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“Nevertheless,” he said, “that wasn’t your call to make. You’ve compromised the bratva’s position in the city.”
“I’ve done no such thing,” she said. “If anything, I’ve strengthened it.”
He dragged in a breath. “Please explain how approaching the leader of a rival organization strengthens our own.”
“They understand, or Julia Murphy does anyway, that it’s better for business — everyone’s business — if you’re in charge of the bratva. You have plans to work with the other organizations. No one else in the brava will even consider such a radical strategy.”
He shook his head, his face red with rage. “Tell me exactly what you told Julia Murphy.”
She shrugged. “Nothing confidential. Nothing that would compromise you.”
“Tell. Me.” He was so angry he almost couldn’t bite out the words.
She sighed. “I told her that while your position as pakhan was secure, there were a few loose ends that could use tying, loose ends that would further solidify your position and weed out the old element, the element less inclined to partner with rival organizations like the Syndicate. Then I told her that I wasn’t authorized to give more details, but that I thought a meeting between you and Ronan could be beneficial to both parties.”
“What else?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. The truth was, she liked Julia Murphy. She’d said what she had to say about a meeting between Ronan and Lyon, and they’d spent the rest of the time talking about the Murphy’s extraordinary house (not designed by Wright after all but by a student of his), about the increasing value of real estate in the suburbs, about the Murphys’ move from Boston to Chicago three years earlier.
Lyon pinned her with his eyes. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” she said. “The party is Saturday afternoon. Casual, Julia said, and at the Murphy house.” She walked past him and rinsed her cup in the sink. “I told her we’d be there.”
“You clearly misunderstood our conversation in Prague,” he said. “You are not authorized to undertake such negotiations. Nor are you authorized to promise my time. To anyone or anything.”
She turned to face him. “I wasn’t authorized to bring Nikolai and Borya and the others over to our side. But I did, and look how that turned out. Nikolai was there when you needed him with the Spies, and the other men have become loyal soldiers.”
“We don’t know Nikolai is who swayed the Spies.” Lyon had never shared his close relationship with Ivan with anyone but Alek, not even Kira back when he’d been too free with details, back when he’d thought he could trust her.
“And we don’t know he didn’t,” Kira said. “We need all the allies we can get. Having the Syndicate on our side can only help, now and in the future. Anyway, it will look bad for us if we don’t show up now.”
His expression was stormy. “You’ve backed me into a corner.”
“I’ve given you another weapon. You’re welcome.” She started for the stairs. “I told them to expect us around two.”
She felt his eyes on her as she left the room, as if he were firing heat-seeking missiles into her spine, but she didn’t look back. She had very few moves available to her. She’d made one, and while Lyon had been right — she had backed him into a corner — she’d been right too.
The Syndicate was another tool, another weapon.
She’d done Lyon a favor, whether he realized it yet or not.
29
Lyon stood in the great room, trying to look like he was taking in the extraordinary architecture of the Murphy house while he took the measure of its guests.
The Murphy clan was overwhelming — andclanwas the most appropriate word Lyon could think of to describe the boisterous group of men, women, and children milling around the house.
There were more than ten of them, and Lyon had lost count of the number of children weaving around the legs of the adults, who hardly blinked as they were jostled by the tykes wielding Nerf guns.
Lyon was almost impressed.
There were a handful of other guests Lyon didn’t know, but it was easy to spot the Murphy brothers — they were all big, and they all shared the same dark hair and light eyes, although the one named Finn had quite a beard. Lyon assumed the others in attendance were friends, or maybe Ronan’s inner circle with the Chicago Syndicate.
Lyon felt like he’d been dropped into an unfamiliar jungle, almost as dangerous as the one in which he lived and worked, and certainly noisier.
He scanned the crowd, looking for Kira, and found her in the kitchen, engaged in conversation with Kate Walsh, Declan Murphy’s wife. Lyon’s wife looked completely at ease with someone else's baby on her hip. She didn’t miss a beat as she fed the child Cheerios from a plastic dish while continuing her conversation with Kate, who was the CEO of Walsh Media Company.
He’d been annoyed when Kira had printed a list of the people — complete with photographs — she expected to be present at the Murphy house, and even more annoyed when she’d insisted he memorize their names and personal details.
