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Despite the gravity of the situation, I laugh. Being around the old man again makes me remember why I liked him so much to begin with.
“Well, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you’re so fucking old you probably don’t even need your nuts anymore,” I tell him. “I have a woman back at the hotel who’s grown rather fond of mine. So, let’s try to keep them in one piece, yeah?”
He shrugs and eyeballs the club. “You sure this is even the right place?”
“Yes. I have good intel that he comes here every Wednesday like clockwork.”
“Well, even a good clock can be wrong.” Maxim shrugs.
We wait in silence, scoping out the building. It’s more upscale than Delirium, but I don’t know the layout. I don’t know anything about what awaits us inside, or what’s going to happen when Gleb actually shows up. He has a reputation for being ruthless, but I suspect at least half of that is just Vory folklore, and the rest is probably the truth.
It takes two full hours before I finally catch a glimpse of him. A black SUV pulls up to the curb, idling while one of his soldiers comes around to the back and opens the door for him. When the old man steps out, he glances down both sides of the street even though his soldiers have already checked twice. A force of habit, I suppose. When you’re the man at the top of the food chain, there is no shortage of men who’d like to take your place.
Maxim and I don’t even speak as we approach, and we don’t manage to get within ten feet of him before one of his soldiers reaches for his weapon.
“Who the fuck are you?” Gleb turns to me, eyes dark and hard.
I have a feeling we’re both about to get shot the fuck up, but before he gives the order, his eyes move to Maxim, and recognition sparks.
“Hold up,” he tells his men. “I know this one. Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
“Something like that.” A smile curves Maxim’s lips. “But I’ve got a few more lives left in me yet.”
“Maxim,” Gleb says his name. “You worked for Vasily back in the day, right?”
“The one and only.” Maxim nods.
“What business do you two have here?” Gleb asks, his eyes darting to me. “And who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Vasily’s nephew,” I answer carefully, hoping that Vasily hasn’t spoken with him yet. “Lev.”
“We were hoping to have a private audience with you,” Maxim says. “Just a few minutes of your time.”
One of his soldiers steps forward, glaring in our direction. “Boss, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”
Gleb holds up his hand, silencing him immediately. “What’s this about?”
There are a lot of ways I could spin this, but all I can think about is what Alexei said, and I know he’s right.
“It’s about Ciara March.”
For a split second, the hardness in Gleb’s eyes vanishes, washing away beneath a tidal wave of pain as he repeats her name. “Ciara?”
I nod. Maxim shifts beside me. We wait in tense silence, uncertain how he’s going to react. Even after all these years, it’s obvious she still affects him. The mere mention of her name opened a raw wound, and for all I know, it could be something he wants to forget.
“Pat them down and take them inside.” Gleb gestures to his men. “Make it quick.”
He leaves us on the sidewalk while his men disarm us and take our phones while they’re at it too. Once they are satisfied that we aren’t wearing a wire, they lead us inside, through the club, and down to the basement.
Maxim glances at me in question, and I just shrug. Either we’re walking to our deaths right now, or this is where Gleb conducts his business.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, Gleb is waiting at a bar that appears to be set up for his own private use. He gestures for us to sit down beside him, and then looks at his men.
“Put in some headphones. We’re going to have a conversation.”
The soldiers do as he requests. Standing like sentinels at the entrance to the stairs, they watch us carefully as Gleb pours three glasses of vodka.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard her name.” He slides a glass in my direction, following up with one for Maxim. “How did you know her?”
Maxim looks at me, and I nod at him to go ahead.
“Ciara used to come into the club,” he tells Gleb. “In Philly.”
Gleb stares at him like he’s reaching into his soul, and already, I can see the tension creeping in around his eyes. We need to tread carefully here, and I just hope Maxim chooses his words with caution.
“Once a week, she’d meet with Vasily. I never spoke with her at that time and didn’t know much about her. But I started to piece together what I suspected their business was after I saw her at a Vory gathering with you.”
