There’s no kiss, but for a moment, I wish there could be.
I spend the night tossing in bed, unable to sleep. I’m too nervous—too frayed.
Finally, I kick off the covers and sit up.
There’s a laptop on the desk, brand-new. I noticed it the second I walked in. I’m unsure if Yulian fit all the rooms with one for his guests—it would be a little overkill, even by his standards—but it’s a good thing it’s there. It’ll give me something to do.
I plug in my flash drive and wait.
There aren’t many new documents on it. I snatched it away too quickly. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take Brad’s laptop—he certainly wasn’t going to stop me—but right then, I was feeling too much. I just wanted to get out of there.
Now, predictably, hindsight is kicking my ass.
Whatever. I don’t need every sin Brad ever committed—just one. One good piece of blackmail, and Eli and I will be free of his shadow forever.
I click on a file named “LES Investors.”Lower East Side—Brad’s latest requalification project.
Then my heart stops.
I stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, but the words don’t change.
D.B. of P.
Those initials were everywhere. In the old papers I stole, dating back as far as Baldwin Senior’s time, and in the new ones, too. Only, this time, they’re no longer just initials.
It’s a full name.
Desya Bogdanov of Prizrak.
“No.” I try to tamp down my panic, but it’s useless. “No, Brad, you didn’t.”
But he did, didn’t he? He got into bed with Desya. With Prizrak. With the people who killed Yulian’s family.
And his father was in bed with them, too, twenty years ago.
Suddenly, Yulian’s words echo in my head. The words he spoke over Brad’s limp body, a gun in hand and fire in his eyes.
“Last time. Last fucking time I let him live.”
“He’s going to kill him,” I whisper.
12
MIA
In the morning, Eli insists on going to school. “It’s Taco Tuesday!” he pouts. “I can’t miss Taco Tuesday!”
“Fine,” I concede. “But if you’re not feeling well?—”
“I’ll tell Ms. Lawrence. Now, can Ipleasego get dressed?”
I roll my eyes and ruffle his hair. “Go on, Mr. Sassypants. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Yulian watches him go from the counter, sipping his morning coffee. “First time I’ve seen a kid begging to go to school.”
“To be fair, it’s a really good school.”
“Or they just have really good tacos.”
