Smirnov answered on the first ring. Agitation filled his voice. “Kazimir—”
“Listen to me. I’m on vacation.”
“The disrespect that you’ve—”
“Enough!” I formed my hand into a fist.
Silence hit the other line.
Emily bit her lip and covered my fist with her soft hand. Instantly, I calmed. “Here’s a response to your message. You want the protests to stop. The brotherhood will help. That is the deal.”
Smirnov mumbled, “You will help?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“They’ll be off the streets in a few hours. They leave and you don’t disturb my vacation anymore.”
“Well…then, good. Yes. Good.” Not a complete fool, Smirnov asked, “And what do you expect in return?”
“Everything.” I hung up the phone.
Be lucky I didn’t send men to the Kremlin.
Emily’s face still held concern. “So?”
“That’s done. Let’s go on our date.” I rose from the desk.
She fell into step. “But what are you going to do? How will you get the protestors to leave the streets?”
I grinned. “I’m going to do the most logical thing. A solution that, for centuries, not many governments have figured out.”
“What?”
“If the people are out in the streets protesting because they’re hungry, then how do you get them off, mysh? Do I shoot them? No. Their kids will come back. Their aunts. Their uncles. It’ll fuel them to fight more. And I’m not in the business of killing innocent people for a corrupt machine like the Kremlin.” I turned to her and smiled. “So how do you get hungry protestors off the streets?”
“You feed them?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Smirnov won’t like that solution. The brotherhood will look like Guardian Angels, going out into the streets giving people money and bringing food supplies.”
“Can the Bratva handle something like this?”
“No, but all I need them to do is deliver the food supplies and money to Gukovo.”
“The opposition leader?”
“Yes. He’ll make sure everyone is off the streets and fed.”
She smiled at me. “I like that solution. I imagine it will still piss Smirnov off, but at least you’ve got the people’s back.”
“And, even more important, we can enjoy Paris without killing any more generals.”
“Well, that’s also a plus.”
It is indeed. Finally, we can have a fucking vacation.
That afternoon, I took her to the Catacombs of Paris. It had been a bitch to rent out in such little time, but after a six-figure price offer, they’d closed it down for us.
Any other woman would’ve wanted to see the Louvre or Eiffel Tower. Maybe that woman would’ve wanted a picnic in a garden or a horse and carriage ride around the city.
While I was sure Emily still wanted to check those sites out, there was pure joy on her face when we arrived.
My mouse is more than the average woman. And she’s all mine.
When we arrived, her voice sounded cheery. “What is this place?”
“It’s an underground burial ground.”
The smile remained on her face. “A burial ground under Paris?”
For a second, I thought disgust would hit her face, but I’d guessed the right option with her.
She beamed. “This is going to be creepy good.”
“It will be.” I glanced at my guards.
They already had their guns out. The brotherhood could be highly superstitious. Religion was definitely followed among them all, although it wasn’t clear what religion took over the majority. Still, our tattoos of the Holy Trinity, churches, and crosses showed how we attempted to touch God.
Had I not been forcing my guards to go with us on this date, they probably wouldn’t have dared, scared a ghost or demon lay within the tunnels and would come back with them.
I turned toward the entrance.
Will something come back with us?
It was too late to turn back as Emily’s face brightened even more and she hurried her pace to the tunnels.
Only for you, mysh. Only for you.
An old man walked up to us. “Hello, I’m Simon. I’ll be your guard today.”
I held her hand.
Our men gave us several feet for the feel of privacy, but there were people who were intrigued about my mouse and others threatening her. My guards would have to remain near.
Pavel had called before we left. He’d announced he would be here, but not with Misha. In a good mood with this possible pregnancy, I’d cut Pavel some slack. Eventually, I would have to deal with my cousin Misha soon on my own.
For now, I’ll enjoy my mouse in Paris.
With an odd look, Simon studied my guards behind us, turned back to Emily, and winked. “Are you excited?”
“I am,” she said.
“Today we’ll only see a small part of the Catacombs, but did you know that beneath Paris’ beautiful city streets, there’s an entire realm of death that exists?”
Her face brightened. “I had no idea.”
“More than 200 miles of tunnels, many lined to the ceiling with skulls and bones.”
Emily opened her mouth in shock. “Really?”
“Really.” He smiled. “So this is not a tour for the faint at heart.”
I spoke up, “I’m sure we’ll try not to be scared.”