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“The Fallen?” Daniil scowled. “What’s a Mafia wife got to do with them?”

“Why is a Bratva soldier taking things into his own hands and ransoming the capo dei capi’s wife?” I countered coolly. “Sometimes, we find ourselves making strange bedfellows.”

His English wasn’t good enough to really understand me, but his interest had obviously been hooked by mention of The Fallen. They were an international organization that was absolutely not to be fucked with, and they certainly had the money to pay Daniil and his thugs the money they wanted.

“Give me his detail,” he demanded.

So I did.

I knew at this point, Hank would be looking for me anyway. Probably alongside the rest of his crew and Booker, Akira, Elijah, and Finn. Even Lily might have been involved, if she was concerned that I had stood her up for our weekly shopping trip yesterday.

The Fallen would pay my ransom, even if it was only to have the Outfit owe them a favor. Those didn’t come cheap or often, and they’d champ at the bit to hold something over Dario.

I’d find my own way to pay them back, though.

If it came to that.

After Daniil left to make inroads with The Fallen, I fell into a fitful sleep, too hungry, cold, and uncomfortable to manage the rest I really needed. My head and neck ached from the blow I’d taken, and even the meager sleep I got did little to alleviate the pain.

But I was grateful for my wakefulness when the door to my room creaked open and Afansay entered.

He was an ugly man, florid features swollen into folds that made his black eyes seem small and his yellow teeth more pronounced. But it was his expression, avaricious and cruel, that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I had not been alone with him before, and I knew instinctively I did not want to be now.

“You must have heard what Daniil was planning.” I was surprised my voice didn’t shake as I affected a casual pose leaning up on one arm.

Even if I managed to untie my hands, there was nothing to use as a weapon in the room except for the plastic spoon I had managed to break off into jagged edges and shove under my pillow. It wouldn’t do much in the way of damage, but it was something at least. Especially if I could get it in an eye.

“What are you talking about?” Afansay demanded, rocking back a little like my words were a physical blow.

“How he’s shopping me around to other organizations,” I said slowly, as if he was dense. “He’s trying to get more ransom money and keep the majority of it for himself. Petyr figured it out while he was giving me dinner last night. I thought he must have told you.”

The Russian glowered so fiercely, I couldn’t see his eyes, only the muscle ticking in his jaw and the escalation of his flush from pink to vermillion.

“Daniil is comrade, he would not do this.”

“He wouldn’t?” I asked. “Isn’t the money the reason he convinced you to act against the Pakhan in the first place? He must be desperate.”

It was a gamble, because I had no idea if they were truly acting without the Pakhan’s knowledge, but I had to assume the Bratva boss wouldn’t be so stupid as to kidnap Dario Ferretti’s wife.

Afansay looked to the floor, and I knew I was right.

“He must need the money more than you,” I offered sympathetically. “Petyr said he would feel entitled to it because he was the one who organized the kidnapping anyway.”

“Like hell he did!” Afansay shouted, slamming his hand against the door so it banged off the wall and back into his shoulder. “The ungrateful mudak. If anyone deserves more money, it is me.” He thumped his fist to his chest. “I am one who took big risk. Pakhan trusts me. He almost gives me promotion.”

“And now it’s all at risk because of Daniil’s greed,” I consoled with a wince. “I’m sorry, Afansay.”

The Russian spat out a string of curses, fists curled, body humming with suppressed rage. I worried he would take it out on me, but then he seemed to reach a decision, slamming the door shut on my room as he stormed out.

But, I noticed as my heart rate escalated, he did not lock the door.

My hands were still tied behind my back, but I could maneuver a little off balance if it meant getting out of there.

Wherever there was.

I stood up, bending to grab the spoon from underneath my pillow and tuck it in my waistband, and went to the door, listening for a moment before I slowly nudged it open. The creak was slight but echoed in the empty corridor filled with open doors to other empty rooms. It seemed like the building had once been shoddy apartments, but everything had been left to decay over time. The smell was pungent, damp, and moldy, but I ignored the wet, slimy patches on the floor in my bare feet and tiptoed as quickly as I could down the hall.