"Take eight and give him back the rest." I drop my cigarette and crush it under my boot. "We're fair men. We don't steal from our buyers… And make sure he understands what happens if he tries this again."
Vuk counts out the money and shoves the remaining bills back into the buyer's wallet before dropping it on the ground beside him. Then he grabs the man by his collar and hauls him to his feet. The buyer sways and nearly falls, but Vuk holds him uprightwhile striking him a few times in the ribs right where his foot connected a few seconds ago.
"Next time you negotiate after seeing the product, I break your hands," Vuk says. "Understand?"
The buyer nods frantically, and Vuk shoves him toward the mouth of the alley. He stumbles and catches himself against the wall before grabbing the bag and running out into the street. I watch him disappear around the corner and then turn back to Vuk.
I exhale smoke and watch the street while he counts the money for a second time. Violence is supposed to be a last resort, but sometimes it's the most efficient method of communication. People understand pain better than words, sadly.
"Any word on our target?" I ask my right hand. I've known him since the day I arrived here in Serbia, and he's been nothing but loyal once I taught him that I was the new leader of this territory, which didn't take much. He's eager.
"Yeah." Vuk finishes counting and looks up. "Got confirmation he's hiding in that jewelry store on Kralja Petra."
My pulse quickens, but I keep my expression neutral. "How sure are you?" How many times have I heard this? And every time we were so certain, it's been a flop.
"Very." Vuk pulls out his phone and shows me a grainy photo. "My contact saw him go in three days ago, and he hasn't come out since."
I study the photo of a man who looks nothing like the pictures Yuri gave me. But the tattoo on his neck is unmistakable. AndreiLebedev's been hiding in plain sight while I've been chasing ghosts through half of Belgrade.
"Who owns the store?" I pull another cigarette out, offering one to Vuk who refuses it. Then I light it and slip my lighter back into my pocket.
"Old man named Miloš." Vuk puts his phone away. "Does repairs and custom work."
"Is he connected?" I take a long drag while I watch his eyes dart nervously. We don't have the product anymore, but we have all that cash, and the last few times we did a deal like this, we had to run for it. It's good for him to be nervous and keep his eyes on the escape routes.
"Very." Vuk's expression darkens. "He moves information for anyone willing to pay."
That explains how Lebedev has stayed hidden for so long. Men like Miloš don't just sell jewelry and fix watches. They broker deals and hide people and know exactly whom to call when trouble walks through the door. Getting to Lebedev means going through him first, which won't be easy. I'll need time to prepare.
And I'll need time to figure out what to do after that if it falls through. Given Vuk's informant's track record, I think I need that time. That means tonight’s "date" with Danica has to move forward.
"I'll check it out tomorrow," I tell him as we start walking.
"You want backup?" Vuk tucks all the money in his coat pocket and falls into step next to me. "I can meet you there."
"No." I flick some ash and focus on the street at the end of the alley. "I need to see it myself first."
Vuk doesn't argue because he knows better. He just tells me to be careful and disappears back into the shadows with the money that'll be cleaned for us before I pay my men. I stand at the mouth of the alley for another five minutes thinking about the jewelry store and how close I could actually be to finding the man I've been hunting almost seven months now.
Tomorrow, I'll figure out how to get to Lebedev without starting a war, but tonight, I have to manipulate a waitress into marriage. The second task feels harder than the first.
The restaurantI've selected for my evening alone with Danica caters to tourists and wealthy locals. I rented the entire place for the evening and paid the staff triple their normal rate to make everything perfect. I want roses on every table, candles everywhere, and a string quartet set up in the corner ready to play on my signal.
It's excessive and ridiculous, not at all my sort of thing, but I think it's exactly what someone like Danica would expect from a romantic date. She has no idea what's really happening tonight, and by the time she figures it out, it'll be too late to walk away. I've made sure of that.
I arrive fifteen minutes late because punctuality suggests eagerness and I need her to think I'm in control. The staff greets me at the door and leads me through the empty dining room to where Danica is already sitting at a table near the window, waiting for me. She stands when she sees me, and her face lights up with a smile that makes my chest tighten.
She's wearing a blue dress that hits just above her knees and her hair is down around her shoulders. She put on makeup and earrings and she's trying so hard to look ravishing. The effort is both touching and pathetic at the same time. It's so easy sometimes, like taking candy from a baby.
But one thing she isn't is plain. The curve of her cheekbones, the way her tits fill out the bust of the simple dress—it makes my dick hard. She may not be dressed in eveningwear, but she's leagues above normal. That stained uniform and apron do not do her justice at all. Danica is perfectly pluckable, like apples on the low branch of a tree waiting to be eaten by predators like me.
"Hi," she says when I reach the table. Her hand wiggles in a faint wave, and she smiles nervously. Her cheeks are pinked, and I see goosebumps on her arms. She sweeps her eyes down over my black suit and coiffed hair and looks embarrassed.
"Hello," I whisper in her ear softly, then pull out her chair and wait for her to sit before taking my own seat. "You look beautiful."
Her cheeks flush a darker pink and she tucks hair behind her ear. "Thank you."
The waiter appears with wine and pours two glasses before disappearing again. Danica looks around the empty restaurant with wide eyes, and I can see her trying to figure out why no one else is here. She's smart enough to know this isn't normal but not experienced enough to understand what it means.
