “At least we’re all alive. And we have a chance to figure out what’s going on before the Russians get really angry.”

The car was filled with silence as we drove down the street away from the harbor. I regarded my bodyguards with a critical eye. They’d been with me for twenty years. Some things didn’t need to be said.

But then again, some things did.

“I know the reason my Russian relatives gave you to me as bodyguards was so you would spy on me for them.”

Both Eva and Gavriil opened their mouths to argue, but I cut them off.

“No, don’t bother. I knew from the day I accepted you that you were a leash as much as a shield. I’d rather have you here, out in the open, than have you spying on me secretly. However, this means you must report to someone in the Russian mafia. I need you to use those contacts and find out everything you can about the incident fifteen years ago. Neither side was able to catch the thief, but maybe by combining information we can figure out who’s responsible.”

The pair were silent for a moment, communicating only with their eyes, before they came to a decision. Based on the expressions on their faces, it seemed to be a decision in my favor.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Gavriil said while still paying attention to the road. “Do you really think the thief from fifteen years ago is the same person who stole the recent shipment?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, concentrating on taking deep even breaths as the antidote continued to do its work. “But Aslanov was right about one thing. Even if it’s not the same person, it’s still the same problem. The two incidents must be related somehow, and that might be the key to catching our thief.”