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Sean steers the poor bastard to a chair. “What were you thinking?”
“There’s… a man downstairs… elevator’s full…” He groans, leaning his head back against the wall, pouring sweat. “Wanted to move.”
“Hey, don’t pass out before you tell us why this was so important you nearly killed yourself running up here.” Sean lightly slaps the soldier’s face.
“Right, he’s one of Rustik’s men… he says the big boss… wants a meeting.” He sighs, slumping sideways out of the chair. Still alive, only lying on the cool tile floor.
Sean gives me a look. “Is this the move you’re waiting for?”
I shake my head, feeling unnerved. My meeting with Corgan only just finished; it’s either incredible timing or Rustik is keeping closer tabs than I guessed. “No. It’s not. I didn’t expect to hear from him yet.”
“What should we do?”
I call the elevator without answering. Sean shrugs and falls into line. I glance back at the soldier as he rolls onto his back, groaning. An elevator comes after a few seconds of waiting and we ride it down to the main building lobby where a very blond man’s sitting surrounded by several of my guards. They all try to look casual as other business folks bustle through the busy office structure’s front room, but everyone keeps looking over at the very obviously dangerous group of suit-wearing thugs.
“You look like a cliché from a gangster movie,” I growl at them. “Disperse. Except you.” I stare at Rustik’s man. “You have a message.”
He nods placidly. “My boss would like to set up a meeting.”
“Where and when?”
“Tomorrow at noon. There’s the Waterfront Park. Public and crowded.”
I nod once. “Acceptable.”
“He has only one demand.” The man has the good sense to look sheepish. “You have to bring Alisa Rostova.”
My jaw tics. I stare at the man, tempted to dig my fingers into his windpipe until he turns purple, but he’s not the one making the rules. Killing the messenger is frowned upon, and all that.
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Then I was instructed to say the meeting won’t happen.” He stands up. “I’m sorry. That’s what I was told.”
“Tell Rustik I’ll consider his offer.”
He nods and hurries off. I watch him go with a sense of deep unease.
“What’s the plan?” Sean asks.
“We’ll lock the park down. I want every soldier we have within spitting distance. If Rustik so much as twitches wrong, he dies.”
Killing him wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it would make my life harder. The Aslan Bratva would go into full-on revenge mode as some other captain or lieutenant took over, and they’d leverage all their considerable power and political connections against me. I think I could win, but I’m not sure there’d be anything worthwhile left over if this war turns hot that suddenly.
“And the girl?” Sean asks. I give him a sharp look that makes him grimace. “I mean, your wife?”
“She’ll come, mainly because she’s more useful to me there than she is sitting at home.” I turn away. I don’t want him to see the deep unease I feel about putting Alisa anywhere near danger. She’s much, much too precious to risk on a foolish meeting such at this, but it may be my only chance to speak with Rustik directly, and I can’t pass it up.
At least I have a feeling she’ll be elated to have something to do, if only to annoy me to no end.
Chapter 17
Alisa
“When I picture a nice walk in the park with my husband, this isn’t really how I thought it’d go down.” I lean up against Liam, grinning up at him and batting my eyes. He gives me a hard look, not in the mood to play around. The Waterfront Park presses up against the river, and while the cherry blossoms aren’t in bloom, it’s still a beautiful stretch of grass and concrete. Groups of people jog, ride bikes, roller skate, and stroll in the sunshine.
Nearby, about two dozen heavily armed men lurk around the trees and bushes looking absurdly out of place.
“Did you want to have that sort of relationship with me?” he asks, putting an arm across my shoulders. “I assumed you were more into the fighting and spanking.”
“It’s nice to be treated like a regular girl once in a while, you know.”
“Should we plan a honeymoon then?”
“I won’t complain. I could use a vacation for once.”
“Where would you want to go?”
“Paris,” I answer immediately.
His eyebrows raise. “Really?”
“I’ve never been out of the country before,” I admit, feeling a little embarrassed about it. “I know it’s a cliché, going to Paris or whatever, but I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“You’d like it,” he says softly. “It’s a beautiful city. Lots of things to do.”
“You’ve been?”
“I traveled in my youth.”
“What, like, you backpacked through Europe?”
His smile is distant as he looks out at the water. “Not exactly. I stayed in five-star hotels.”
