“She sounds like an amazing woman. My dad was awful.”
“Aren’t all dads?” I laugh weakly. “You had a bad dad, too?” he asks me.
“Kind of, but it’s fine now. Your mom was probably an angel.”
“She was. Thank you for asking, Lana.” He is being sweet and vulnerable, which is probably rare.
“Of course, what was her name?”
“Ajla, and it’s so funny because last Thursday was her birthday.”
“That’s so bittersweet. I’ll say a little prayer for her when I get home.”
“I didn’t know you were religious.” I have to play this one off, I can’t let him get to know me fully.
“No, it’s something I do to feel like I’m burdening someone else with my pain.”
“That’s a nice sentiment, Lana. What do you say? Shall we head out?”
“Yes! Because I also have my morning shift at the diner.”
“I’ll drop you off. And don’t worry about clothes. There is a whole drawer in my guest bedroom with clothes I thought you would love.” Money can’t buy you happiness, but it can for sure buy you things. I get up from my chair and head toward the bathroom to prepare myself for work.
After twenty minutes, I head toward M, and I notice he is wearing a black suit. Ready to take on the business world. We get into his car and park near the diner where Hell can resume.
“I’ll see you tonight, little hummingbird.” He kisses me softly on the lips, and I return it. I begin my shift, but I am too giddy for tonight to concentrate.
24
MAfter the last couple of fires, it became apparent that I needed to take a closer look at my car dealerships. The person who is targeting my dealerships is making this personal. While I do makea lotof money from assassinating people, my car dealerships also bring in a lot of that sweet cash.
I have Oliver and Josh overseeing my dealership in Sarajevo today while I am conducting business in Tuzla.
Winter has a way of making Tuzla breathtaking. The city has a glow in wintertime—its hills dressed in white, the salt lakes catching the faintest shimmer of light. Chimneys smoked lazily, curling into the cold air. It isn’t a postcard kind of beauty—it’s lived-in, scarred, and still standing. And that’s the reason why I love this city. Because it reminds me of my mom. She was strength hidden beneath softness, of warmth in the middle of the cold.
And this was her hometown.
My mom came from a wealthy family. Her dad was the general manager of a coal-mining business, and that’s how she met my father. Daddy dearest came here on business to assassinate someone and saw my mom in a bar while he was winding down. What I understood from my mom’s explanation was that my father was mesmerizing, and she became blind. He promised her the world but gave her Hell.
The only thing that kept her going all these years was me.
And I miss her dearly. I wonder if she would be proud of me because I became something shedespised.
“M, are you good?” Adam asks me as we are drinking coffee in the center of Tuzla. The smell of Bosnian coffee seeps into my nostrils, and I revel in it. There is truly nothing like Bosnian coffee. And it will keep you awake for five business days.
“I am. At what time is our meeting with those cunts from Good Buildings?”
“We have to leave in about ten minutes. Our meeting is in about thirty minutes.” I pay our bill, and we head out to Good Buildings on foot. I like to walk in Tuzla during wintertime; it clears my head. But our walk is to said cunts. I want to buy property just outside of Tuzla to build another dealership, but those assholes are playing hard to get. Good Buildings owns almost all of the commercial properties in Tuzla, and they are playing their “we are gods” card.
Ugh.
“Are you nervous?” Adam asks. When I look at him, we both start laughing.
“No. They should be.”
“M, we can’t have another debacle like with the last person who tried to blackmail you.” Ah, yes. The man who lost all of his fingers.
“It’s going to be fine as long as they don’t try to fuck me over.”
