Antonio Caserta, where the hell do I know that name from?
But my thoughts scatter when the host of this party makes his appearance, and taking Roxanne's hand, we head toward him.
"Rodik, as usual, your parties are the only ones where I don't fall asleep in the first five minutes," I tell him, watching his chest puff up slightly.
For someone forty years old, you'd think he'd know how to distinguish this cheap flattery from truth, but his pride works well in my favor.
"Mrs. Kaminski," he addresses Roxanne, and I feel like I'm the one puffing up now.
Because my name fits her perfectly, and the way her back stays straight, her chin slightly raised—damn...I won't make it home.
"Delighted," replies the woman who's going to make me pull her into the first office I find. "I love what you chose for the band and the pastries," she tells him because obviously she's figured out that praise is this man's Achilles' heel.
I swear Rodik blushes a little and just nods contentedly.
"I read last month's reports, and I'm surprised," says the man whose vote I need to win.
"How so?"
"A twelve percent increase in sales, and that idea with the paintings, genius move," he tells me, and I can't avoid the satisfaction flowing through my veins.
Because this isn't flattery, it's reality. Since I convinced the Council to join Roman in art smuggling, our revenues have grown substantially. Especially since we have people in Poland who facilitate transport through countries like Bulgaria, Serbia, and Romania.
"I told you to trust me," I say, and Roxanne squeezes my forearm gently.
Rodik's eyes study me for a few seconds.
"I've always thought you were too impulsive, Damien, but it was understandable. You were the youngest leader of the organization, and even though I don't always agree with your less...elegant methods, I can accept that they bear fruit. And as long as I can afford the caviar on my table and my wife can buy her favorite diamonds, my vote will go to you. But you should know that Poland is a powder keg and Marzena is bringing the fire closer and closer."
I know that. Vasili informed me that another of our informants was found dead. Except Marzena isn't officially part of the organization. She doesn't have a seat on the Council, but she has files with information. Information that many Council members would want buried, and that's why no one would authorize a direct attack on her. Because my dear mother surely has mechanisms left in place for the eventuality that someone gets ideas about taking her out of the equation.
I have to wait for her to come to me. I have to draw her out of that country where she pulls all the strings.
"I appreciate the honesty, Rodik," I reply.
Another Council member calls him away for a discussion, and I take Roxanne onto the dance floor.
In the background, "I (Who Have Nothing)" by Tom Jones plays, and I press my cheek against hers.
"While I appreciate the moments when that mouth of yours stays quiet, you're scaring me. You're too silent," she whispers and turns to kiss my cheek.
I'm silent because, at any moment, I feel like something's going to blow. And I'm terrified by the idea that I don't have enough hands to protect her. What if I don't reach her in time? What if we don't find that bastard in time and more women die?
"I'm scared," I confess. "I'm scared I'll miss some detail, I'm scared my mind will fail me when you might need me."
What if I can't see everything clearly because my mind is polluted by years of rage episodes?
I promised I'd keep her safe, but all this time Luna has been in danger, a woman was decapitated, a man was hung from a factory ceiling, and several of my informants ended up floating in Lake Michigan.
"Hey, I'm right here. And I'm fine. Luna is fine. I'm fine," she repeats, but suddenly I feel exhausted.
After we finish the dance, I still have to greet a few members, and my body is permanently on alert, as if I'm expecting knives and grenades to rain from the sky.
My hand instinctively goes to the knife in my jacket pocket, and I breathe when I feel the cold blade on my fingers.
When I know we can leave, I sigh with relief the moment I get in the car with Roxanne, Vasili, and Stefan.
I need to sleep. I need to pull myself together because this anxiety isn't helping.
