Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

LAINEY

A car was waiting for us when we came down. The driver—Kellan Traschel—was a familiar face. The Vandal slipped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for us. He was dressed in a black suit and had the look of a professional chauffeur.

"Miss," he murmured in polite greeting, ignoring Milo's snort of amusement as the others waited for me to get in first.

"Thank you." The back of the vehicle was quite spacious. I didn't take any of the edge seats. Instead I chose the middle seat facing forward. Ezra climbed in next and he dropped into the seat right behind the driver. Adam took the seat on my right with Bodhi going across from him and then Milo next to me on the left.

"You have the address?" Milo asked after Kellan climbed into the driver's seat.

"Yep. Already scouted the area and Jas is there keeping watch with Rome."

"Efficient," I said even as Milo threaded his fingers with mine.

"Not taking any chances," he said by way of explanation, but I waved it off. I didn't need them to tell me about mitigating risks. We were in an unfamiliar city, meeting with unfamiliar people with a measure of influence.

We needed allies here. If we couldn't find them and we had to do this on our own… Well, there were people we could hire to bring in if necessary.

So, no chances needed to be taken beyond what we were already doing. The drive from our apartment to the home of the evening's host, Dimitri Solohub, took just a little under thirty minutes. I wasn't sure how much of that was the roundabout route that Kellan took or the fact it was further out.

I could let my mind wander while we were in the vehicle. I needed to focus when we were inside. The house turned out to be a luxury villa in the Troja district. It occupied a hill with a pair of other villas flanking it. Close, but not immediately on top of it.

"All three homes are under the control of the Mikhailovskaya as far as we can tell. Doc called his friends. Alphabet did some looking and they reached out to some people they know in the region. Most won't have anything to do with the Mikhailovskaya because it's not good business."

"Good to know," Bodhi said. "Any warnings?"

"Just the standard," Kellan replied as he pulled up the drive and then reached out to choose a button on the call box. No challenge was offered, just a buzz and an accented voice saying something in Russian.

"He said come up," Ezra translated. No one said anything more until Kellan's window was closed and we were moving once again. "It took us three days to get someone to even consider an introduction, now we're invited to dinner."

He rubbed at his jaw. The playful flirt from earlier was absent and replaced by a far more troubled man.

"And we're here…" I let that trail off, waiting him out. Despite the assurances earlier that they wished I would stay behind where it was "safe," we were all here.

Ezra and Adam would have fought a lot harder if they suspected a trap.

"We're here," Ezra agreed. "I just don't know what we might be walking into." Then he glanced at Bodhi. "I don't think it's a physical trap, but it feels more like they got an idea of who we were and that opened the door."

"Which could be a problem all by itself," I murmured. Adam settled his hand on my thigh.

"Whatever it is," he said. "We'll deal with it."

Then we pulled up in front of the house. Before he got out, Kellan turned his head so he could glance back at us. "Hit the panic button if we need to crash in and get you out. Jasper and Rome are watching, I won't be far. Hopefully they'll just let me stay. If they won't—not a problem."

"We got this," Milo said and he patted the pocket of his jacket. "Let's not keep our hosts waiting."

Despite the familiarity of formal attire and a luxurious location for our dinner "party" or whatever they called it here, unease settled in my bones. I liked when events were a little more predictable.

Especially when we weren't sure if we were dealing with potential friends or new enemies. Allies didn't have to be friendly, but they did need to be trustworthy.

The cooler air sent shivers rippling over my skin. I had a wrap but it wasn't as warm against the breezes here as it had been next to the apartment building. I took a good look around, letting the scenery appear to capture my interest as I scanned who was here with us.

So far, I hadn't seen any guards standing out. Didn't mean they weren't here. If anything, they were more than likely watching us from several locations. Jasper and Rome were out there too, but I hadn't expected to see them and I didn't.

Security you could see were there to intimidate. Security you couldn't? Well, they were there to do a job and it increased the likelihood that they would get you first. Ezra offered me his arm and I threaded mine through his.

I could almost read the regret in Kellan's stoic expression as the guys fell in around us. He couldn't go inside. Sympathy welled up in me. I would not want to be the one left behind.

With Ezra leading the way, we headed for the front of the villa. It was elegant and had a touch of French countryside chic to it. The driveway did not let us out immediately in front of the villa's doors.

Instead, we had to follow a cobbled walkway to stone steps and then up a flight to a patio balcony where the double-wide doors with their etched glass awaited.

Secure, but with the appearance of openness. I rather like the effect. Ezra moved slowly up the steps as I climbed with him. The doors opened just as we reached them to reveal a silver-haired man in a tailcoat, bow tie, and gloves.

Maybe we should have brought calling cards. The man swept us with a look, before he focused on Ezra and myself.

"Mr. Graham, Miss Benedict, please, you're expected."

We were expected. The tension in Ezra's arm seemed to stiffen the muscle under my fingers. Once inside, the butler offered to take Ezra's coat and my wrap.

A part of me wanted to resist, but then we could leave without the coats. The uneasiness that settled in while we were in the car surged through me once more.

"Mr. Cavendish," the butler said as he took Bodhi's jacket. "Mr. Reed." His accent was distinctly British, not Czech. He would be right at home in Downton Abbey. "Mr. Hardigan."

Milo eyed him but let him have his coat. The butler passed off the jackets to a pair of footmen.

"Please, if you'll follow me."

He turned on his heel and led us deeper into the ornate home. The wood grains in the floor gleamed, freshly polished. Even the floors that looked like marble were wood. They were exquisite.

The first sitting room was clearly where guests might wait to be introduced. We bypassed it entirely as the butler led us to a much larger room beyond with a fireplace, bookshelves, sofas, and billiards tables.

Two of them.

Unexpected but not unwelcome.

"If you don't mind waiting in here, I will get you drinks and Mr. Solohub will be with you directly, along with his guest. He had to take a call and wanted to express his deepest regrets for having to make you wait."

"That'll be fine…" I said, then raised my brows.

"Andrews, miss," the butler introduced himself. "Would you care for a glass of wine?"

No, but probably a good idea to make a show of it. "Yes, please. Wine would be lovely."

"Whiskey," Adam said easily.

"Water," Bodhi answered.

"Same," Ezra followed suit.

"Make that three," Milo added.

I had to hide a smile as the butler excused himself.

Ezra glanced at the guys. "You can drink, you know."

"They are," Milo said. "I don't want anything right now."

Which was fair. I didn't really want any alcohol either. In fact, I'd rather just get the meeting over and done with. The social niceties demanded a lot.

"Relax," Adam ordered Ezra, because that always went well, before he began to move around the room. I understood the need to inspect the space. What clues could we glean from the architecture, the art, and the decorations.

I didn't follow him, but I did study the layout of the room, the Georgian furniture scattered amongst the Queen Anne, and far more modern pieces. It was—eclectic. Likely put together more for comfort than the aesthetic.

Andrews didn't keep us waiting long. He returned with the drinks and there was a second glass of wine on his tray.

Before I could ask about the wine, the sound of heels striking in a two-beat rhythm echoed from down the hall. Each step, two-beats, growing gradually louder, the closer they came. Bodhi moved to stand right next to me.

Wine in hand, I composed myself. Perhaps it was our host's wife or…

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ezra muttered under his breath.

Shock stapled itself to me.

"Mrs. Waldemar," Andrews said as Margareta Waldemar sauntered—and yes, she was absolutely sauntering—into the room in her gold filigree dress, looking like she'd just stepped out of the opera. "May I present our guests for the evening…"

Andrews introduced us all by name, not that she needed such formality. Still, we all played our parts, even Margareta. Then Andrews gave her the wine.

"Thank you, Andrews," she told him in her cultured voice, the barest hint of an accent present. "Do go take care of whatever it is, Mr. Solohub requires. I'll be just fine with our guests."

"Ma'am." Andrews all but clicked his heels together, nodded his head, and then strode out again.

"Mrs. Waldemar," Adam said in a chilly tone. "What an unexpected surprise."

"Well, if you'd expected me, dear boy," she told him with a smile. "It wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"No," Milo said, his tone damn near as guarded as Adam's. Ezra didn't say anything but the stiffness in his posture and his arm betrayed every inch of his unhappiness with this whole situation.

The only one not responding at all was Bodhi. He merely stared at her. She glanced at each of us before finally bringing her cool gaze to rest on me. The amused smile on her lips flickered, then dimmed before she sighed.

"I suppose it would have been a great deal to just assume you would be pleased with my presence."

"I am neither pleased nor displeased." Not every occasion called for blunt honesty. This one did. "I am, however, in possession of a great many questions."

"Then come and sit with me, darling girl, and we'll talk. Also that dress is absolutely beautiful on you."

"Thank you." I ignored the hand she held out to me. "I'm also fine with standing. I haven't decided whether I'm staying for the rest of this or not."

Margareta sighed for real and it lacked any of the teasing hints of affect. There was real regret in her eyes. It was the first genuine sign of regret I could recall tracking from her. Normally, she played it much closer to the vest, not betraying any emotion.

So why would she have…

"Oh."

It hit me and our gazes locked all at once.

Her smile grew a little sadder. "You really are gifted."

Brushing aside the praise, I studied her. "Who knows?"

I could almost feel the question Ezra wasn't asking. Adam's fierce frown came into view as he and Milo joined the four of us and we stood in a semi-circle in front of Mrs. Waldemar.

"Not as many as you might think. I learned a long time ago that ingrained misogyny and chivalry aren't too far apart."

"Son of a bitch," Adam muttered. I didn't glance at him. He had to have guessed, just like I did.

"It's not just being the power behind the throne, you are the throne. Everyone else is the window dressing."

Margareta raised her wine glass. "People see what they want to see. In a bratva, they want powerful men with dark scowls and mysterious motives. As for me? I'm merely a hostess. A wealthy widow. A philanthropist."

I tossed back the glass of wine like it was the whiskey that Adam had ordered.

"If you were curious, yes, the Mikhailskaya was once my husband's—well, part of it was. I've grown it considerably since he died. The men who report to me are good, honorable, and they do good work."

"But you are still the pakhan," I said, testing the term.

"Or I can just be Margareta. You and I could be friends, Lainey."

"Why?" Bodhi asked, the question landing into the silence with a crack like a gunshot.

"For a great many reasons, Mr. Cavendish, not all of which you've earned the right to know or even ask me. Rather than play this game of two steps forward and one step back, let's address directly the reason you were invited here tonight."

My heart fisted in my chest.

"Andrea?"