I carry our drinks to the small glass table and set them down, then sit opposite him, leaning back and sighing loudly.
Bardil picks up his glass and takes a massive sip, finishing more than half the drink.
I roll my eyes. He never did figure out how to savor things.
“Well?” he huffs.
Vodka swirls in my glass, the ice floating freely, knocking gently against the sides. My mind is finally at ease, now that I’ve decided it’s time.
It’s time to get revenge against the Abashins. First, they steal my sister, then they attack, and fabric lies about my brother. I kept my word. I didn’t retaliate after the attack. But this… this is different. This is me putting my foot down against a lot of shit that should not have happened.
Bardil is getting impatient. He sits forward, grunting, glaring at me with his brows raised.
A devious smile spreads over my face as I enjoy his frustration for a brief moment before giving in and telling him my decision.
“They took Talia from us. I think it’s time we returned the favor. An eye for an eye, so to speak,” I say slowly.
“A sister for a sister?” The corner of Bardil’s lips curves upward into a dark smile.
I nod.
“Nikita Abashin. I know where she’s going to be tonight.”
“I want to help, I want in,” he snaps, slamming his glass down on the table.
“I knew you’d say that. It’s serendipitous that you’re still here this afternoon because I was going to give you a call in a few minutes anyway.”
Bardil stands up to pour another vodka. “Lay out the plan,” he says.
“Once a month, Nikita goes to the same theater, a place downtown that screens obscure art movies. She’s there tonight. The show starts at seven and ends at nine. After that, she will drive herself to a nearby cocktail bar, have one cocktail, then head home.”
“Will she be alone?”
“Talia and a few other girls go to the show together; some go for cocktails, some don’t.”
I shrug, pulling my phone out of my pocket and checking for messages. I already have a guy sitting outside the theatre. “The important this is that Nikita goes every month, without fail. And tonight, we’re going to be waiting for her when she comes out. Well… you are.”
Bardil’s eyes flare wide. “Me?”
“I figured you’d want front row action for this. It should be an easy snatch-and-grab so you can do it alone. I’ll listen in. You’ll bring her straight to my place afterward.”
“What’s the plan for her?”
“Bind her to me through marriage, then use her as a tool to get what I want out of her brothers.”
This is a marriage born of purpose. Nothing more. There will be no happily-ever-after fairy tale bull shit here.
Bardil’s smile widens. He nods, draining his second glass of vodka.
“Go easy on that, I need you focused,” I huff. “Do you know what the girl looks like?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man, I can handle my vodka. And yes, I know what she looks like. What time do you want me at the theater?”
“Be there by eight. They only come out at nine, but if she leaves early for some reason, I don’t want to miss any opportunities. I want hertonight. I’ve waited long enough.”
“Send me the location, I’m going home to gear up just in case.”
Bardil leaves my office, and I sit quietly finishing my vodka, contemplating the satisfaction of finally having an outlet for all this pent-up anger I’ve built toward the Abashins.
