"That would be awesome."
"Oh!" Becca put in, giggling at me, and I realized what I'd said. "So it's all decided then, you're going to be one of us?"
I bit my lip. "I guess so. You're right about Valentin, all of you. I never thought men like him really existed, and then there he was sweeping me off my feet. I thought all of this Bratva business would be too much, but I can see how loyal everyone is to it, and what it means to them all."
"Mia you're going to be the next Bratva Queen, you know that right? Valentin is going to be the boss of all bosses."
I shrugged, setting my coffee down on the low glass table in front of me. "From where I'm sitting, he already is."
And now I knew that this was about more than money and power. Seeing these women and watching Valentin interact with them and their husbands, I knew now that what was really at the core was family.
And that was something I wanted to be a part of.
There was a knock at the door of the hotel suite, and I got up to go and answer it, with the other three ladies hot on my heels.
"Check the peephole."
"Who is it?"
"Are you expecting anyone?"
I glanced over my shoulder, suddenly feeling all the more wary about opening it. "No one knows we're here. Valentin only set this up this morning."
On tip toes I stood to peer through the peephole, and saw a skinny man in a hotel uniform standing with his arms clasped behind him.
"I think it's the bellhop."
"Do you recognize him?" Becca asked with the kind of seriousness in her tone that had my heart rate rising.
"I think so?" The man knocked again. "There's no one else out there. I'm going to open it."
Destiny put her hand up. "Wait!" In two strides, she crossed to the bookshelf and picked up a heavy abstract lamp base, holding it over her shoulder like she planned on hitting someone with it if she had to.
Becca took a bunch of keys out of her handbag and slipped one into her palm so that the sharp edge jutted out between her knuckles when she made a fist and Chloe pulled her cell phone out and stepped out of the line of sight of the door, putting some distance between us and them.
"I've got Roman on speed dial, just in case."
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
The bellhop took a step back, eyes darting between me and Destiny and the lamp. "Um… sorry to disturb you. There's a gentleman downstairs who wanted to see you? He said to give you this note."
I took the piece of paper from him with a stiff nod. "Thank you."
Becca pulled me back inside and Destiny slammed the door closed. "You can't be too careful. No point hanging around in the hall."
"Right." I swallowed hard, looking down at the piece of paper in my grip, wondering whether I could really sign up to a life of this much paranoia. But the answer was already clear to me. For Valentin, I'd do anything it took.
"What does it say?"
"Give me a minute. " And part of me wasn't sure I wanted to. I had a suspicion I knew who the gentleman waiting downstairs in the lobby was, and not one of these ladies was going to let me go down and talk to him if it was who I thought it was.
I unfolded the piece of paper, and written across the middle was a single line.
My dear Mia, I hope that you will join me for tea to congratulate you on your engagement. I would also like to discuss some things with you, before it is all too late and mistakes are made.
"Well?" Suddenly I had three pairs of eyes fixed on me, and I knew I wasn't going to get away without a convincing answer.
"It's Timoshenko," I heard myself say before I could stuff the words back into my mouth.
"What?"
"He - wants to have tea with me."
"He wants to kidnap your ass, that's what he wants to do. Trust me."
"No, I really don't think he does. This whole thing has only been dragging on so long because… he's Valentin's father. But he's too stubborn to admit it, and he thinks he has to be take over by force or no one will take Valentin seriously. Which isn't even all of it, because he's just scared of getting old and having nothing to do anymore, and Valentin's been trying to get him to just sign over control, like it's any other company…"
"Honey, breathe." Destiny blinked at me, and I could see that I probably wasn't making much sense. "Go back a minute. Valentin is Timoshenko's son?"
I nodded. "He had an affair with Valentin's mother. She was a famous ballet dancer. I think that's why Timoshenko's been so comfortable talking to me. I think I remind him of his life back then, before his… legitimate family got killed. And, I don't know. I really think he might want to make a deal after all."
Becca folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. "I don't like this."
"Me neither," Chloe agreed.
I let out a breath. "Look, if he's here and means me harm, then one way or another, he's going to hurt me. If I don't go down there, he's going to come up here, and Valentin and everyone else - they're halfway across the city. If I go down there, then you guys, and your babies, they're safe. And if he kidnaps me, then you'll know what happened and you can tell Valentin, and he'll come and find me. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Not one of the three stopped frowning at me, but Chloe did dart a look across to Destiny. "She kind of makes a good point."
"That doesn't mean we have to like it."
I set the note down in the middle of the table. "Look, this is my risk to take. And you can't stop me. I know what I'm doing, okay? If I'm going to be part of this family, then I have to do this, for Valentin. Just, let me talk to him."
For all my bravado, I was shaking when I walked out into the hall. Every step along the corridor towards the elevators felt like it took an eternity and I had to force myself not to jump at every single unexpected sound on the deserted floor.
No one else was up here but us, and everyone was crowded into the suite, which made me all the more aware that there weren't supposed to be any other people here. I didn't relax until I was safely inside the elevator, and I prayed that the doors wouldn't open until we reached the ground floor.
I might have crumpled into a pathetic heap if we'd stopped on the way down, paranoid that I was about to get machine-gunned.
But the doors pinged open right opposite the hotel lobby, and I stepped out on shaky legs, feeling way more green than I ever did before I had to go out on stage. This was no performance, this was real life, and whatever happened next could very well determine how the rest of mine carried on.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Mia
I recognized the small, greying form of Timoshenko tucked into one of the tables just off the bar. He was reading a newspaper, looking like any other gentleman who was supposed to be there, and he looked up with a smile as I came close.
"Thank you for coming down. I'm very grateful."
"How did you know I was here?"
"Valentin underestimates how many spiderwebs I have spun across this city. It is impossible for anyone to hide from me; even him. Especially him."
I sat down primly on the edge of my seat and Timoshenko flagged one of the waiters down. "Tea, please. And a selection of your best cakes."
I smiled thinly. "Did you really come here to eat cake with me?"
He folded his newspaper in half, and then quartered it, tucking it onto the table in a way that made me feel he was finally giving me his full attention. "No. You know that I did not. I would like to talk to you about the future."
"Go on."
He made a gesture with the gun he had folded into his newspaper, and with cold certainty I realized that he wanted me to get to my feet.
I'd thought I could handle this. I thought that the man liked me, but Valentin had been right this whole time, and suddenly I was the most afraid I'd ever been. He hadn't come here to talk to me, he'd come here to make a last desperate move in an attempt to retain power for himself.
"Don't make a scene, Mia. Stand up and walk ou
t of here with me and nobody needs to get hurt."
I gritted my teeth, determined not to give in to the little quiver of fear that threatened to make my lip wobble. Dignity was something I could still muster. If I could get onto a stage in front of a crowded theater and dance my heart out, then I could manage to walk the length of the lobby with him without going to pieces.
"You're a really bad liar, you know that?"
Timoshenko shrugged. "And yet, you keep listening to me. Who is the more foolish? Mia, don't take this personally, it is simply the way that it has to be. I have told you that."
"It didn't have to be this way if you weren't so damn stubborn, Yakov."
He let out a dull laugh. "You know nothing about this world, Mia, don't pretend to. Be glad that I am giving you a chance to change your mind and get out of it all before you marry the devil himself."
"What are you talking about?"
"I heard about your proposal. I think that you should walk away."
I glared at him. "Valentin is a good man. And I would stand by him through anything. Even this. I'm sorry you never got to see that about him. Maybe you should have looked a little harder. But you're not going to be able to bully me into leaving him. Maybe you should have got the guy who shot at us last night to aim more accurately, because there is no way I'm leaving him."
Timoshenko frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No? Don't bullshit me. You tried to have us all killed!"
Timoshenko almost looked affronted.
"You are wrong. I did nothing of the kind. I came here to talk to you before it is too late."
"Why should I believe that when you're pointing a gun at me, again?"
Timoshenko gritted his teeth. "If I did not have the gun, you would not listen because you think that I was behind what happened last night. I assure you, I was not."
Despite everything I'd learned about the man, my instincts told me that he was being sincere. I nodded for him to go on. "I have read Valentin's proposal. He wants me to step down, to sign everything over like the Bratva is just another company." He grimaced. "It is not. And it cannot be that simple."
"No. I know it's not. He does too, deep down. If you listened to him-"
Timoshenko held his hand up and I let myself fall silent. "I am not here to argue. I think that I understand what he is trying to do. It is not that simple, but his modern plans are to make it appear as though it is."
I nodded. "I think so. That's what I understand."
"Well, there are certain things, things like my club, Zhivago's, and various longstanding partnerships and dealings that… are never going to fit into that model."
I swallowed, trying to make sure my voice didn't shrivel up with nerves. "I think Valentin plans to shut that side of things down."
He let out a low harumph. "He cannot just wash his hands of our lifeblood."
I grimaced. This, I could guess, was the cause of the contentions between them. "I think he just thinks that the risks aren't worth the reward."
Timoshenko practically rolled his eyes. "But he thinks that he can simply click his fingers and magic them away. No. Even Roman is not good enough to make that paper trail vanish."
"What are you saying?"
He paused while the waitress set down the tea pot and a pair of mugs, and then a stacked tray of cakes and plates for each of us.
He helped me to a cream cake, and poured the tea. I tried not to let myself feel nauseous just looking at them.
"I am saying that I have a solution to mesh with his. I have realized, Mia, that I do not want to die. I have been thinking a lot about what you said to me. About my ego, and about what I could have. I do not want to force my son to kill me. And that is what Valentin is to me, no matter how much I have denied it. I think that it would be better for this to become a partnership."
I felt my heart jump in my chest, full of hope that what he was saying was true. But all at once, I could see the flaw. Valentin hadn't worked as hard as he had to settle for a partnership, least of all now, when Timoshenko had tried to kill him and me. "Yakov… I don't think he's going to go for that."
"Listen to me. I will keep hold of the things he wishes to be rid of. It will be my name on them. They will not be tied to the Bratva. And Valentin can have the rest. I will still have my city. All the little enterprises that I set up. At least until the police come after them."
My eyes widened. He really did understand what Valentin had been trying to do in giving the Bratva a clean image, a spotless paper trail, and he didn't think it was ever going to wash without a scapegoat. "But they'll lock you up."
Timoshenko shook his head. "No. I am an old man. And the police have too much loyalty to us. And, perhaps I am wrong. But what does it matter? I will be alive, and Valentin will be the head of the Bratva, and he will have his modern revolution."
"You'd do that for him?"
Timoshenko shrugged. "It is as you said. He is my son. And I am looking forward to welcoming you as a daughter in law. Perhaps I will live to see my grandchildren. I didn't realize that this was what I wanted until I saw that it might happen without me."
I blinked at him, completely confused by what the man was saying.
"But you… you had us shot at! You killed Arkadi!"
Timoshenko let out a weary sigh. "No. I did not. I think that I have an unruly disciple to blame. And I am taking care of it. I hope that Valentin will understand. But if he does not, I need you to make him."
Finally it felt like everything I'd believed was really true was coming into play. I'd been right this whole time. Timoshenko did care about Valentin, he'd just been too proud to admit it, but now, because of me, he truly wanted to make a change.
I beamed, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Thank you. Thank you so much. This is definitely the right thing to do."
He nodded slowly and he patted my hand. "Well, now you must tell him. And I must sign his infernal paperwork and we will announce it to the Bratva. It will be done. Now show me this ring of yours. I hope - oh yes, he has good taste. That is something."
I couldn't stop myself from laughing, but I think it was more the relief that flooded through me than anything else. This meant so much to me. Valentin didn't have to do something horrible that would hang over him for the rest of his life just to take the throne he was owed, and that was the best engagement present I ever could have asked for.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Valentin
All six of us jumped into the dark grey Land Rover with blacked out windows that Maxim had somehow acquired. I rode shotgun while he drove, and the others piled into the back. Somewhere along the line, Elizabeth had become one of the guys and I wasn't about to argue that she should stay back with the others. She'd proven her worth in St Petersburg, and I had no doubt that she would do whatever it took for me here in Moscow, too.
In the mirror, I could see Ivan hanging onto the handle above the door, looking grimly out the window, no doubt aligning himself with whatever came next. Roman took the other side, laptop out, no doubt already chasing cash flow to hone in on our target. Elizabeth was in the back row, in one of the side seats right at the rear, taking up point with Viktor. With those two defending us, I pitied the fool who tried to follow us. Anyone who opened fire was good as dead.
"Where to?"
There was only one place that made sense to me. One place that Timoshenko had always clung to. "Zhivago's."
From the hotel, it was a long drive, but Maxim had an inbuilt knowledge of the back roads like he was a local in so many towns. I knew from being his handler for so many years that he would get us exactly where we needed to go in as little time as possible, and as he gunned the engine and yanked the handbrake up sharply, spinning us out into a sharp turn, I knew I wasn't wrong.
We screeched to a halt right outside the doors, and we piled out without a word. From the back Elizabeth pulled out a black duffle and handed out an assortment of sawn off shotguns and assault
rifles.
"Go big, or go home. Isn't that right, Valentin?"
I met Maxim's eye and nodded shortly. Today, this ended. There was no other way. At least under Maxim's guidance, I knew that whatever happened, nothing would be traced to us, because there would never be any bodies found.
"Let's do this."
As one, the six of us pushed through the swing doors and the bouncers recoiled at the sight of us, hands already rising above their heads in a surrender gesture, weapons discarded on the floor in a resounding clatter.
"Where's Timoshenko?" I boomed. He was the only one I cared about.
The two thick-necked goons looked at each other dumbly and their frightened eyes pivoted back to mine.
"I'm losing patience…"
There was a noise behind the bar, and Maxim gestured for Viktor to go one way, Elizabeth the other.
I shook my head and strode towards it, leaning over the counter to grab the coward by the collar and yank him to his feet. I'd been expecting a bar worker to have to dismiss in short order with instructions not to speak a word of what he'd seen to anybody.
But what I found instead was Yuri.
"What are you doing here?"
He visibly flinched back at my growl, hands raising involuntarily to shield his face.
"Nothing!"
"Bull shit. What are you doing here?"
I knew Timoshenko's preferred structure and there was no way that a low life like Yuri was allowed in here. It was too close to Timoshenko himself. Even he preferred to draw a line between himself and the common thugs he got to do his business.
Yuri shook his head, refusing to say a word, and that was when I really knew that he was out to cause me trouble. I yanked him up over the bar and tossed him down at Ivan's feet. "Guard him. If he moves, shoot him. I don't have time for this rubbish."
I turned on the spot, surveying the single room of the club. "Where is Timoshenko? I will ask you all one more time, and then I am afraid that I will have to start shooting because your silence will have to be taken as disrespect towards me as your new leader. Do you understand?"
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