Page 98 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

Mikhail smiles faintly. “There he is.”

“Increase coverage on Anna and the boy,” I say to Yuri. “No closer than we already are. No new faces near the school. No pressure. I don’t want Kalinin noticing the air changed.”

“Understood.”

Tamara reaches for the envelope on the desk. Her fingers stop just before touching it.

I notice.

So does she.

For one moment, neither of us moves. Then she takes it.

“He called it encouragement.”

Mikhail’s expression goes flat.

“Go,” I say, looking at him briefly. “Now.”

He says nothing. Neither does Yuri. They leave the study together, closing the door behind them.

Tamara looks down at the envelope in her hand.

“He thinks he handed me hope.”

“He handed you proof of surveillance.”

“I know.”

Her voice is steady. It should not be. I cross to the sideboard and pour water into a glass. Not vodka. Not anything that would make the moment easier.

She accepts it but doesn’t drink.

“I keep thinking I should feel something in the correct order,” she says.

“There is no correct order.”

“That sounds like something people say when they don’t know what else to say.”

“It is.”

Her mouth moves almost imperceptibly. She takes a sip.

“I hate him.”

“Yes.”

“I hate you too, a little.”

“I know.”

“More than a little.”

“I know that too.”

She sets the glass on the desk.

“And I hate that when you texted come home, I wanted to.”