Carlyle
Tapping my foot absently as I scanned the culmination of a week’s worth of Illya working diligently, I grunted lowly. She hovered around me like a fly, but I didn’t try to swat her away. After all, she was anxious about today despite my many, many attempts to tell her it didn’t matter. Her interview was a setup, but sheinsistedon going through with meeting these guys.
I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t particularly care if she wanted to torture or validate what she was indirectly responsible for.
“Based on the financial records you gave me, it’s exactly what I expected. It’s mostly Oran and your father who got the brunt of the scheme.” I only nodded, and she dropped heavily into the kitchen chair with a sigh. “I need a week of sleep to get over all the crap spinning in my head.”
“That’s fine, Illya. Your next assignment isn’t for thirteen days. I want you to succeed, so take whatever time you feel you need.” I’ll admit, I had a huge soft spot for Illya, and she smiled gratefully at me as I tossed the sheath of papers on the table. Frowning under furrowed brows, I rolled my jaw as I scanned her through narrowed eyes. “You look tired. Has Oran been giving you any trouble?”
“Uh, not really. I hate his attitude, but most of the time, it’s not directed at me.” Her grumble pulled a chuckle from my chest, and I propped my arm behind my head as she sunk into her seat a little. “I wish he’d leave. Your dad is lovely, though. You’d think with him being a sociopath and stuff, he’d be less . . . nice and . . . I dunno . . . approachable.”
“He does have that effect on people, Illya. Don’t get too comfortable with him, though. He’s just as likely to turn on you as beniceto you.” Oran and my father were leaving in a few days, and I, personally, couldn’t wait for them to stop criticizing my every move. I could sneeze, and Oran would tell me I didn’t do it right. “You seem a lot more upset about these five men interviewing you than kidnapping the daughter of a mafia don even though the same thing will happen to all of them.”
“It’s been a long time since I had to use these kinds of skills, and they’re my peers. In some messed up way, I want their approval. Also, I’m the one who figured it all out. What if they know? Even though nothing will happen, it still makes me nervous, thinking somethingcouldhappen because of what I know.” Her worries were valid, and I couldn’t help but smile when she sat up with a huff. “I still want Theo there, just in case.”
“I’m fully prepared to let you have that. What about the princess?” Truly, Illya worried about the weirdest shit, and she shrugged carelessly at my probe. Glancing down at my watch, I stood up and pushed the chair in even though she stayed seated. “It’s about time we go introduce you.”
“Does it make you mad that you got duped for more than two years?” Lifting herself up as she posed her question, Illya’s tone dribbled with curiosity, and I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. We headed out of her apartment, and I opened the door for her as my mind ticked around in circles.
Of course, I was pissed, but the fact of the matter was I’d known about it, at least had an inkling something was amiss. My suspicion coincided perfectly with finding Illya, and then, I just needed an in to get her on board with me. It helped a lot that Oran, despite being near the center of everything, didn’t realize something was going on with the translator's bank accounts until about seven months ago.
Humiliating him was just too good an opportunity to pass up.
“I suppose it evens out. Money’s not an object for me, but the disrespect they showed me is about to get repaid ten-fold. This sets an example as if there was any need for one. It’s been a long, long time since I personally intervened in drudge business, but I’m actually a little excited. I know my father puts his faith in me, but this just helps cement it. As you’ve said all along, Illya, I minimize my need for translators, so the fault for this whole thing lies squarely on Oran’s shoulders.” A malicious glee bubbled up like tar in my chest at my own words, and I nudged her gently with my elbow with a happy sigh. “That being said, I don’t want you traumatized unnecessarily because you insist on meeting them. You’re not going to watch the live-stream, and I really don’t see the point in actually having an interview, Illya.”
“I just want to know I’m not shit after all these years, Carlyle.” That was exactly the answer I expected her to give, and my smile widened on the way down the hallway. “It’s their fault for trying something, no matter how sneaky or creative it was. Crime never pays when your boss himself is a criminal.”
“Hey, hey, hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” I couldn’t help myself as I laughed, and she shoved me playfully, with a little scowl. “No, but seriously, Illya, how is meeting them going to help you?”
“Assuming they won’t speak English at me, it’d be a good test. I thought after I work up enough, maybe you’d be willing to ship me off to Europe? I’ve got Spanish down packed, but the rest . . . I’ve never actually been to Russia or Italy, and I want to know how I stack up.” The none-too-subtle hint of going abroad didn’t escape me, and I hummed in acknowledgment. It wouldn’t be too bad an idea to ship her off, and it’d be beneficial to me in the future.
“We’ll talk about it when the time comes, sure.” Bobbing her head happily, Illya practically giggled a hum, and I put my hand gently on her shoulder. Goosebumps prickled up my arm under my shirt, but I tried to beat down the roiling in my stomach at the memory that flashed behind my lids when I blinked. “It’s almost the end of August. How long has it been since you’ve seen the snow?”
“Um . . . Carlyle . . . ” The sudden gravity in her tone stiffened my muscles with my thumb on the elevator button, and Illya turned to me under furrowed brows. “It’s about Theo.”
“What about him?” Theo never talked to me about Illya, and she never talked to me about him, and curiosity arched my brows. “Is this about when you drove his car and—”
“Uh . . . no. You said a few days ago that this job is about both of us, but so far, you’ve only talked about my part.” The expectation in her tone drew down my eyebrows, and I cocked my head as I punched the elevator button without looking away from her.
“We’ll talk about it after your interview, Illya. I want to get this out of the way. You can decide when, but for now, it’s not very important.” The doors slid open just as I finished speaking, and I smiled reassuringly as I propped my palm on her crown. “One thing at a time.”
“Okay.” I gestured her into the elevator with a slight shake of my head, and Illya huffed softly and wiggled her shoulders. Truth be told, I didn’t want to tell her any more than she had to know. Her job was simple— find a specific bitch and drug her, and Theo would handle the rest. The Italian Mafia and I were on alright terms— not exactly good, but not too shabby, either— and I didn’t want to waste this opportunity.
To crush them under my heel.
Who the fuck did that crusty, old bastard think he was, telling me he’dsellme his daughter? I sure as fuck wasn’t going to pay money on a deal that did nothing for me. Not to mention, she had a reputation for being a spoiled bitch.
No, thanks. I’ll take a rain check.
“Theo should already be there. Don’t be too nervous, Illya. You’ll do great. I have the utmost faith in you.” Steering my mind off that trail, I pressed my palm against the small of her back, and Illya took a stabilizing breath. The elevator jostled to a stop, the doors sliding open again to lead down a hallway that would eventually bring us to the bridge. This warehouse had to be entirely remodeled, but I kept the original design because having a bridge was friggin' cool, in my personal opinion.
Nodding to herself, Illya strode a little steadier, and my smile faltered as I turned my thoughts to what came next.
