41. Andrey

41

ANDREY

"I've got good news and bad news."

Shura is on his feet and inspecting Katya before she can even get close to our table. "If that mudak has laid another hand on you?—"

Kat silences him with a kiss on the lips. Shura is stiff as she pulls away, but there's a huge grin spread across her face. "Hello to you, too."

I've chosen to have this meeting at a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant I use periodically to launder money. It's always dead in the middle of the day, and right now is no exception. We've got the whole place—all four tables—to ourselves.

"Kat…" Shura warns, fisting her dress and hauling her close.

I understand his overprotectiveness, but we don't have time for it. I gesture for Kat to sit down. "How long do you have?"

"An hour before I need to get back to work. Is that bread? I'm starving!"

I push the basket in the middle of the table towards her, and she tears into a baguette with a dreamy groan. Shura is looking at her the way she's looking at the bread.

"How are things going?"

"Good," she assures me between bites. "I've established some trust. He's started opening up to me."

"How have you established trust?" Shura scowls.

"With a little over-the-pants massage, duh." She's barely even finished the sentence and Shura is turning a violent shade of purple. Kat pats his thigh. "Oh, for God's sake, Shura, I'm kidding."

"Go easy on him, Kat," I warn.

He lets her tow him back into his seat, but he looks as comfortable as if he was sitting on spikes. "You didn't answer my question. How did you establish trust?"

"You really think I would let that asshole touch me?" she spits. "I thought you had more faith in me than that."

Without saying a word, Shura grabs her bruised wrist and holds it up to the light like that's all the proof he needed.

She shakes him off and sighs. "His pride demanded that he punish me for the whole wedding fiasco. He got over it fast."

"Because he wanted to fuck you?"

Katya's confident smile withers and she looks down at her lap. "I had to make him believe I wanted to sleep with him—but I promise you, nothing happened." She risks a peek up at Shura. "You believe me, don't you?"

Shura doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Part of me wants to tell him to grow the fuck up. This is business.

But if Natalia and I were having this conversation, I'm not sure I'd be doing much better.

Kat touches his cheek and turns him to face her. "I got him so drunk that he couldn't tell me apart from Luna."

"Luna?"

A tiny, triumphant smile breaks apart her frown lines. "She's an escort who works at La Belle. About my size, conveniently enough. She comes in once I've got Viktor drunk and in bed, has her way with him, and I get all the credit. We call it the ‘master-bait and switch.' Honestly, I'm as proud of the pun as I am of the trick itself."

I bark out a laugh, and Shura glares at me before he grabs Katya's hand. "He really buys that?"

"Like I said, he's drunk off his ass every time." She tucks her hand in his lap. "We should be celebrating. The plan is working. We're getting closer to?—"

"I still don't like that the fucker thinks he's having sex with you," Shura snarls.

" You don't like it? Think about me. I have to pretend to want to sleep with him." She leans in close, her lips pressed to my second's ear. "He doesn't make it as easy as you do."

Shura might be blushing. I'm not sure because I've never seen it before, but his hand slides into Katya's lap under the table and he settles back without another complaint.

She kisses his cheek. "I'm getting real information out of him. Shit we can use ! This is good news."

Shura looks like he wants to argue, but time isn't a luxury we can afford. "What do you have for me?" I ask.

"Ah, that's the less-good news." Her gaze flickers around the restaurant, clearly wary of being overheard. "Viktor's put a hit out on Mila."

"On his own wife? The fucking coward." Shura turns to me. "Ivan's gonna blow his lid when he finds out."

Speak of the devil…

Ivan's Bentley pulls along the curb just outside the restaurant. There's no way I can keep this kind of information from the man for long. But that doesn't mean I can't try.

"Leave Ivan to me. Katya, anything else?"

She bites her lip. "Mila's not the only one with a target on her back. Slavik has put a hit out, too. On… your mother."

My mouth drops. Even I never thought my father would stoop that low. "He wants to kill his mentally unstable wife?"

"He wants to hurt you, Andrey," Katya explains gently. "He also wants to undermine your power. By taking out the people you protect, he thinks he can expose you as a weak leader."

"Viktor's apple certainly didn't fall far from that fucking tree." To think the same blood runs in my veins is absolutely repulsive.

Katya checks the time on her watch. "I really gotta get back to work." She turns to Shura and lowers her voice a little. "I'll be thinking of you tonight."

His eyes remain cold as ice, but he kisses her back when she leans in. "Be safe," he commands. "If he tries anything with you?—"

"I've been fighting off handsy men my whole life. I can handle Viktor."

With a wave, Katya ducks out just as Ivan walks into the restaurant. He takes her place at the table.

"Gentleman," he says morosely. "I hope you have good news for me."

I don't envy the miserable, balding bastard. He bargained on security and power when he insisted Viktor marry his daughter. Instead, he received an abusive drunk who, if he has his way, will get them all killed.

"I'm afraid good news is in short supply these days, Ivan."

He nods grimly. "How is my daughter?"

"Safe." We're all running off lukewarm promises as of late, but it's the best I can offer for the time being.

Ivan seems to know that. "Then we can move onto business. I assume I was summoned for a reason?"

"You're one of the best smugglers I know, Ivan." I mean it. He wouldn't be here if I didn't. "But this job requires slightly more finesse than usual."

"Why is that?"

"Because what I want smuggled is not drugs." He arches a curious brow, a silent invitation to go on. "We discussed this. Route Seven. One woman. I need it done quickly. Tomorrow at the latest."

Shura spins to me, mouth hanging open. "We haven't lost the war yet, Andrey. We have time."

"Time is the one thing we don't have, my friend," I say wearily. "My pride is what killed Maria. Say what you want about me, but I learn from my mistakes."