“Are you planning on killing him?”
“Isn’t that what we both want, Ms. Farnassi?”
“I—”
Isn’t it? I’d be a liar if I tell Nico that Idon’twant Slava Romanov dead. But there’s another part of me—maybe a simple and naïve part—that wants him to be more than dead.
I want him to facejustice. And justice can’t be served by an assassin’s bullet. The only thing that can serve him justice is for him to face the crime of what he’s done to me. Then, and only then, can he have my permission to die.
“I need him to do more than just die, Nico. I want him to face justice.”
The silence is longer this time, and I almost check my phone to make sure that it hadn’t disconnected.
“And what do you think death is?”
“No, death is vengeance. Justice is having the world see him for what he is.”
Nico chuckles. “I can help with that.”
Hope suddenly blooms in my heart and I stand up out of bed. “How?”
“You tell me about his schedule and public appearances, and I’ll do my part to make the world see him for what he really is by showing the world exactly the kind of people he dealswith on a regular basis. Not donors, not artists, not his bullshit philanthropy.”
“Criminals,” I finish.
“Exactly.”
The gears start turning in my head. Yes… this could work. If I can somehow organize it so that criminals like Nico D’Ambrosio start appearing at Slava’s public events. Then, I’ll let Slava’s own feuds with his rivals set the gossip mill aflame with rumors.
And then I can workmymagic, and fan the flames while still playing the part of his obedient little mouthpiece.
"There's a fundraiser gala next week," I hear myself say. "For Arkadi Milerovo’s mayoral campaign."
"Tell me more."
"Doors open at nine PM. It’s technically public in case any unexpected donors want to show up last minute. Slava will be there front and center."
I can practically hear Nico smiling on the other end.
"Perfect.”
"Wait," I blurt out. "Just promise me that it won’t turn into another Bellamy gallery. Promise me that you’ll only show up to get people asking questions. Nothing more.”
"Nothing will happen that isn't intended to happen."
"That's not reassuring."
He laughs. "What's wrong, Ms. Farnassi? Isn't this what you wanted?"
Yes. This is what I wanted. But then again, I don’t want to be responsible for another violent shoot-out. I don’t want to be the reason innocent people are sent to their deaths.
"I'm just concerned about collateral damage," I try. "If something goes wrong?—"
"They won’t."
"How do you know?"
"You don’t, Ms. Farnassi." His voice hardens. "You’ll just have to trust me."
