Page 75 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

I stare at the message, smiling. Igor sees my expression and sighs. “This is becoming painful to watch.”

I flip him the bird and look down at another incoming text.

Tamara:

We’re leaving now

Thank you for letting me do this my way

I stop smiling. She shouldn’t have to thank me for that.

Me:

This was always yours

The three dots appear, vanish, then return.

Tamara:

I know

But still

The screen goes dark. On my desk, Kalinin’s intelligence sits beside the photograph of the boy he stole from her.

One is keeping our organization intact.

The other is the reason I may have to destroy the alliance that does it.

22

HOSTILE WORK ENVIRONMENT. (TAMARA)

Mikhail has been my project manager for twelve minutes and has already requested a company expense account.

“Your brother said no,” I say, checking the material boards stacked between us in the back of the SUV.

“You didn’t even tell him what I planned to expense.”

“I suppose he knows you well.”

Mikhail lowers his sunglasses enough to look offended over the frames. Charcoal wool coat. Black turtleneck. Hair perfectly disordered in a way that probably requires both product and an unreasonable investment of time.

He doesn’t look like a project manager. He looks like a man who owns the building and is considering whether to seduce the architect.

“Your lack of faith in me is hurtful.”

I turn toward the window before he sees me smile. A second black SUV keeps pace two cars behind us. Two of Aleksander’s men sit in front, dressed like finance executives and watching everything except their phones.

One will remain with the vehicles. The other will enter separately and stay downstairs, drifting between the lobby and service entrance. Mikhail explained the arrangement casually, as if every interior designer travels with a rotating perimeter.

Apparently this is Aleksander’s idea of giving me space.

The irritating part is that his arrangement works. They’re protecting the movement without inserting themselves into the reason for it.

Manhattan passes in cold winter light, the streets still wet from melted snow. My tablet rests against my knees. Floor plans, lighting revisions, stone comparisons.

Familiar objects.