AllFreeNovel
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Behind the pain, beneath the many layers of fear and anxiety, was the real Lilyana; the child she was before her bastard of a father tore her down. The accident, her brain injury, the difficulties she had afterward—none of that would have held her back if it weren’t for Sergey Kislev and his toxic need to see his children suffer as much as he did.
“So, the rules are as follows.” I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. “You will go out and spend my money. Spas, clothes, shoes, beauty stuff, jewelry, anything.” I arch a brow. “But there’s a catch.”
“Which is?”
“Spend more on your passions, Lili.” Her eyes widen, and I melt inside. “If you spend millions on VIP concert tickets or new instruments or whatever the fuck you need. Hand cream? Anyway, I’m saying it’s fine.”
She nods in mock seriousness. “I can deal, so far. What else?”
“No male friends that I haven’t vetted, tsvetok. It’s not that I don’t trust you; there are some real fuckers out there. After this Moretti fiasco is resolved, their famiglia’s empire will be in tatters, which ought to be enough to deter anyone who might try and mess with you, but you can never be sure.”
“Fair enough.” Lilyana pauses as our entrees are placed before us. “After Seb, I’m not keen anyway. Anything else?”
I’m looking past her in disbelief. Timur is outside, talking to the doorman and pointing at me, and as I watch, he enters the restaurant and makes his way toward us.
Lilyana turns around. “Oh, great. You invited him to dinner? Why?”
“I didn’t fucking invite him, no—”
Timur drags a chair and sits beside Lilyana, clicking his fingers. “Another glass over here!” he cries, wrapping his arm around my wife’s shoulders. “Hi, Lili.”
She shrinks away as he kisses her cheek, and I bang my fist on the table, rattling the glassware. “Get off her now. Can’t you see she’s uncomfortable?”
“Ah, sorry, sorry!” Timur wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s been a Hell of a day, but I’ve done a great job, an excellent job, but it’s my forte, you get that? I’m good with data, so I was such a fantastic fraudster. Lili, did I ever tell you about the Deutsche Bank cyber robbery I pulled? It was so funny. They never even caught me for that—
“Timur, shut the fuck up!” I snap. “What have you been doing?”
He lowers his voice. “Just some coke. What?” He sits back and fixes me with an indignant glare. “Sissi got some delivered. I went to see him earlier, and he got me all set.” He giggles. “I’ll admit it. It’s been snowing all evening for me in NYC!”
Lilyana’s disgust at this jibbering idiot’s presence is palpable, and I’m plenty pissed at him too. He’s drastically overestimated my interest in his friendship if he thinks he can crash my wife’s special evening and not get my back up.
“I don’t want your speedy mouth talking shit at my table, you presumptuous fuck.” Timur’s grin drips off his face, and I lean forward. “The meeting is set for nine p.m. tomorrow at The Russian Tea Rooms. You bring the evidence, I’ll pay you, give Sissi his cut, and it’ll all be over. You and your boss can take your fat wallets back to Chicago and call it what it is: a good deal.” I sit back. “Until then, I’m busy.”
Timur is silent as a server brings an empty wine glass. I don’t offer him any, and he doesn’t dare help himself. Lilyana pours him some water instead, and he knocks it back.
“I apologize.” Timur shuffles in his seat. “I wanted to cut loose and went too far. I was passing and thought you wouldn’t mind…yeah. I misjudged.” He sighs deeply. “Don’t you just wish you could bypass all this bullshit, fuck up your enemies, and deal with it later?”
I push my plate away and pick up my glass. “Innocent people get hurt that way, Timur. My father, for one.”
“Really?” Timur holds my gaze. “You told me he died, but not how.”
“After the good job you’ve done with the Morettis, I was gonna ask you to help me unravel what truly happened, but I’m having second thoughts.”
“Nah, come on. I’m sorry.” Timur steeples his fingers below his chin. “I got skills you can use.”
He’s right; he does.
“Remember when I said I joined the Kislev bratva when I was fifteen? It was because my father died in a failed assassination attempt on Sergey Kislev. He was Sergey’s driver and was meant to be going to collect him when the car bomb went off. The Kislev bratva tore the city apart trying to find the guy who did it, but they never figured it out, which is why I thought you and I could—”
“What was his name?” Timur says, interrupting. “Your father.”
“Yaros.” I frown. “Why? Are you gonna make a start now? I think you better sober up and get some rest.”
“And your mom?” Timur asks. “Where’s she?”
“I don’t fucking know, Timur! She went missing when I was a baby. I told you this years ago.” I stand, towering over him. “Go on, fuck off. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, and you’d better have your head on straight by then.”
Lilyana takes a large sip of wine, and I keep my eyes on her. If I look at Timur, I might not be able to resist punching him.
