“Do you think Samson has something to do with you getting shot?” I finally manage to say.
Matvei looks at me. “Don’t you?”
My sigh is the only answer he needs. I cross the kitchen to the table and pick up my phone. I unlock it, and hand it to Matvei.
"What is this?" he asks, peering at the image on the screen.
"I was looking for something in Samson's office a while back. Probably a pen, I don't remember exactly what. Anyway, I founda false bottom under one of the drawers, and I was too curious not to look inside. That's what I found."
"Why did you take a picture?" he asks without looking up, still puzzling out the image.
"I'm a lawyer. I know the secrets kept in the false bottom of a drawer are never anything good. Plus, I guess a part of me was starting to realize Samson was bad news, even if I wanted to ignore it." My gaze drops to my toe and the invisible pattern I'm tracing over the decorative tile in a repeated, nervous pattern.
"If there’s one thing Samson’s good at, it's pretending to be everything he isn't."
When I look up, I'm surprised to find Matvei watching me with something akin to empathy or at least understanding. He and I haven't talked about the past much. Our conversations have been about ensuring our baby and I stay safe. I haven’t told him much beyond what I shared about Samson in Prague.
Matvei stands up straight, wincing again. I bite my tongue and pour two cups of coffee, following him as he pads out of the room.
"My brother has spent many years perfecting the mask he wears to cover his anger and dangerous cunning. He's clever, but the thing he truly lacks is the actual intelligence to become what he mimics."
"Yeah, I get that now." I sigh. "He’s become really good at it. He certainly seems to have Genevieve Mancini fooled."
"Maybe so, but I have no doubt she's using him as much as he's using her."
I'm not so sure. Genevieve seems simple to me, but that opinion is quickly abolished with Matvei’s next words.
"Genevieve Mancini isn't nearly as innocent or ditzy as she would have others believe." The grin Matvei flashes me over his shoulder as he opens the door to his office is knowing.
"What do you mean?"
"Genevieve and I casually dated for a short time," he says as he sets my phone on his desk and sinks into the chair, gesturing for me to pull one over as he opens his laptop.
When were you going to tell me?I nearly demand, but again, realize I have no leg to stand on when it comes to his romantic past.
"Oh?" I reply instead, trying to sound as disinterested as possible even though my heart has picked up its pace in the last few seconds.
"It was nothing," Matvei says as he types away at his computer. "A few social events, nothing more. We never went out to dinner or spent time alone. It was a fleeting thought of mine to try to get to the Mancini’s through her, but I soon realized she was far too greedy and power-hungry for my taste."
What is your taste in women?Another question that is unasked. I watch as he continues to type and click. Finally, something pops up that causes him to smile in triumph.
"What's all that?"
"His suppliers, where he keeps his materials, the people he's blackmailed, and his offshore accounts."
I lean over his shoulder, trying to figure out what I'm looking at. It appears to be some sort of spreadsheet with multiple tabs. "You got all of this from that one picture I showed you? All I saw were a bunch of random numbers and letters."
"The one thing Samson learned from our father—his own, personal code. Even I don't use it."
"Shit," I breathe. "I knew it had to be something important."
"This changes everything," he says. I've never seen Matvei so animated, moving from tab to tab, his eyes glued to the screen. "I'll have to redesign my strategy because this makes it clear he's after both of us."
Matvei's words ricochet in my head for a moment before I manage a reply. "Both of us?"
"Of course."
"I know Samson's a jerk, but he can't be the one coming after me. He's been trying to get me back."
