Page 42 of Maksim
He gives a single nod before roaming his gaze around my home, studying it as Alik does most things. This isn’t the first time he’s been here, but you wouldn’t know it by his never changing, curious gaze.
I walk to my liquor cabinet and pull out a bottle of Belvedere before retrieving two glasses.
“Should I apologize?” he asks, his tone neutral. I’m unsure if he’s capable of empathy or remorse, but with the work he does for me, I highly doubt it. There’s a reason I prefer him out of all the enforcers the Bratva has. He isn’t sadistic, and therefore wastes no time, but he isn’t the slightest bit hesitant to commit acts of violence that would make any other man cringe. His complete detachment from humanity makes him utterly efficient.
“No, that was the point of asking you to walk in without knocking. I wanted her to think you were someone else.”
“Ah,” he says, sitting slowly on the couch, sliding his eyes over the empty walls. I wonder how long they would linger if I had photo frames or something hanging up. “You wanted to scare her.”
I don’t answer. For some reason, saying it out loud makes me feel like an asshole. I pour the drinks then walk his to him.
Long fingers wrap around the glass when I hand it to him, and he gives me a tiny quirk of his lips and a tip of the glass before drinking. I sit in a recliner adjacent to him.
He stares into his glass when he brings it down. “What a cruel game.”
I feel my face tighten as my eyes slightly narrow. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he does have a sadistic side.
“Right… So what did you find out?”
Looking up at me, he folds his legs and rests the glass on his knee. “They know little.”
“Little?” I raise a brow. “Little is not nothing.”
Without breaking eye contact, Alik slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a flash drive that he tosses to me. I catch it with one hand before studying it as if the information is written on the outside instead of hidden within.
“The organization caught most everything on security footage, which you guessed, but nothing I found points to them knowing your identity. They do know the girl’s, but their assumption is that she’s on her own. They don’t suspect she’s with you.”
I shift to face him fully, my brow furrowing.
He goes on to explain without me needing to ask the question.
“The footage that they have is on that flash drive.” He points to the device in my hand. “Watch it and you’ll see why. There’s a video of her murdering Daniel Storm, to put it lightly, but part way through, blood covers the webcam, so it ends there. The only other camera on the property is a doorbell camera that catches you entering with a key several hours after the incident. They know you were there for her, but reason would suggest she was already gone and is likely still on the loose, given what she’s capable of.”
I lean back on the couch and blow out an amused gust of air, bringing my glass to my lips but pausing.
They still don’t know who I am, don’t even know that I have her.
Smiling, I take a sip of the vodka.
“The wife is calling for vengeance.”
Wiping my lips on my shoulder, I shrug. “So let her.”
“She wants them to harm the girl’s family. An eye for an eye.”
I huff. “They’re in Albania. That’s too much of a hassle.”
“For the organization, possibly. For the wife, possibly not.”
Tension suddenly appears in my neck, and I roll it out. “What are you saying, Alik?”
When I look at him, his shoulders rise and fall. “I don’t know, boss. I’m just here to give you information.”
For several moments, I just stare, and he stares back with empty eyes that would give away nothing of what he’s thinking if I didn’t already know.
He’s thinking it might be a good idea to kill the wife.
It’s an idea. But I don’t like it.