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I can’t bring myself to stop staring. She’s good, I’ll give her that much—but I’m better. There’s no way in hell I’m giving her my real phone number. She’d be able to track me down and tap my phone lines with ease.
Thankfully, I’ve already got a program on my computer that can drum up a random series of numbers I can use to mask my outgoing calls. It was a side project of mine several summers ago because I was bored as hell, and I figured it could come in handy if I ever needed to reach out to my brothers in an emergency.
Dani moves to pull something out of her pocket. “Here, let me grab you a pen.”
“No need, I have my own.” I reach into the inside pocket of my jacket and pull out my pen. Like I’d ever deliberately touch anything she’s handed me. The last thing I want are my fingerprints in the FBI’s database. I’ll have to remember to wear gloves next time I run into her.
I take her hand and drag the pen over her palm, writing a burner number I’ve got memorized. She watches me the whole time. I don’t think she’s breathing.
“Text me when you’re off work,” I tell her. I’m providing her an opportunity to get up close and personal.
Dani nods. “I will.”
When she doesn’t leave right away, I ask, “Don’t you have a package to deliver?”
This seems to startle her into action. “R-right. Um… Later, then.”
She turns and sprints off down the road. I have no doubt she’s going to round the corner and wait until the coast is clear before she returns to her team. I’ve already identified two of them. The woman inside the restaurant and the middle-aged man I saw barreling out of the van across the street.
“Is everything alright, son?” My father, Lev, asks me as he exits the restaurant. He leans heavily on his cane. “What was all that about?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. “I’m sorry that woman cut our match short.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “I was losing, anyway. If anything, she spared me from a humiliating defeat.”
Lev’s guards stand to either side of him. I look Gregor, the one on the left, directly in the eye. “Take him home immediately. No stops.”
“Yes, sir.”
I give my father a hug. It’s not as stiff and awkward as it used to be. Unlike my brothers, I didn’t get to know my father until he returned to us a few years ago. Getting to know him has been a struggle.
Between his failing memory and poor health, I consider myself lucky if we can get through dinner without him spacing out into oblivion. It was his idea to meet once a week to play chess over a bowl of borscht, though we don’t end up talking much. He’s been getting better, though, which I’m thankful for. He’s got the best doctors in New York, and living with my mother, Catherina, out on Long Island has been good for his lungs.
Still, it’s hard when your own father feels more like a stranger than family.
“I’ll see you next week,” I tell Lev.
“Your mother has been asking to see you.”
I grit my teeth. My jaw pops. If I ever get around to seeing a specialist, I’m worried they’ll tell me my jaw is beyond repair at this point.
“So?” I huff dismissively.
Lev hits me with one of his classic guilt trip looks. It almost works. Almost.
The sad fact of the matter is there’s no love lost between us. My brothers and I never knew Catherina to be a particularly loving or nurturing mother figure. I hadn’t been born yet, so I can’t speak to the horrors of my family’s escape from Russia all those years ago, but I experienced first-hand how it impacted Catherina. I’ve always known her to be cold and distant, barely there when it counted, and cruel more often than not.
Mikhail raised me, Dimitri made me smile, and Pyotr protected me at every turn—even though they were only children themselves.
Now that we’re older—and notably successful—Catherina has been making an effort to reach out. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how hard she’s trying to make amends. Too little, too late if you ask me.
I have to be careful about what I say now that the FBI has eyes on me, so I answer him bluntly, “Tell her to reach out herself. You’re not her damn messenger.”
I turn away and head straight for the nearest subway station. I could drive an insanely expensive car, but that would mean registering it with an address and struggling to find parking in the ever-busy city. I prefer the anonymity of the subway. I pull up my hood to obscure my face, keeping my eyes down and my pace brisk. I’ve got too much on my mind right now to worry about playing nice with Mother Dearest.
I hurry home. I’m sure I’m being watched from afar, but I can’t stray from my usual route. From here on out, I need to proceed as I normally would; otherwise, I might tip Dani and her colleagues off before her little operation has even begun. What I need is time and patience to draw her in, lower her guard, and when the moment is right—
That’s when I’ll make my move.
