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He laughs quietly. “That’s fair, but I’m also here with a warning. We’ve been negotiating a deal with the Galatas and a few other minor farming families on Crete, but I’ve had my ear to the ground since showing up in Greece. Word is, more crime lords are picking the Filo side in all this. You’re short on time. Whatever you need to do to get this operation of yours moving, you’d better do it now.”
I clench my jaw. I knew that was coming, but to hear it from Luca doesn’t help. It feels like a noose is wrapped around my throat and the executioner is slightly tightening the knot.
“I’ll take care of my business.”
“Good.” He finishes his glass and puts it down on the bar. “You should call her, you know. She misses you.”
“Why is everyone telling me that?”
“Maybe it’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s not. Are we done?”
“We’re done.” But Luca doesn’t leave. He pauses and stares into the crowd. Then, quietly, he says, “For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. I never did like Rastus, and all that ugliness with your father—well, I understand how complicated our families can be. I can run interference for you for another few days, but after that, we’re leaving.”
“You don’t have to. Like you said, getting involved is a bad idea.”
“Bad ideas are fun sometimes.” He grins at me and winks. The fucker. “If I were you, I’d cut the head off the snake. The rest of the little critters will scatter after that. Good luck.”
Luca waves and walks off. I watch him go, wondering what the hell that was all about. But as I have a second glass of wine and stare at a TV playing some soccer match, his words begin to sink in.
Cut the head off the snake.
Kill Rastus.
He’s the main problem. Without him, we’ll have time and breathing room, and Balaska will be able to start wrangling the other crime lords in our direction. Kill Rastus and this can be done.
But there’s no way I’ll get close to the Filo boss anytime soon.
And besides, I have no muscle, no money, and only the barest minimum of resources.
If Adrienne were here, I’d drag her into my room and take my frustrations out on her. I’d wrestle her, pin her down, kiss her and tease her and make her moan until she can’t fight back anymore and she finally gives in.
She’s not here. I’m alone. And I have to kill Rastus before he finishes me.
Chapter26
Adrienne
The house is set back away from a main road and surrounded by an eight-foot-tall iron fence. Security cameras peer down at the sidewalk at even intervals. The man out front near the gate looks at his clipboard, frowns at me like I’m yesterday’s garbage, and buzzes me inside. I move past him and up a long driveway, past pristine shrubs and lovely flowers, and the sounds of Philadelphia’s Main Line recedes into the distance.
Once upon a time, the Main Line was a part of America’s aristocracy. This place was all blue bloods and boat shoes and Kennedys and country clubs. These days, the house looks like a man rich on generational wealth lives in it, but the owner isn’t cultured, isn’t noble, at least not in the way people around here used to be.
I ring the bell and a maid lets me inside. She’s got a bland smile. The sitting room I’m deposited into looks like everything my parents wanted but could never have. The man who owns this place was a client of my father’s, and that’s all my father would ever be to these people: an employee at best. Never a peer, never an equal.
The man that lives here has no equals.
An old clock ticks on the mantle. Every time I move, I’m afraid the couch might crack and break. It’s clearly meant to be seen, not to be sat on. But despite my wild discomfort, I keep my back straight, my chin up, and my hands folded in my lap. I have a mission and I’m not going to back down. No more cowering, no more fear. I have control of my life, and I don’t care what monsters I have to face to get what I want.
The door opens and Roman Lenkov steps into the room.
He’s a tall man, muscular, handsome, in his mid-fifties. His eyes are pale blue and his expression is bland, maybe amused, it’s hard to tell. He’s wearing a perfectly crisp suit, and he moves with the grace of a man used to getting his hands dirty. I feel very, very small as he approaches, and it takes all my willpower not to panic.
“Hello, Adrienne, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.” He shakes my hand and sits on the couch across from me. “Would you like anything? Tea? Coffee? Soda? Anything you want. Might as well put it to use, god knows I barely ever take advantage.”
“Uh, no, thank you, Mr. Lenkov.”
He smiles almost like he knows what the wordhappinessmeans, like happiness is something that has happened to someone he met once, but hasn’t everquiteexperienced the emotion himself. “Call me Roman. I’ve known you for a long time, Adrienne. I never got to say this, but I am very sorry about what happened to your parents. I very much liked your father. He was a good lawyer, if that matters to you, and an honorable man. There are few of those left in this world.”
