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We’ve decided meeting at her family’s estate is the safest bet. No Nadya hovering nearby and less chance of listening devices planted on the property, or at least here in the living room only the women use to entertain. We’re seated around a small table, fashion magazines spread out in front of us.
When Roman thinks we’re thumbing through the latest styles, he’s happy to ignore us. Which is the point. But when Iturn back to get a better look at him, his eyes are glued to us as if we’re actually doing something of interest.
No, correction. Not glued to me. Glued to Liza. He’s returning her dark scowl. I suppose the feeling is mutual.
“How do we get rid of him?” She glowers his way, the midday light casting soft shadows across her face.
I laugh. “We don’t. Ignore him. He’s staring to be a dick.” I stick my tongue out at Roman, and he returns a one-finger salute, then goes back to typing furiously on his phone.
Since Roman was assigned as my guard, we’ve settled into a kind of sibling-like relationship. I tease him, he rolls his eyes and acts like I’m not hilarious, but overall it’s an easy vibe between us, which is more than I can say about the others in the household.
Since theSocietyphoto shoot, I have seen little of Maxim. He falls into bed in the early hours or the morning and is always gone by the time I wake. The only sign he’s slept in the same room as me is his scent still clinging to his pillow. A scent somewhere between musk, leather, and man. Not that I’ve spent too long analyzing it. Not that I bury my face in his pillow and inhale deeply. Who would do that?
Back when I lived in New York, I used to jolt awake, heart pounding, drenched in guilt over Masha’s death. But lately, that hasn’t happened. The nightmares come, but they also fade away before they wake me up. Which makes no sense because I literally sleep in her killer’s bed.
Maybe peace comes knowing I’ll get my revenge soon. Not that I’ve made much headway. Snooping around the house is near impossible with guards and cameras everywhere, and Maxim’s inner circle is tight-lipped. Tonight will be my first real opportunity to dig.
We have dinner at Mayor Rashnikov’s home, along with other prominent guests. Earlier today, Liza gave me a lay of theland—a who’s who of Russian politics, business, and culture. Much has changed since I left nearly five years ago. But it’s the mayor that I will be focused on. Liza agreed he knows everyone’s secrets—blackmail is his stock in trade—and he has a weakness for women. Which is super icky, but it also makes him a perfect source. I just need to get him alone.
When I glance up from the magazine I was casually flipping through, Roman is in front of me, a phone pressed to his ear.
“Hold on,” he says into the receiver. To me, he says, “I have to go out and deal with something. Will you be okay here for a bit?” His eyes ping between Liza and me.
She picks up another magazine and thumbs through it, purposefully ignoring Roman’s presence.
“It’s fine. Go deal with what you need to. I’ll be right here.”
Roman nods. “I won’t be long.”
I shoo him away with my hands.
Liza’s family has plenty of guards around. It’s probably the only reason he feels comfortable stepping away. While it hasn’t been explicitly said, I can tell things are heating up with the Black Company. Maxim, Pavel, and Roman have been locked up in meetings most days, and everyone seems … I don’t know. Tense. Although, maybe they are always like this. It’s not like they tell me shit. I’m only the arm candy.
Liza watches him walk away, a curious expression on her face. “Shocker. He’s leaving you unattended for more than five minutes.”
I bite out a laugh. “Guess I’ve been on good behavior. But now that we’re alone…” I scoot forward in my seat. “Have you spoken to your father yet?”
She looks down at her hands and fidgets. There’s something she doesn’t want to tell me.
“Out with it,” I demand.
“He’s still in Poland, but we spoke on the phone. He told me not to stick my nose into other people's business. Said I was going to get myself into trouble asking questions about Belov.”
My heart sinks. I was really counting on Boris and his loose lips. “But … didn’t you remind him he’s the one who spilled the beans in the first place?”
"Of course. It doesn’t mean anything, only that my father is now sober enough to be scared of Belov.” Her eyes soften with a hint of sympathy.
I slump back into my seat. “It makes getting the mayor alone tonight that much more important.”
“He’s a major creep, Kira. I’m really not sure it’s worth it.”
“Come on,” I plead. “It’s my only chance.”
She sighs. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
When I agree, she gives me a mischievous smile.
“By the way, look what just went live online.” She holds her phone between us, and I realize we’re looking atSociety Magazine’s website, featuring pictures of Maxim and me.
