“Did you check his banking app?” I asked. “We can see how he got paid.”
I was just doing what we’d do in the FBI, but Gennadiy looked impressed, and fired up the app. “Twenty thousand paid in, a few hours before he showed up at your apartment,” said Gennadiy. Both of us spoke at the same time: “We should look into the account he waspaid from.” Then we both blinked at each other, surprised. We were on opposite sides, but we worked well together.
“Let’s go home,” said Gennadiy, and led the way to the cars. I fell in beside him, deep in thought.He killed that guy because he hurt me.Could I really be with someone who killed so easily? And he was only getting worse over time, ruthlessly expanding even though the Aristov empire was already huge, brutally killing anyone in his path. It only ended one way: with Gennadiy dead in some gun battle. I’d lose him.
I felt my fists bunch.No. Fuck that.I wasn’t going to lose the only person who got me. The only one who made me feel safe, and beautiful, and complete.
Three months before, when I’d stood outside the burning theater, something inside me had hardened into unwavering resolve. Now, I felt it happening again.
Once, I’d sworn to take Gennadiy Aristov down.
Now, I was going to save him.
41
ALISON
Back at the mansion,Gennadiy was pulled straight into a phone call and then had to race off to the casino to solve some problem there. I’d always known he was busy, but now that I was on the inside, I was starting to see how massively overstretched he was, and there didn’t seem to be anyone he could hand things off to. It slowly hit me that the Bratva wasn’t like a business, or even like the FBI. You can hire more managers, train more agents, but you can’t just magic up more brothers or uncles, and family were the only people Gennadiy trusted enough to delegate to.
I explored more of the enormous house and stumbled upon a whole crowd of Russian men in suits sitting, cleaning their guns: Gennadiy’s security. They showed me their area, which took up most of one wing of the first floor. There was a barracks, a break room, and even a small shooting range.
I went back to the staircase and climbed all the way up to the top floor, trailing my hand along the thick, wooden banister. I found Melina changing the sheets in one of the bedrooms. “Need a hand?” I asked from the doorway.
She stopped and stared: apparently, she wasn’t used to beingasked that. Then she shook her head politely. “No, thank you. It’s my job.” And she carried on, tucking corners with ruthless precision.
Further down the hall, I stopped when I glimpsed a pair of legs through a window. A wooden door with an ornate brass handle led out onto a long stone balcony that stretched along the back of the house, looking out over the gardens. And from that balcony, a narrow stone staircase led up. The legs I’d seen were climbing up the stairs.But what’s up there? This is the top floor!
I opened the door and went out onto the balcony, blinking in the sunlight. I was just in time to see the legs at the top of the staircase before they turned a corner and disappeared from view. There must be some sort of roof terrace up there. But at least I knew who it was: I’d caught a glimpse of a long coat.Valentin.
Back inside, I followed the staircase down to the first floor...and heard a dog yowling as if in pain. I froze...and heard another one howl, this time in absolute agony.I raced down the hallway...and pulled up short in the doorway.
The room was big, with black and white tiles that were very old, but scrupulously clean. An old-fashioned tin bath sat in the middle of the room, full of soapy water. It was surrounded by Mikhail’s four huge Malamutes, barking and howling and in various states of being washed. And in the middle of it all, kneeling next to the tub and stripped to the waist, was Mikhail himself, issuing orders in Russian and being ignored. As I watched, one dog excitedly jumped into the tub, jumped out dripping wet, and yowledplaintively. The other three decided this was a good idea and joined in, throwing back their heads and group-yowling. Bathtime was either the worst torture imaginable or the most fun ever: they weren’t sure. Mikhail shook his head and sighed, then laughed.
“Want a hand?” I asked. I’m not good at sitting idle.
Mikhail twisted around to look at me. “You’ll get wet,” he warned.
I pulled off my sweater and put it down on a chair, leaving me in a tank top. Then I knelt next to Mikhail. He was an intimidating sight, up close. He might have been a little older than the others, but hisback and arms rippled with muscle, and he was still lean. One of the dogs bounded up to me and nuzzled my ear, and I shrieked and giggled.
With two of us, it was a little easier to corral the dogs one by one into the tub, shampoo their fur, and then rinse them. But only a little. There was a lot of dramatic howling, splashing, and dogs bounding after bits of foam that floated through the air.
We worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then, “I saw Valentin just now,” I said. “Heading up to the roof.”
Mikhail nodded. “That’s his...what is it you call it? Hishappy place.”His Russian accent was warmly comforting. “He spends all his time up high: balconies, fire escapes, rooftops. Watching his targets. Like an... evil Batman.” He laughed.
I nodded, and we shampooed and rinsed for another few minutes. Then, “I wasn’t ready for Gennadiy to just...kill that guy,” I blurted.
Mikhail nodded, suddenly somber. “You come from a world where even criminals have rights. Our world is brutal, and it can be cold.” He scratched a wet dog behind both ears at once, and it panted in joy. “But if someone hurts someone we love, there are no courts, or rights, or plea bargains. That person is dead. Gennadiywillkill anyone who harms you. As would Radimir, for Bronwyn.”
I nodded slowly, thinking. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but, at the same time, there was something about it that felt warm, like Gennadiy was wrapping me up in his arms. I used a jug to pour clean water over a dog’s back, rinsing away the suds. “Gennadiy’s getting worse, isn’t he? More ruthless, more violent? We noticed it even at the FBI.”
Mikhail’s jaw tightened. “He’s angry. He’s been angry for a long time.” He seemed to be about to say something else, but closed his mouth and ruffled a dog’s coat instead, making the shampoo foam.
My cop instincts kicked in. I thought back to what Gennadiy had said when he saw my leg for the first time. “Once, he sort of implied something happened to him. Something that made him all twisted up inside. Is that true?”
Mikhail turned and stared at me, looking shocked...and then impressed. “You really are an FBI agent.Yes,that is true. But it’s a storyhe’llhave to tell you.” Mikhail waggled a dripping finger in the air. “And he won’t want to.”
I nodded silently. Gennadiy could be stubborn.
