“But it wasn’t Kirill in charge then.”
“In Peter’s eyes, a bratva is viewed as the sum of its parts, and I agree with him. If you ask me, Peter was hoping to install Viktor as part of the Zahkarov bratva, hoping to gain a semblance of control. Wishful thinking on his part because Kirill is a cold son of a bitch and no one’s puppet. He’d blow up his bratva to pieces before handing it over to Moscow.”
“You think so?” I asked. Even my uncle thought Kirill was the type who would destroy something rather than relinquish it. I’d gotten in over my head. My brother’s voice came back to haunt me.
You keep on skating into shit expecting me to fix it.
Not this time.I pinched my shoulder blades together.
I must have shown my thoughts on my face because Luca looked at me strangely.
Uh-oh.
He narrowed his eyes, and his lips curled back in restrained fury. “Did that motherfucker hurt you?”
“No!” I said emphatically, and I might have overcompensated because he was still looking at me suspiciously.
“The events don’t line up with where we left off last night. You were following Davenport into the club.”
“Viktor wasn’t there, so he went home. I heard this morning that he OD’d.”
“And in the meantime, Viktor had a shootout with state troopers, and he and two of his men were killed.”
“They found cocaine and illegal weapons in his trunk, I think.”
“What happened to your phone?” Luca walked to the French doors and stared outside. There was nothing to stare at except Upper East Side buildings and trees.
“I lost it. I must have dropped it at the club. It was a Friday night and packed. I barely caught up with Davenport.”
“Hmm…”
The humming sound from my uncle wasn’t a good sign, nor was the set of his shoulders. When he turned around, there wasn’t a trace of the concern I’d seen earlier. I stepped back. This was his boss face. It reminded me of Kirill’s bland look. “Try again, cara, and this time, don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying!” I snapped. “And don’t try that interrogation crap on me.”
“I hardly asked you any questions.”
My hand shook and I lowered my coffee before I spilled it. This was the full force of Luca’s don face. I crossed my arms to keep myself steady. “Since you don’t believe me, why don’t you tell me what you think happened?”
My uncle promptly launched into his conjecture. “Viktor killed Davenport, and since you were with him, he took you hostage but didn’t kill you. He destroyed your phone. He was still deciding what to do with you and Davenport’s body. Asked Kirill for help. In the meantime, state troopers stopped the car. Viktor, being trigger-happy and because he didn’t want to get arrested, shot and killed the state troopers. Now you’re a witness to the killing of law enforcement. I don’t know what was going on in Kirill’s mind because, from what I heard, he always wanted you dead. It was Kirill who killed Viktor and his men or he gave the order. But having a dead Davenport in Viktor’s car would raise more questions than simply ratcheting it down to a simple illegal weapons and drug stop. So Kirill moved Davenport’s body.”
“And you think his wife would simply go along with this?” I asked incredulously. Of course I was curious, but I chalked it up to mafia intimidation for now.
Luca gave a brief derisive laugh. “I forget you don’t know Anya Davenport. She and Kirill grew up together in Russia.”
“Were…were they lovers?” I asked.
“Hmm…” And I could actually see the conclusion forming on his face.
“What?” I pressed.
“Now that Davenport’s dead, Kirill doesn’t want the suspicion to fall on him and Anya for plotting her husband’s demise, so he’s using you as a distraction. Have a fake relationship with you until a decent amount of time has passed before riding off into the sunset with the bonus of Davenport’s fortune.”
Oh, that motherfucking, wily bastard. He didn’t waste time scheming. Before I incriminated myself by accepting my uncle’s theory, I gave a careless shoulder shrug. “That’s an interesting story, but that’s not what happened.”
“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” Oh, Luca knew I was bullshitting, but his face wasn’t as severe anymore. In fact, it gentled, and the tender concern returned to his eyes. He sighed. “That’s all right, Lucia. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Awww…”
