"Any news?" I ask.
I was hoping Mila might get an update since, for some reason, her husband has tagged along on Gabriele's mission.
At first I imagined it was because he has some business of his own with Orlov, but it turns out he just really enjoys killing people.
The only reason Mila didn't go too is that she's pregnant, a fact that isn't particularly obvious even though she's five months along. It seems such a contradiction that this ruthless woman would possess such a maternal instinct.
Each of us hides something beneath the surface, I suppose.
"I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a mob wife." I start to chew on my thumbnail and then stop myself. My last manicure was weeks ago and my nails are already looking rough. "I hate all this sitting around."
"How does your mother cope with it?" Mila asks. "Your father is Bratva, right?"
"My father doesn't do his own dirty work. He sits in his office and issues orders."
"Ugh. My father was the same. It makes you wonder how they ever fought their way to the top."
I know the answer to that. My father didn't. He made money early in life and then placed it in the right hands to ensure his rise to power. As far as I know he's never personally killed anyone.
It's a flaw, for sure. His men are only loyal because he pays them well. They don't respect him and eventually one of them will overthrow him and take his crown. I'm glad I won't be around when that happens. Women always bear the consequences of their men's actions.
At least with Gabriele I don't have to worry about that. Nobody is likely to come for him. Not only because he has two brothers to avenge him but because he has the respect of his soldiers.
"They're assholes, that's for sure."
"Aren't they all?" Mila asks.
"Mine wasn't." Niamh smiles sadly.
"No," Mila agrees. "Patrick was the best. He was more of a father to me than Mikhail Lenkov ever was. Do you know the bastard tried to turn me over to a rogue intelligence officer? British guy, totally obsessed with me."
"You got your revenge," Niamh says wryly. She turns back to me. "This conversation's getting heavy. Tell us something fun."
Something fun. That requires some thought. "Oh, I'm thinking of putting a pool in the garden."
"Oh, where?" If she's faking her interest, Niamh does a good job.
"I don't know. Close to the house, I suppose."
For the next hour, we talk about domestic things. It strikes me as odd to indulge in such pedestrian conversation with two of the most powerful women I will ever meet.
The real surprise comes when Mila reveals her love of baking. Apparently she takes every opportunity she can to create delicious cakes and pastries.
"Does Gabriele still draw?" Niamh asks.
"Draw?" Is that something he does? "I don't think so."
"Pity. He was really good."
"Is that so?" This is obviously news to Mila too.
"Has he shown you his drawings?" I can't help the prickle of jealousy that runs through me at the thought of him sharing something like that with her. Art is personal. You don't show just anyone.
Niamh shakes her head. "No, but I've seen Lorenzo's tattoos."
Mila's eyes widen. "Gabriele did those?"
"According to Lorenzo he did, but Damiano says he just sketched them out. Someone else did the actual inking."
