“By the way, I handled Dubrov.”
“Dubrov?”
“Yuri Dubrov. Brother of Vlad—the man yourDonnamurdered.” He frowned at my blank-eyed stare. “He was conspiring with the Bratva. He’s the reason that your Donna’s mother was back in the city. He knew which pressure points to push and, apparently, he didn’t like me playing friendly with the people who killed his brother.”
“Gésu. He broke cover to avenge his brother?”
“Seems like it. He was in deep too. Highly trusted. So thank you for the scoop. He won’t be a problem anymore. I apologize for failing to spot the rat in my nest.
“As far as we’ve been able to uncover, he conferred with the Albanians, passing along intel from the brotherhood.”
“He played both sides?”
“No. He was Bratva. He spied on us.”
“Betrayal is happening too often in too many of our organizations,” was all I said.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“He broke under questioning?”
“Something broke, that’s for sure.” Dark humor gleamed in the bastard’s eyes but it slowly faded. “I can see we’re running on similar trains of thought.”
“Could the Bratva be backing the Albanians entirely?”
“Perhaps. It’d explain why they were cooperating with one another in Nolita. You’ve handled more of them than me. Have any suggested the ties to the Bratva run deeper?”
“If they did, you’d have heard about it at that damn table.”
Exasperated by how many questions we had and how few answers, I ran a hand through my hair.
Torturing foot soldiers was getting us nowhere and as much as I despised the Favaros, they hadn’t cracked under torture. C-L-O had only broken their minds, not the seal on their secrets. Even Cosimo—it was like he’d willed that heart attack on himself, goddammit.
“I’ll update you if we hear anything during interrogations.”
“Likewise.”
With that, and the slightest of nods, we parted.
“What did he want?” Rory demanded the second we were out of the warehouse.
Knowing what reaction I’d get if I even mentioned Sofia Voronova, never mind my hand in keeping the Krestniy Otets’s daughter alive, I told her part of the truth. “Vlad Dubrov’s brother was working with the Bratva and the Albanians.”
Luc stiffened. “They brought Diana here?”
“Yes. Oh, and he asked about the Spring Leave Ball, Luc,” I joked.
“God help me.”
I hid a smirk.
Ever since Jen had killed her mother’s pimp, Luc had been shepherding Lyanov around various high-society events as an apology.
It was like the mafia version ofPygmalion.
“Yes, how goes My FairShukher?” I hooted when Rory hummed “I Could Have Danced All Night.” “You need to tell him to stop showing off. It makes him look cheap.”
Initially, the deal had been struck when Lyanov had opened up the Bratva safety deposit boxes so we could scour them for our missing Anjou rubies. Then, with no luck on that front, Luciu had picked out an empress’s set of diamonds for Jennifer and they’d hashed out an alternative agreement.
