"I am expert on Boss." The words come out clipped. "He like women. Very much like women. You, specifically."
"I'm a special kind of hostage. Lucky me."
"Strange." Pyotr says, eyeing me. "Why Boss keep you? Why not just—" He makes a gesture I don't want to interpret.
"Because he's protecting me from Dmitri."
"Protecting." He says the word like he's tasting it, finding it bitter. "Boss protect many people. Put in safe house, give them guards and money. He never bring home. He never feed strawberries. He never—" He stops himself, shaking his head. "This is not protection. This something else."
"Oh, really? Who could've guessed?"
Pyotr looks at me for a long moment. "You fuck him yet?"
My face burns. "That's none of your business."
"Ah, that is answer." He crosses his massive arms. "So not prostitute, not prisoner. Maybe you are... girlfriend?"
The word sounds foreign in his mouth. Wrong.
"I'm not his girlfriend."
"No? Then what you call this?" He gestures at the penthouse, at me in Ivan's shirt. "He keep you in his home. He touch you. He feed you." His eyes drop to the sketchbook I left on the couch. "He keep your drawings in his office."
I go still. "He what?"
"Misha tell me. Boss has drawings in office. Your drawings of him." Pyotr's expression is unreadable. "This is not how Boss treat prisoner. This is not how Boss treat anyone."
"Maybe he likes art."
"This is not about art."
"Why?"
"Because six families have daughters waiting. Good Russian girls from Bratva bloodlines. Girls who understand life, who understand loyalty, who won't run screaming when Boss come home with blood on hands."
"He's supposed to marry one of them."
"Is expected. Is tradition. Pakhan marry for alliance, for territory, for power." He looks at me as if I'm a problem he can't solve. "Not a girl who serve coffee."
"So me being here is?—"
"Insult. Plain and simple." He shrugs. "Boss might as well spit in their faces."
"Good to know I'm causing international incidents."
"You joke, but yes, you cause problems. Big problems." His scowl deepens. "What happen when Dmitri Volkov catch you?"
The change of subject gives me whiplash. "You said he'd kill me."
"No. I say he wants you dead. Different thing."
"I don't understand the difference."
"Volkov rarely kill women. Is waste." Pyotr watches me steadily. "He catch many women over years. Most still alive."
"Then what does he do with them?"
"What you think he do?"
