53. Bronwyn

53

brONWYN

Radimir and I were silent, caught utterly off guard. All I could think about was my bag, packed for the trip. It was right behind me on the floor. Did my legs hide it enough for Gennadiy to miss it? “I was just about to make a sandwich.” I said, shocked at how easily I lied, now.

Gennadiy blinked at me. Then his face cracked into a rare smile. “He’s told me about your sandwiches.”

I glanced at Radimir, amazed. He talks about me?

Gennadiy’s smile faded. “I came to tell you that Spartak’s men shot at two of our guys as they were walking through the old neighborhood. Both of them are going to be okay, but…” He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair. “Spartak’s men weren’t too careful where they sprayed bullets,” he said bitterly. “Some of them went through the wall of a house. A four-year-old was killed.”

I looked across at Radimir and saw him grip the edge of the kitchen island, his knuckles white. He didn’t rage, didn’t shout. I knew all of the anger was being directed inward, that he’d blame himself for this. It isn’t your fault!

“I’ll make sure the family is taken care of,” said Gennadiy. “Whatever they need.”

Radimir nodded stiffly. Then he glanced across at me and I could see the pain and desperation in his eyes. We had to stop this war. Now.

“I’ll leave you to your sandwich making,” Gennadiy told us. I saw him glance between us and for just a second, I thought I saw something like longing in his eyes. Then he turned away and marched towards the door. “There’s turkey, ham and cheese in the refrigerator, bread in the bread bin,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m not sure where the chef keeps the mustard but it’s in here somewhere.”

Radimir suddenly ran after Gennadiy, spun him around and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Thank you for everything you do, brother,” he told Gennadiy. “I always know our family is in safe hands.”

He’s saying goodbye, I realized, and my chest went tight. He thinks he might never see him again.

Gennadiy seemed surprised, but then he returned the hug just as fiercely. He stepped back, his eyes full of emotion, then nodded to Radimir and headed off down the hallway.

Radimir and I let out a long sigh of relief, but it was tempered: Gennadiy had reminded us just how bad things were, out there. And we were going out there without backup.

“We can’t take my car to the airport,” Radimir told me. “Spartak will have people watching for it.”

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I thought of that.”

We crept out of the mansion through the scullery. Gennadiy had men patrolling the grounds but they were looking outward, not inward, and we stuck to the shadows and managed to make it to the perimeter wall. Radimir lifted me up and I clambered over it, none too gracefully, and dropped down on the other side. Radimir dropped down next to me. “Now what?” he asked.

I pointed at Jen’s ancient station wagon, parked across the street. Even from here, we could see how it drooped despondently on its wheels.

Radimir stared at the butterfly stickers and peeling paintwork. “ That?!”

“No one’s going to think you’re a Bratva boss,” I pointed out, and we hurried across the street. My legs were starting to throb already. I’d thought about bringing my crutches, but they’d make me stand out a mile, plus they aren’t made for sneaking. For as long as this crazy plan took, I’d just have to manage.

Jen had left the car keys under the wheel arch—it wasn’t like we had to worry about anyone trying to steal it. We climbed in and I got the engine started on the third try.

Radimir squeezed my hand. “Alright. Let’s go and find Konstantin.”

A little over an hour later, we were cruising at 30,000 feet, heading east towards New York. With the setting sun behind us, the clouds glowed red and amber and everyone was snapping pictures through the windows. But I barely glanced up: I was on my phone, reading every scrap of information I could find on Konstantin, determined to know everything I could about him. Two things were obvious: firstly, the man was freakin’ gorgeous. He had the face of a king, like he should be sculpted in bronze in some art gallery somewhere, with elegant cheekbones and a strong jaw, and eyes that were just barely blue, as if he’d allowed the color to creep in. My heart belonged to Radimir but if I’d been anyone else…

Secondly, he wasn’t shy. He was all over the press and social media, shaking hands with politicians, opening children’s hospitals and sipping champagne at society parties. A pretty brunette was always by his side, his arm around her waist as if they were inseparable. “His girlfriend?” I whispered to Radimir.

Radimir nodded and then, despite all the stress, the corners of his mouth tweaked into a half smile. He leaned closer, brushed my hair back from my ear and whispered. “I heard a story. A good one. I don’t know if it’s true.”

I did my best pleading face. It worked maybe too well because his gray eyes flared and melted, and he grabbed my hand as if he was about to march me off to the bathroom. Then he managed to get himself under control and he whispered, “I heard Konstantin had a girlfriend. A woman as evil as he was. When the two were apart for a few months, the FBI caught her and gave one of their female agents plastic surgery to make her look just like the girlfriend. The agent learned to walk like her, talk like her, everything. Then they sent this agent back to Konstantin...and he believed she was his girlfriend and welcomed her in. Except instead of spying on him like she was supposed to…”—he paused for effect—“she fell in love with him. And he fell in love with her.”

I sat there staring. “Is that true?”

Radimir shrugged. “It’s Konstantin. Who knows what’s true?”

My mind was spinning. “Do you think you’d know if I was an imposter?”

Radimir leaned close again. “Bronwyn,” he whispered, his rough-smooth accent caressing my brain, “I know the feel of every…single… inch of you.” His lips almost brushed my ear. “Inside and out.” I flushed down to my roots. “And besides, no imposter would hum like you do, when you make your sandwiches.”

I stared at him. “I don’t hum!”

“Yes, you do. When you’re buttering the bread. Always the same tune.” He smiled. “I call it your sandwich song.”

All those weeks in the penthouse, he was watching, listening...

I threw myself at him and kissed him hard, and he wrapped me up in his arms and kissed me back even harder. For a moment, I forgot everything else.

But then the tannoy bonged and we were told we were starting our descent into New York. We reluctantly unwound and exchanged worried looks. This is it. Either my crazy plan would work...or the whole Aristov empire was about to fall.

A few hours later, Radimir pulled our rental car over to the curb and turned off the engine. “That’s it,” he told me, nodding at a house across the street. “Konstantin’s in there.”

We were on a quiet residential street full of beautiful old townhouses that probably cost ten million each. Something was going on at the house Radimir had pointed at: two couples were climbing the stairs and, as I watched, a limo dropped off another three people. “A party?”

Radimir looked strangely furtive. “Not...exactly.”

I frowned, confused.

He sighed. “It’s a sex club.”

“ What?!”

“A very exclusive sex club, for the rich.”

I stared at him. Now I knew why he’d told me to buy lingerie. Why he’d told me to change into it, when we checked into our hotel. I was wearing it right now, under a swishy, satiny black cocktail dress I’d got from Rachel. Oh God, am I going to have to strip off? “You couldn’t have mentioned this before?!” I squeaked.

“I didn’t want to make you nervous.”

I stared at him. Half of me was furious, the other half was too busy being terrified.

“I’m sorry, Krasavitsa ,” he said softly. “But it’s the only place he’s not surrounded by bodyguards.”

I sat there staring at the house. My leg had started jiggling with nerves. It wasn’t just that I’d have to take my clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers, it was not knowing what to expect. I’d never even thought about going to a sex club. Sex in the hot tub, sort-of-kind-of-maybe in public, was daring enough for me. I felt like the high school geek, accidentally invited to the cool kids’ party full of drugs and booze. “Fuck,” I muttered.

I took three quick breaths...and then I got out of the car.

Radimir scrambled out after me. “What are you doing?”

“ Going.” I adjusted my dress. “This is our only chance and if I don’t go now, I’m going to chicken out.” I held out my hand.

He looked stunned and then proud and then just utterly besotted. He grabbed my hand, squeezed it tight and we walked across the street towards the house.

What the hell am I doing, I asked myself. Then the doorman nodded to us, pulled open the door…

And we went inside.