Page 225 of Lethal Obsession

“Noted.” Roman is grinning.

I swear to God he’s enjoying this.

“You were about to give me some names.” He pushes a tablet across the table to Thorne. “And get the spelling right,” he says, checking his watch. “Handing an envelope of cash to a Hernández instead of a Fernández is the kind of mistake that can fuck a day right up.”

Renata snorts vodka out of her nose. “Your man here missed his calling,” she says, shaking her head. “He should definitely consider comedy.”

“But look at the sneer on Thorne’s face.” I zoom in on it. “The fucker is so sure Roman’s a brainless idiot that he’s lost whatever self-preservation instincts he might have possessed.”

“I’ve got all the names on file, along with profiles. Let me just log in and give you access.” Thorne types rapidly on the tablet, then slides it back to Roman, who casts a querying look at the camera.

“I’ve got the file.” Pavel’s voice crackles through the comms. “And . . . it’s downloaded.”

I glance at Renata. “Got everything you need?”

She nods.

“Good. Then before we let the dogs loose, I’m going to have a little chat with Thorne.” I stand up and put a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to join me?”

Renata’s face pales.

“I can do this alone,” I say quietly, “if you’d prefer.”

“No.” She draws a deep breath and stands up. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

I switch the microphone to the suite with the crime bosses and bureaucrats. “Jorge Cardeñas is on his way,” I say into it. “Before he joins us, Renata and I are going to take five minutes with our friend upstairs. I won’t keep you waiting for long.”

Dimitry presses the button on his end. “Better make it quick,” he says grimly, nodding at Rico’s rigid figure.

Knut and Benson, both pale faced and sweating, give me a weak thumbs-up. It takes one look at the murderous fury on Rico Lucchese’s face to understand the cause of their discomfort.

Remember what you’re seeing, boys, I think grimly. And if you want to survive the swamp—don’t ever forget how dangerous it really is.

Opening the door, I go out onto the deck and head for the stairs, Renata right behind me.

“If we’re done here,” Thorne is saying from the upper deck, “I’d like to head ashore. My son Tyler is coming to town, and we’re meeting for breakfast in the morning.”

“Oh, we’re definitely done here,” Roman says lightly. “But the only thing you’ll be meeting tomorrow morning is your maker.” His eyes meet mine over Thorne’s head as I step out onto the upper deck.

Thorne’s head swivels around, horror dawning in his eyes.

“Smile, friend,” I say coldly. “You just got caught on bratva cam.”

45

Alexei

“Nice job,” I say to Roman as I cross the deck, not looking at Thorne at all.

“You know what they say—if you enjoy the job, it doesn’t feel like work at all.” He gives Thorne a look of blistering contempt. “In this case, the pleasure was all mine.”

He stands up. “I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he says, his eyes meeting Renata’s. “I hope tonight gives you closure, as the therapists say.”

“I’m a bit like you.” Renata smiles coldly. “Sometimes I prefer my closure at gunpoint.”

Roman grins. “I like this one.” He claps me on the shoulder. “You two have fun. I need a drink. In decent company,” he adds, glaring at Thorne. “Which, just in case nobody tells you before you die tonight, you definitely aren’t, asshole.”

I take a seat on the sofa opposite Thorne, and Renata sits beside me. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thorne,” I say softly, “but we both know that would be a lie. And unlike you, I have moral objections to telling lies.”