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Chapter 17 – Constantine
Aphone call detailingthe final information for my job delayed the rendezvous with my wife. Given the lateness of the hour, I debated skipping the social interaction. I had to leave by nine, and Talia had no doubt started eating already. Keeping focused and a clear head were essential preparations for my work. Yet, despite my resolve, I found myself on my bike, speeding toward Talia. When I arrived at the cozy little restaurant, I found her bodyguard posted near the front with a tight look on his face. I bent my head and sent Francis a message asking if everything was all right. It wasn’t. Based on his feedback, I directed the host to lead me to a discreet table on the other side of the restaurant. In this position, my view of the restaurant was unobstructed, and I could see Talia already had a broiled plate of fish in front of her.
But she wasn’t eating—and she wasn’t alone.
She was reclined in her chair, fingers curled around a water glass as she scowled at the porky greaseball across from her. A track suit and bling covered his stocky frame, his thinning hair gelled and combed over in an attempt to hide premature balding. He was most likely a local gangster.
The sight of them together had rage sizzling in my veins, and I had to restrain myself from rushing over and ripping him away from her. Talia might be here to kill me, but she was stillmine.Only one thought stopped me—this might be a contact arranged by Talia. It was entirely possible the prick was here to arrange my demise.
When the waiter came to my table with a menu, I handed him a large bill of money. “A bottle of flat water and information,” I said in perfect Greek.
The young man’s eyes flared, but he nodded eagerly and slid the bill into the interior of his uniform. “What do you wish to know, sir?”
“That man dining over there, the one with the gold chain and too many rings,” I said under my breath, eyes on the menu in front of me. I discreetly watched as the waiter shifted his stance and angled the menu, so that it looked like he was showing me the selections rather than staring over the dining space. It was a smart move.
When the waiter saw who I meant, he paled. “Mr. Strapenopilis.He’s not someone to cross.”
I figured as much, and the name rang familiar. The prick dining with my wife was one of the local bosses, not the top dog but with enough of a reputation that he was not to be messed with. That was all I had on him, though. I ground my teeth in frustration. Well, if he thought he could saunter in and take what belonged to me, this thug had another thing coming.
“How many soldiers does Mr. Strapenopilis have?” I pulled out another bill and set it in the place setting on the table, partially covered by the napkin.
“Sir would like the details on the vintages? I’ll be right back with that,” the waiter replied with a smile.
“The water too,” I called.
He nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Alone, I stewed on a mixture of emotions as I stared at them from the shadows. There were no illusions of what kind of creature Talia was; she was a seductress with a kiss that could kill. However, she was my problem to solve. Mine to dance this death waltz with. To see her with another man incensed me. As lethal thoughts skittered through my mind, the scene before me began to register. Talia wasn’t enjoying herself. Whoever this contact was, stranger or accomplice, she sat before him stiff and formal.
When Talia brushed a hand against the side of her neck and looked around, a shot of adrenaline jolted through me. She couldfeelmy watchful gaze, but she was too distracted to seek me out.
I wet my dry lips. The longer I watched, the more I convinced myself Talia was trapped but was too proud to admit it.Why didn’t I have more than one guard on her?
The answer came immediately:Because I didn’t want her to think she was caged.My hands fisted, and I attempted to steady my breathing. It was perfectly normal to have one bodyguard, and my order to Francis was that he not crowd her. I’d thought to give Talia freedom, so I could watch what she did with it, but that display of hubris now had her in a compromising situation.
Although the ambiance was casual, the restaurant was packed. Every table presented a variety of patrons enjoying the spectacular food and beverage selections. I picked out two tables containing cronies who were definitely with the sleezy gangster. Unwilling to make a move until I had as much information as possible, I had no choice but to remain vigilant.
Francis: What are your orders, boss?
Setting my phone down, I stroked my chin. I’d come alone, planning to leave here straight away for my job up north. While guards were good for crowded situations or to intimidate potential enemies, when I put on the mask of death, I didn’t need anyone watching my back.
Still, that only meant there were two of us facing down a pack of ill-mannered thugs.
Me: I’m gathering information. Hold tight.
The fact he hadn’t updated me immediately about my wife’s dinner guest didn’t please me. But that formality would have to be sorted later with Francis. Just because I told him not to crowd her, didn’t mean I shouldn’t be updated on developments. Especially when they involved local criminals.
Francis: Copy that.
