AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ilya shook his head and sighed. “You’re there to ask him to work with us. There’s a briefcase with five million dollars, which is twice the amount his client will give him.”
“That’s easy enough. What happens if he says no?”
“I’ll kill him, then and there.”
I began to laugh, though Ilya didn’t find it amusing in the slightest. He glared at me through the mirror, knowing it was the only thing he could do. Anything else would’ve ended up with his head being cut off.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized before another fit of laughter erupted from me. “But if it were that easy to kill Davorin, don’t you think he would’ve been dead long ago?”
He was focused on the road now, and his knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. It was amusing how it only took a slight jab at his masculinity for him to become so aggrieved.
“Perhaps,” he muttered, displeased. “However, it’s not impossible to kill him.”
“Of course not,” I told him with a deep sigh. “However, if it comes to that,Iwill kill him. Not you. Do you understand me?”
His jaw ticked. “Yes, princess.”
I despised that nickname. I grew up as the only daughter of the Pakhan, a man who quite literally ruled over the illegal—and most of the legal—parts of Russia, half of Europe, and most of the United States. They’d given me that nickname because they believed my father spoiled his little daughter, the princess of Russia.
It was the farthest thing from the truth, but as a child, I’d stuck it out. It was the only thing that had given me hope that my father wasn’t the monster I perceived him to be; that perhaps I’d misunderstood him. It took a lot of growing up for me to realize that he didn’t regret his actions—that he’d meant to hurt me. And he’d done it in the worst ways possible.
Ilya’s voice broke my train of thought as the car came to a stop.
“I’ll be right there. If you feel endangered at any time, look at me, and I’ll get you out of here.”
I came to the conclusion that Ilya was definitely one of the most annoying people I’d ever known. “Fine. Let’s go—I don’t want to be late.”
Ilya left the car and opened the door for me. Then he took the silver briefcase from the trunk of the car and walked in front of me.
We were three minutes early, which was enough time to think of the things I needed to ask Davorin. I had a gut feeling he wouldn’t accept my request easily, and with Ilya by my side, it would be difficult to engage in a proper conversation. I had an idea how to get him on our side, though it wasn’t something Ilya’s poor ears should have to listen to.
Most of the building had been torn apart. Mainly because it had gone unused for a long time and had started to decay. Aleksei used it from time to time when he needed a quiet place to torture someone, far from anyone who could overhear.
I’d tagged along once, and the old bloodstain on the wall made the pretty memories flash through my head. It was the first time Aleksei had allowed me to take part in torture, and it had felt great. I’d released so much of my stress that I’d begged him to take me again.
The motherfucker had declined.
The basement room had been renovated purely for this meeting. It had a functional door, freshly painted walls, and a new carpet, plus a table with one chair on either side of it.
It was laughable how careless Aleksei was with his money. None of this was truly necessary. This meeting could have happened in a goddamn park in broad daylight.
I stepped into the room first, and Ilya closed the door behind me. Davorin was sitting across from me, in one of the chairs, his mask on.
There was a ghost of a smirk on his face. He was surprised that Aleksei had sent me in his stead, and it showed. The fun was about to start, and I was aching to have it all play out the way I wanted to. Given how I kicked him out the last time we saw each other, he did not expect to see me again so soon.
“Ekaterina Kalashnikova,” Davorin said. The way he spoke my name—his voice low—gave me chills. “This is an unexpected encounter.”
I felt Ilya tense behind me. “Are you displeased?”
Davorin leaned back in his chair. “Absolutely not. This is way better than I expected it would be.”
I took a seat on the empty chair and crossed my legs. The coat covered me fully, so if it came to it, all I needed was to take it off and, hopefully, my tits would make him change his mind.
Davorin took the initiative. “To what do I owe this… pleasure?”
He wasn’t looking at me; his eyes were fixed behind me, on Ilya. They were having some sort of staring contest, a childish game I had no time for.
“I’m aware that you were recently offered a hit on Martin Emmerson, and I know you accepted the deal.” I paused and snapped my fingers, and Ilya placed the silver briefcase in front of me. I opened it, inspected it for a moment, then turned it round and pushed it slightly towards the hitman. “I’m hoping this will change your mind.”
