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Fuck. Clara was right.
“I’m pissed, is what I am, Raizo.” I set my teacup down carefully. “I’m pissed at whoever did this to my men as well as me.”
He raises his teacup to me in a mock salute. “Here’s to you finding the bastard. Or the bitch, I suppose. Whoever they may be.”
Bull-fucking-shit.I blink slowly. Better now than never. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the attacks, would you? Word on the grapevine, so to speak.”
Raizo lowers his cup at a snail’s pace, his eyes narrowed at me. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” he finally says in response. “But I do not actually know everything about everything that goes on in this city.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. You have eyes and ears all over Vegas. And hands.”
He chuckles, but I don’t believe it for a second. It’s too forced. Too theatrical. “Not as much as Greg does. We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now, so you’ll need to go after him yourself.”
“I didn’t know you’re friendly with the police,” I calmly remark.
“I’m not.”
Now, it’s my turn to narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, but I think you are. Detective Everett was there at the auction, alongside his little protégé. I sure as shit didn’t invite them. I do hope they didn’t give you any trouble.”
Raizo sips his tea with a shrug. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’ve always wanted an excuse to give Marty a good beating, anyway.”
I lean back and brood. Is he doing this on purpose? Or does he really not realize how much information he’s revealing?
There’s a part of me that still wants to hold on to the stubborn idea that Clara lied about everything to save her own skin. Mainly because that would exonerate me from all guilt over losing her to Raizo and his perverted auction.
But I’d have to be blind, deaf, and brain-dead to miss the not-so-subtle clues the Yakuza lord keeps dropping.He knows what’s happening.
I’m about to call him out on his bluff and maybe, finally, risk my own public reputation by breaking Raizo’s arm over this low table when my phone buzzes.
OLEG:We need to talk.
My teeth start grinding. What doeshewant?
DEMYEN:No, we really don’t
OLEG:Don’t get sassy with me, boy. I have something to show you.
DEMYEN:This sounds like it could be a phone call
OLEG:Trust me, you’ll hate yourself if you don’t come
Trust him.As if. That’s the most hilarious joke he’s told in years.
DEMYEN: Fine. But I’m not coming alone.
“Who are you texting?” Raizo asks like it’s any of his business. He’s not being aggressive about it, just… nosy.
“Just some family,” I say with a casual sigh. “Trying to make plans to catch up before they go back home.”
Raizo smiles and nods. “I haven’t seen Oleg in years. Give him my regards for me, will you?”
I pretend like my sudden full-body pause is because I’m trying to think of something new to text, and not at all because Raizo’s revealed his trump card.
No one knows my father’s in the country. Not even his own Bratva.
So how the hell doesRaizoknow?
“Absolutely.” Once again, I slap on one of my signature smiles. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear from an old friend.”
