Page 18 of The Lies Between Lovers

“That’s how much I’ll give you to never speak to that woman again. Seven-point-seven trillion rubles. It averages out to a little more than a hundred million US dollars. That should be enough, yes?”

“Uh—”

“To fund whatever here,” Vaslav supplied when the man blanked.

Feliks’ mouth opened and closed several times. His previously suspicious gaze was rounder than ever as he blank stared the man behind the desk. “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”

“This conversation is getting very boring.”

And dangerous because of it.

For Feliks, of course.

“She intended to quit, did she not?” Vaslav asked. “From her mouth, that’s what she said to me. Is she a liar?”

“I never said that.”

“If she’s already intending to quit, you have no contract to hold her under, and I am offering you a payday to cut her off from The Swan House as an employee, then what do you have to lose, Feliks?”

The man eyed him hard, his teeth chewing on his inner cheek while he considered Vaslav. Eventually, Feliks muttered, “Because it isn’t that simple with you. Nothing is that simple with you, Vaslav. What are you trying to gain? What do you want?”

Vas sat down and leaned back in the chair, chuckling as he opened his clasped hands wide when he replied, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m working on that.”

“What?”

“What?” Vaslav returned.

Feliks blinked, more confused than ever.

“Right,” Vaslav grumbled, standing from the chair and moving out around the desk. He didn’t pause in his stroll, or even look over his shoulder, as he passed Feliks by the mess of the man’s office. “Well, now seems like the best time to head out, yeah? I’ll know when she does—you’ll get your money then.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Feliks called at his back.

Oh, but didn’t it?

*

Tires screeched on the weaving driveway of the old, looming Federal Colonial. Vaslav didn’t even bother to look away from the darkening sky overhead to watch Igor’s SUV take the driveway faster than it typically would. He hated the way the property looked in autumn. Everything lost its color. Every tree shed its leaves. Slowly, what looked alive, seemed to die.

Then, winter came.

It always happened too fast for his liking.

It was only when he heard the door of the SUV slam shut that Vaslav finally dropped his gaze from the sky. Lifting the cigar to his lips for a hard drag, he studied every single one of Igor’s furious steps toward him. The man’s fists remained clenched at his sides, and he tried to keep his expression neutral, but Vaslav wasn’t fooled.

Igor was pissed.

“Where have you been?” his man asked.

Vaslav coughed out an exhale and eyed the cherry red tip of the cigar. “Been too long, I think.”

“For what?”

“This—it’s too old.”

“Doesn’t that make your migraines worse?”

“Terrible,” Vaslav confirmed, taking another long pull that burned even worse. He reveled in it, though.