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He smiles, dipping his head again. “No, of course not.”
“Are you working with Svetlana?”
Drazen’s face sours. “Your au… Sorry, yournot-aunt?” He shakes his head dismissively. “No, not in the slightest. Svetlana is…” he twists his fingers in the air next to his head. “Merely a blunt tool. A useful idiot, as they say.” He nods as one of his men sets the metal case on the low wooden coffee table between us. “She wanted that egg almost as much as I did. So I used that to get close to you. I hope you don’t take that personally.”
“I take you abducting Eilish pretty fucking personally.”
He nods. “That’s more than fair. And again, I apologize for my means to an end. Taking her was not meant to hurt her or punish you, merely tomotivateyou.” He turns and barks something in what might actually be Serbian, now that I think about it.
Seconds later, my face lights up when Eilish walks out of the house and into the courtyard.
My heart surges as I leap to my feet.
“A moment, Mr. Tsarenko.”
Drazen is still smiling cordially at me. But he’s also pointing a Beretta right at me.
“She will be freed in a moment. Please, sit.”
I stare at him lethally. “You have what you asked for. Release her,now.”
“Patience, please. All in good time. Sit down.”
When I just keep glaring, his smile fades a little.
“Sit down, Mr. Tsarenko.”
My eyes drag from him to Eilish. She’s being led out by an older woman—without a weapon, thank God—who’s dressed in a housekeeper’s uniform. Eilish’s hands are bound behind her, and there’s a gag over her mouth. But I can see she’s smiling at me through it as our eyes lock. Her head nods almost imperceptibly, as if to tell me she’s okay.
When the woman leads her to a chair across the table from me and lowers her into it, I sit as well. Drazen sighs.
“Somuch better, yes?” He nods to the woman who brought Eilish in, and then to his men. “Leave us.” Without question, they all file out of the courtyard. When we’re alone together, Drazen cracks his neck and smiles. “Good. Now we can talk like civilized people.”
I glare at him, but Drazen ignores me as he taps his fingers on the top of the metal case.
“You see, it’s not just that Idesirethis egg. It’s that itbelongsto me. It’s in my blood, Mr. Tsarenko. It’s my birthright.”
“You have an astonishing sense of entitlement,” I hiss quietly.
Drazen chuckles. “I know you didn’t come for one, but let me give you a brief history lesson anyway.” He taps the top of the case again. “This was commissioned by Tsarina Alexandra herself, the last empress of Russia.Imperskaya Gvardiya, or in Englishthe Imperial Shield Fabergé Egg. It was a gift for her favorite bodyguard, Ioaan Vasilyev. When the Bolsheviks were marching on the royal palace, Alexandra sent Ioann away with orders to flee the country with the egg and to meet up with her and her family in Paris. He did as he was told. Obviously, the Romanovs never got to France, since they were killed by the mob. And while he was waiting for news from Russia, Ioaan was murdered in his sleep, and the egg was lost.”
Drazen’s face darkens. “Ioaan Vasilyev was my great-great-grandfather.”
My jaw tightens.
Fuck me.
If this is true, the fucking thing reallyishis birthright. Which doesn’t change the fact that it’s smashed into forty-odd pieces right now.
“The men of my family have bled and died trying to reclaim this,” he growls. “My family should have been wealthy beyond measure, living as kings.”
“You seem to be doing okay,” I mutter.
Drazen smirks, lifting his gaze to the gorgeous palazzo around us. “Yes. I seem to have a penchant for the world of the Bratva.”
I glare at him. “Running around committing crimes and trying to murder the heads of other Bratva familiesdoes notmake you Bratva,” I hiss.
“No, but I believe this does.”
