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“Is your mother not alive?”
“She is. But she’s a Morozov by marriage, not by blood. And women aren’t considered eligible to bePakhans. Leo…is.”
Anger flashes across her face like a strike of lightning. “If you think that—”
“Idon’t, Lyla,” I snap. I’m under no delusions she’ll want our son involved in any of this. “Bianchi won’t be easy to deal with, but I’ll make sure we have an understanding when it comes to you and Leo returning to the States. And Dmitriy…I need to take care of him.”
Lyla drops the charm, leans back, and blows out a frustrated sigh. “What are you saying, Nick? How long will we be stuck here?”
I exhale. “I’m sorry—truly, I am—that this is all happening. But I need some time. To smooth things over with Bianchi. To deal with Dmitriy. And the safest place for you and Leo is here.”
“How long?” she bites out, not acknowledging my apology.
“I don’t know.”
Her exhale is long and heavy.
“I have men packing up your apartment. All your clothing and personal items will arrive tomorrow. And Leo has been enrolled at a private school in the city.”
“Aren’t you efficient?” Her tone is sarcastic. “What about my apartment? My car? My jobs?”
It’s news to me that she has more than one, but I don’t mention that right now. “It’ll be best if you and Leo totally disappear for the time being.”
“What about the men in the hallway? I’ll be wanted for questioning by the police.”
“They were taken care of. The police won’t be involved.” Assuming Callahan did his job, there won’t be a drop of blood to test.
She considers that, then says almost triumphantly, “Leo’s school will call them. So will my office.”
I bury a smirk. It’s oddly endearing—how little power she thinks I have. How much faith she has in the average person to do the right thing when it doesn’t directly affect them. How she thinks a shiny badge means you can’t be bought.
Everyone has a price.
“I’ll handle it. Once I’ve dealt with Dmitriy and Bianchi, you’ll be able to go back to Philadelphia. I promise.”
Twin lines form between her eyes as she studies me with suspicion. “I thought you ‘don’t make’ promises.”
I told her that the first night we met. Then, I knew we were temporary. I knew the girl who was oblivious to every guy in the kitchen checking her out and who gnawed on her bottom lip when she was nervous deserved assurances from someone with something concrete to offer her.
“Because I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
There’s no keeping Lyla out of anything now. There’s just minimizing risks while doing my damnedest to keep her and Leo safe.
Lyla sighs. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“You do. It’s just not the one you want to make.”
She looks away, back at the bookshelf. “I was…dating someone. And I have a best friend. Her son is the same age as Leo. They’re best friends. I can’t…they won’t just call the police. They’ll worry too. Can’t I call? Or email? Or—”
“That can all be tracked or traced. But…” I sigh. “I have a private line you can use for abriefcall. And if you want to write them something, I’ll have Alex deliver it.”
“He’s still there?”
“Yes. His residency lasts a few more months.”
“I thought he said he works for you. That he’s involved in…all this.”
“He is.”
