“I think we already do,” I tell him. My voice is rough. “You don’t trust me to do my job. I’m the one who found Aleksandr. I’m the one who got us information on their next moves.”
“What next moves? They plan on kidnapping me at the charity gala? That’s it? What else are they planning, Tommaso? Did you find out where they’re planting their spies around town or if they plan on sending any personal threats?” he asks me, his voice low and patronizing. He walks around the table again, putting it between us.
“If you’d listen to me for two fuckin’ seconds, you’d know,” I growl at him. I slam my fist down on the table again and lean over it so I can look more directly into his eyes. “The Bianchis aren’t just planning to kidnap you. They’re planning a bombing.”
Carmine’s shoulders straighten and he looks even more curious. “When, where?” he asks.
“Aleksandr isn’t privy to all of the information. He’s trying to get more,” I tell him. “If I keep working with him, I’ll be able to have the information the second he does.”
“Our spies will get the information as well,” Carmine says. “Now that they know what they’re looking for.”
“Oh, please. Fuck you, Carmine,” I say my words through my teeth. “You know just as well as I do that no one is better than someone who has inside intel. Our men will get their information, sure, but it might be days, or weeks, after the fact. I’m not sayin’ to stop trying, or put your guard down. No, I’m telling you to put your guard up and let me do my job, along with Aleksandr.”
I watch as Carmine purses his lips and yanks his gaze away from mine. He’s being stubborn, and surely he knows it.
“I need to talk to Soren about this,” he insists.
“Talk to him all you want, but I’m going to see Aleksandr again. He has what we need,” I tell him and take a step back from the table. “Try and stop me.”
“I won’t,” Carmine agrees. “But I don’t know if I can trust him. I want to meet this Aleksandr.”
“Good, I was hoping you’d say that. I think you two will get along great,” I say with a smirk. “You’re both pains in my ass.”
Carmine rolls his eyes but a crooked smirk pulls up on his face too. “Just do your job.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I smack the table once and then turn to leave the room. Just as I’m leaving, Carmine says one more thing.
“Don’t get yourself killed, Tommy.”
I glance behind my shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”
Inviting Aleksandr to one of our safehouses would usually be my first move, but thanks to the Bianchis planting microphones everywhere, we don’t know which houses are truly safe yet. The crew is still out working to get all of the areas cleared.
So, I text Aleksandr and he tells me to meet him at another one of the Rose safe houses the next day.
After another training session with Nikolas and Beau, watching them sweat their asses off and struggle to lift even a sixth of what I’m capable of, I head to that safe house in one of the older cars that won’t stand out as much.
I know there’s a chance I’m being followed, but I keep a watchful eye out and it seems like I’m in the clear as I step out into the driveway behind Aleksandr’s car.
There are no lights on in the house, which is odd, but when I get to the door, it’s unlocked.
“Aleksandr?” I call out into the darkness. I don’t bother flipping on any of the lights, just in case there’s a reason they’re not on. Instead, I pull out my lighter and flick it until the flame ignites and gives me a low light around my body.
I hear stairs creaking just as I get to a door at the end of the hallway. That door opens and Aleksandr emerges from the basement.
“You better make this quick,” he tells me. “I’m on a job.”
He’s dressed in all black, just like the first time I met him, but he’s holding a bloodied knife in his hand.
“Should I be concerned?” I ask him, glancing down at the knife.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d already have it in your jugular,” he insists.
I close my lighter and stick it in my pocket. “Sure… What’s with the lights, and the knife?” I ask him.
Aleksandr sighs and turns around, motioning me down the stairs and into the basement. I start to hear groaning the further down the stairs I get. My eyes adjust to the dim orange light.
“Like I said, on a job,” Aleksandr tells me again.
