"Oh, damn, girl!" Tessa practically yells. "I can't wait to wrap up this case so we can just cruise around in that car. You've gotten a stroke of luck, girl. Wait. He's not asking for anything in return, is he?"
"What he's asking for is me helping him on a property case. And there's no murder involved. So, I believe, you know, it's safe." Tessa says carefully, "Well, trust your gut instincts. They're never wrong. If you think anything is going in a strange way, just dip. You don't have to stay."
"I do hope I don't have to," I say. "I mean, he doesn't ask for much in return. Though... I did just punch him in the face." Silence.
Then she says, "You what? You punched your benefactor in the face? Look, I may be your friend, but that is just ungrateful."
"Just calm down!" I say quickly. "I had good reason for punching him in the face. This man put a flower behind my ear and then proceeded to kiss the side of my mouth. Not only did he do that, but when I was concerned about him, trying to check if he was alright, he proceeded to pull me in and start kissing me again. So, I punched him again."
Tessa pauses. "You know what? You're right. He needs to learn how to keep his mouth to himself. I would have punched him twice too. Hell, I would've kicked him in the balls. But just make sure you be very careful around him. From what I hear, you know, he's a big deal in Russia. Okay? He's a very powerful Russian mobster. You should be careful with how you deal with men with those kinds of influence. If not... let me just say it's not gonna be good for both of us. And I already know our futures. I see myself in that dumpster. I might not like the smell, but I see myself there, girl. So, we gotta prepare to go to the afterlife. ButI do see us in heaven. You know? The rest of them can go to hell. When I die, I see myself in heaven."
"Amen, sister."
"Anyways, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Okay? Oh, and wire me that money. Like, two thousand."
I nod even though she can't see me. "Alright. I'll send it now. Just get a hotel. Okay? You and the rest of the NGO girls."
"Alright. Thank you. Bye."
"Bye."
I hang up, shake my head, and go back to the files.
Chapter 11
?
IRIS
It's been about two days since the incident, and I'm doing my best to avoid him.
No late-night conversations, no eye contact if I can help it. He hasn't tried anything again, not even a simple "good morning," but the flowers keep coming anyway. Bouquets of every kind arrive at my door every morning like clockwork, with notes telling me how beautiful I look.
A small part of me hates that I appreciate the gesture. Another part of me, maybe the honest part, feels guilty. I punched him. Twice, sure he definitely deserved it but maybe I should cut him some slack.
So tonight, I decide I'm going to make it up to him. In my own way. I'm not about to apologize with words, but maybe a hot meal will smooth out the tension between us. At least enough to make things less awkward.
I roll up my sleeves and head to the kitchen. Time to cook.
• • •
“Tsar,” I’m halfway through crimping the edges of the chicken pot pie when a soft, feminine voice calls from behind me. I turn brushing the flour from my hands and look toward the kitchen entrance.
The kitchen stretches wide, a vast marble island sits in the centre, gleaming beneath the soft LED lights overhead. Stainlesssteel appliances line the perimeter, and a tall, brushed steel fridge stands like a sentinel near the far wall.
The door behind me, slightly ajar, clicks softly as she enters. She’s tall, her jet-black hair twisted into a sleek bun. Beneath the long coat, she wears a short red dress, black tights, and pointed heels. As her eyes rake over me, unimpressed, I suddenly feel self-conscious—my forest green tank top and jean shorts suddenly too casual.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, her tone neither friendly nor hostile. "Who are you?"
I straighten, forcing calm into my voice even though my heart just kicked up a notch. "I could ask you the same thing." Her gaze rakes over me slowly.
"This is my brother's estate, and you don't look like one of the staff."
Brother. Realization dawns on me. "I'm working with Ilay on a case," I say carefully, measuring each word.
She smiles, but the expression doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm Natalya. His sister." Natalya arches a brow and tilts her head slightly, studying me with renewed interest.
"So, you're the lawyer he's been raving about. The one he's been chasing through the streets of Moscow, no less."
