There’s another frown from Dmitri.
“Absolutely. Let me talk to D- uh, the detective and I’ll see when we can meet,” I say.
“Okay. Can I call you on this phone?”
“It’s the detective’s but he won’t mind, I don’t think. I’ll get a new phone tomorrow,” I promise. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she says warmly. “It’s weird, though… You said you were at Dr. Morozova’s private clinic, like a boutique kind of place?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Priya says. “That’s unusual. Not to spread gossip, but there were rumors that her husband Maksim - met him just once when he was with her at a convention, he’s a scary bastard - is in organized crime.”
A shadow falls over me, it’s Dmitri, coldly circling his finger in the ‘wrap it up’ motion.
“Talk to you soon, Priya,” I promise, staring at his glacial blue glare.
Chapter Eleven
In which the cat is out of the Bratva-shaped bag.
Ava…
Hanging up, I cautiously hand the phone back to Dmitri. He looks like his temperature just dropped twenty degrees, polar waves radiating off his body. Not scary, exactly, but like he’s compartmentalizing that former warmth between us to let this new icy chill take over.
"First," Dmitri says, "tell me about Heaven and Hell."
"You know it?” I ask. “The bougie nightclub downtown?”
A slight smile flits across his perfectly shaped lips. “Yes I know it. Did you say that your ex tried to trap you there?"
“Yeah, a couple of weeks ago,” I say. “He got one of the nurses in Cardiology to invite me to her birthday party - may all her hair fall out and she never grow eyelashes again - and when I showed up, it was just him in this private room. He was trying to force me to stay there so he could excuse his cheating on me. Again. For the twenty-seventh time, as if that was going to change anything."
“That prick,” Dmitri growls. “That club usually has excellent security."
“Oh, they did,” I assure him. “A guy came up to me and asked me if I was okay. He told me he was an owner. He even called for an Uber to take me home.”
He tapped my bedside table. “That’s strike two for thatchertov,theidiot.”
“Your turn,” I say, my heart thudding oddly. “What did Priya mean about Dr. Morozova’s husband being involved in organized crime?” Then, my painfully simple-minded brain makes the connection. “That would be your father, wouldn't it?” My head's getting that floaty feeling again like the string it's tied to might be snapping loose from my body. “You're not a detective, are you?” I say numbly.
“I told you the truth when I said we were investigating this crime,” Dmitri says calmly, like he's trying to talk me off a ledge. “We have resources that the NYPD doesn't.”
Dimly, I can hear my heart monitor speeding up again. “So essentially, I was rescued from one criminal gang by another?” A hysterical giggle leaves me, completely inappropriate for the occasion. My hand reaches out and grabs his shirt. It's nice. A good starched cotton one. “What are you planning to do with me, Dmitri? My friend knows where I am. Oh, god, don't hurt her!”
“We're not going to hurt your friend,” he says patiently, gently prying my hand off his shirt sleeve and holding it in his. I try to pull away, but he won't let me. “I have no intention of hurting you, Ava. No matter what your friend may have heard about my family, my father is on the board of directors for three international human trafficking charities. This is something we do not allow and whenever we find it, we attempt to crush it immediately. What happened to you should never happen to anyone else, agreed?”
“You’re railroading me here,” I say. “Of course I don’t want it to happen to anyone else. If you’re in a crime family, though… it’s hard to believe you’re jumping in here, turning into a crime fighter.”
He hesitates, studying me as if trying to decide how much to tell me before I completely lose my shit.
“Areyoua criminal?” I ask. The question comes out in an unattractive croak. “You say you don't do ‘this,’ the trafficking thing, but you've been lying to me since you brought me here.”
“I haven't been lying to you,” he says patiently. “Everything we've done is to try to help you. You need to understand the gravity here,Malen'kaya soroka.To these people, you are a loose end. You got out. For the human traffickers, this is bad. They will want to keep you quiet by any means necessary. Other than a few people under our payroll, I can’t tell you who they might have in the NYPD. Or the FBI.”
“What doesMalen'kaya sorokamean?”
Fuck, Ava! Focus!
