“I will not do it!” Colette yelled, slamming her palm against the desk. “I dare you to try to make me! You will kill me first.”
I kept my eyes on Lev. “At what cost?” I asked again.
Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He spoke in Russian, leaving the Italians out of his request. “One night with me.” The words swam across my mind after he had answered. Before I could respond, the Italians all stepped closer to me.
“Speak clearly,” Rocco said, his voice sharp. He rubbed his thumb across his upper lip, in slow strokes.
“Or she does not answer,” Romeo put in.
Lev grinned. “It was worth a try?” He lifted one blonde brow. Then he sighed. “I ask nothing in return. I have business on that boat. Are we good now,zolotse?”
I wasn’t sure where we were, but I had to take the chance. I nodded. “How is the traitor going to get me on the yacht?”
“I cannot be forced,” Colette said, taking a seat, crossing one long leg over the other. She laughed like a loon. “They will kill you all!”
“She goes in costume,” Lev continued on. “A wig, some—” he motioned to my face “—and in her clothes. I doubt anyone will notice if you go in her place. You speak fluent French.”
“A Frenchman could not tell the difference,” my mother said, marching into the meeting. The men at the door wouldn’t dare attempt to stop her. “What is going on here?”
She had arrived the day before. I skimmed over the most haunting details, but she understood the gist of the situation.
I couldn’t understand her feelings, but the look in her eyes told me she was concentrating. “What about her dance?” my mother asked.
Everyone turned to Colette at once.
“Pfft,” she said, sticking her nose up in the air, crossing her arms, jiggling her leg.
“After all that you’ve done, you won’t help me?” The weight of Romeo’s hand on my shoulder kept me grounded, but the longer she gave me the smug stare, the less responsible I was becoming for my actions.
She laughed again, this time in a manner that’d make dogs howl. Tears streamed down her golden cheeks, a mixture of mania and hysteria. Then in a second, the air went completely quiet. “Non.” She snapped her fingers at Vincenzo, requesting another cigarette.
Vincenzo handed her one, lighting it. She closed her eyes, inhaled with such pleasure on the first puff that she almost seemed euphoric, and then she loosened as she released the smoke into the atmosphere.
She closed her eyes, went to put the cigarette to her mouth once again, when I snatched it from her. I copied her movements—a few of the men’s mouths parted in surprise.
I bent closer to her, eye to eye. “You will tell me,” I said in perfect French, adapting her usual space-cadet attitude. “Or else…” I lifted one arm and shrugged. I switched to English for a moment, but still held the thickness of French. “Vivian will find herself…ah, how do you say?” I switched back to French. “Mort.”
“You bitch!” Colette rose to her feet, her panic visible—she no longer wore a shield. All of her feelings were above the surface of her skin, no place to hide. “How do you know about mymère?”
I snuffed the cigarette out on a gold-plated disc on the desk, giving her a blank stare. “We like to keep our friends close, but our enemies closer, Colette. And those they care about the most, for times like these.”
Brando had done some research. He had a feeling she was one of the traitors in our camp. Colette’s mother, Vivian, had been living in a home for years, some rich body footing the bill. After Colette’s treachery was confirmed, thanks to Lev, I knew for certain who the rich body was. Nemours. He covered his tracks well.
“He will kill her!” she hissed.
I shook my head. “Iwill kill her, if my husband doesn’t make it out of this situation alive.Comprendre?”
Our eyes held, will against will.
“Help us and we will protect your mother,” Rocco said. “If not, I have a man there. It will not be hard. He will be quick.”
Her eyes bubbled with tears, the ferocity behind them undulating with anger and fear.
“You have my word,” I said. “Nemours is a nuisance to the new French leader. He doesn’t have the same support as before.”
“What Scarlett says is the truth,” Romeo said softly. “You have my word as well. I will see that Vivian is treated well.”
Colette swiped her palms against her eyes before she turned to Romeo. I could feel some trust there. He had an ounce of her trust; I had none. The feeling was mutual, but in order for the two people we loved the most to make it out of this alive, we needed to give over what we could to each other. Love and hate—we were walking a fine line on the latter, both of us desperately wanting to save the first.
