“Money, Ivy. Money is the answer to everything.”
It’s surreal to think a secret organization keeps the Mafia world in check, but on some level, it makes sense. If I went out intothe street and told someone the Mafia was alive and well, they’d laugh in my face. No one really believes organized crime is a thing anymore, and that kind of secrecy surely allows every hardened criminal to make an insane amount of money.
“But what about me?” I look at Ruslan. “What does any of this have to do with me? My family isn’t part of any organized crime. My dad definitely didn’t deserve to—” My throat closes and I bite my lip to control the sudden surge of grief inside me.
“When I heard about the crash, I was sent to take care of you.”
My eyes widen. “You mean kill me?”
He nods just once. “To everyone, you were the key. A spy. I was to find out which family betrayed the deal and then deal with you. But the more I learned, the more I realized something was off.”
My eyes narrow. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’ve listened to you tell me constantly that you know nothing and that your family isn’t involved, but I know that’s not true.”
My heart starts to pound. “It is true!”
“You believe it’s true, Ivy. But it’s not.” He turns away and digs back into his pocket, then pulls out a photograph and hands it to me.
For a moment, the light shines on the picture and blocks out every detail, so I tilt it, and pain lances through my heart.
The picture shows my father shaking hands with a strange man. “I don’t understand. What is this?”
Ruslan leans over the picture and points to the stranger. “That is Kraven Sidorov. He is the RussianPakhanof the Sidorov crime family.”
“What?” My heart beats so fast that my head starts to throb and an odd weightlessness sweeps through me as if I’m falling. My voice comes out hoarse and almost unrecognizable to my own ears. “What does this mean?”
“I don’t know,” Ruslan replies. “I believe you when you say you know nothing. But I also believe that you know something and you don’t realize it yet. The Sidorov family supplied the drugs destroyed in that plane crash, so you can see that this doesn’t look good.”
“My dad was a banker,” I croak. “This makes no sense.”
“I know. But we’ll find out the truth. I promise.”
I’m so busy staring at the photo until my eyes blur that I don’t realize Ruslan has placed some other items in front of me on the bed. Lifting my watery eyes, I spot my phone, my wallet (slightly scorched at the edges) and a silver pendant with an amber stone encased in white gold.
“You have this?” Abandoning the photo, I snatch up the necklace.
“Is it important?”
I nod and my fingers tremble and ache as I fight with the clasp. “My mom gave this to me for my eighteenth birthday. I thought I’d lost it in the crash! I can’t believe—” I falter as Ruslan’s warm, bruised hands close over mine.
Taking the necklace from me, he swiftly undoes the clasp and then loops the necklace around my neck. He leans so close thatmy lungs flood with that spicy warmth once again and my throat runs dry. Ruslan secures the clasp at the back of my neck and leans away from me.
“We got your personal effects from the hospital,” he says. “I just wanted to make sure I could trust you before I gave them to you.”
Picking up my phone, the screen lights up to show it’s fully charged and I’ve missed an eyewatering amount of calls from my best friend, Moira. And more calls from unknown numbers than I care to count.
“Aren’t you worried I’ll use this to report what you told me to the world?” My eyes meet his. “About the Mafia and your little secret group?”
“The fact that you call it a secret group tells me I don’t need to worry.” Ruslan snorts. “But I know you won’t say a thing.”
“How do you know?”
He stands and saunters toward the ensuite. “Because you want to find who did this to your parents. And that kind of determination secures my secret.”
“Are you leaving?” That question rises up like a surge of panic as if it’s the most important thing I should be asking right now.
“Showering,” he says as he removes his T-shirt. “I’ll be right through this door.”
