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She gives a shy smile. “I’ll never get used to you. You’re too big.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll always make sure you’re as comfortable as possible, within reason. Oh, and tsvetok?”
She looks back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Don’t you dare wash me away. I want to walk around the city with my elegant wife, knowing her cock-hungry pussy is full of my come.”
She laughs. “Why is that hot? What have you done to me?
I raise an eyebrow. “Moya zhena, believe me; I’ve barely gotten started.”
I dress and grab my phone. I forgot it was on silent, and now there are five missed calls from Timur. The fucker will keep ringing me, so I find his number and press the green button.
After listening to nothing but Lilyana’s soft moans for the last half-hour, Timur’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard.
“I got a few people to talk to me,” he says. “With the other evidence I have, there’s no doubt about it. The Morettis are behind it all and have other threats in the pipeline, but it’s unclear how much Giovanni Moretti knows about it. It may all be Aldo, but it won’t matter. Can Vlad call the meeting? The mafia commission should demand Giovanni return and answer the charges.”
Lilyana emerges from the bedroom, wearing bootcut jeans and a white tank top, sweeping her hand through her blonde hair. Her face captivates me; it’s too lively to be perfect, but that’s what makes her so radiantly beautiful.
I find myself wishing I was a better guy. I want to prevent the filth of this life from sticking to her.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to Vlad,” I say into the phone. “He’s relieved that we’ve got enough to go on. I have to ask: are you sure? If we get our komissiya in the room with those mafia assholes, it’ll be heated, and we gotta be certain of what we’re bringing to the table.”
Timur laughs. “Don’t worry about it, tovarishch. I didn’t spend all that time doing dodgy shit in security industries and not learn how to make someone look—” he pauses, “—make someone’s guilt all too apparent.”
I’m not paying attention. This will all be over soon; until then, I’m staying at my wife’s side.
“So look, I got plans today.” I smile as she drifts into the music room, gentle ripples of melody floating to my ears. “So Vlad will organize the conference, and you’ll pull everything together, ready to present.”
Timur’s tone is sharp. “I got a lot to check through here. CCTV stills to put in date and time order, testimonies to redact—”
“So do it,” I snap. “I asked you to deal with this, and so did Vlad. What do you think your boss, Sissi Barone, will think if you don’t see it through? He wants a seat at our table? This is how he wins, and that means you too, right?”
“Right.” There’s an awkward beat before he continues. “Fine. I’ll call you later when it’s all ready to go. You’ll inform me when the meeting is arranged?”
“Sure. I’ll be out at Piccolo Cueco tonight for a meal with my wife, but after that, we can look it over.”
“Okay. That’s great.”
Jesus, man. Get off the fucking phone and do your job. All he has to do is catalog the proof of Moretti’s bullshit, and they will have to back off and pay us in money or blood, depending on how angry Giovanni is with Aldo. I won’t hold his damn hand.
“Pozzhe, priyatel’,” I say. “Until later.”
Something about the whole exchange leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Timur has been pissing me off in small increments since he showed up here. He was rude about Lilyana and killed Jake Northwood without my permission.
The guy is my friend, but he’s getting on my nerves.
Lilyana reappears, and my troubled thoughts blow away like dandelion seeds. All it takes is her smile to put me back on track.
“So where are we going?” she asks, picking up her purse. “You’re not even gonna give me a clue?”
I shake my head. “I’m not one hundred percent certain you won’t think I’m an asshole, so no. Let’s just wait and see, shall we?”
35
Lilyana
I’ve never been to this part of the city before. Arman pulls up on East 92nd St, and I squeal when I see the sign.
