You Don't Own Me 2 (The Russian Don 2)

‘I see,’ he says with a curt nod and looks down at the papers. He frowns. ‘This looks like a symphony for a full orchestra.’ He remarks with surprise. ‘You say your boyfriend wrote this?’

‘Yes, his name is Aleksandr Malenkov. I’ve put his name, address and phone number at the back of the last sheet.’

He doesn’t turn to look at the last sheet. Instead, he gazes at the music, then looks up at me in disbelief. ‘Did you say he has had no musical training?’

‘That’s what I believe.’

‘He’s not a musician?’ he asks again. His voice is full of incredulity.

‘No. He’s a … um … businessman.’

‘That’s incredible,’ he declares, his eyes scanning the notes excitedly.

I glance quickly at Stella. She widens her eyes at me.

‘Is it good?’

‘Good? It’s amazing. This is the work of someone extremely talented and accomplished. There are very few people in the world who can compose at this level.’

‘Really?’ I ask, beaming with happiness.

‘I’d like to show this to someone and get back to you.’ Eliot looks buzzed and as excited as I am feeling.

‘Oh yes, please. That would be just brilliant,’ I say eagerly, leaning forward, my whole body straining with joy.

Before Eliot can answer, my phone goes. I take it out and see that it is Mark. I instantly reject the call and put the phone back into my bag.

‘Sorry about that. I should have switched it off,’ I say as my phone rings again. I flush bright red. I take it out and it’s Mark again. I hit reject and smile apologetically at Eliot. ‘Sorry. This is such amazing news,’ I say, and my phone rings again. I frown. This is not like Mark. Mark has never done that.

‘You should take that call. It’s sounds urgent,’ Eliot says with a grin.

‘Thanks. Please excuse me,’ I say, and press answer.

‘Mark?’

‘Thank God I got you,’ he says, relief pouring from his voice.

‘What is it?’

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m with Stella. Why?’

‘You’re not anywhere near Malenkov’s house, are you?’

‘No. Why?’

‘I don’t have time to explain right now, but just tell Malenkov that there’s a bomb planted in one of his cars. I don’t know exactly but I think it’s set to go off when the engine starts.’

‘What?’ I explode.

‘Look, I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I promised to be the best friend you have, and this is me keeping that promise. Call him now and tell him to stay away from all his cars today. There’s a bomb in one of them. Most probably the one he uses most.’

‘Is this a joke?’ I ask desperately.

‘It’s not a joke. It’s fucking serious, Dahlia. I can’t tell you more at the moment. Just warn him, he’ll understand, and please, Dahlia, keep safe. I’ll call you later.’

‘How do you know this?’ I ask, my voice quivering with fear and confusion.

He sighs. ‘I’m about to enter a tunnel and I won’t have any reception for a while, but I’ll explain everything later.’

He disconnects the call.

‘What is it?’ Stella asks.

I shake my head. ‘I’m not sure,’ I say, and hit Zane’s number on my phone, but it goes straight to answer machine. He always answers my calls. That sends me immediately into panic mode.

‘What is it?’ Stella asks again, her voice bordering on hysteria.

For an instant I look at her blankly, not really seeing her, then my mind becomes single pointed. I spring to my feet. I can’t waste a single moment explaining anything to anybody. Zane is in danger.

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got something important to do. I’ll liaise with Stella and contact you again,’ I tell a surprised Eliot.

My body pumping with adrenaline, I turn to Stella. She is staring at me with her famous WTF expression. Maybe later, if this turns out to be a sick joke, we’ll laugh about this, but now I’m too frightened by Mark’s tone to do anything but run to Zane. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, OK?’ I tell her quickly, and rush out of Eliot’s home.

The lift is old and it was slow on our way up so I don’t use it. I open the fire exit door and run down the three flights of stairs. Outside, I realize that it is going to take too long for me to call Noah and wait for him to come. As far as he was concerned I was going to wait for Stella to finish her massage and we would be an hour. Who knows where he’d be right now?

As if the Gods are with me, I see a taxi turning the corner into the street and its light is on. I run to the edge of the street and hail it. I get in quickly and give him Zane’s address.

‘Sorry, love,’ he says shaking his head. ‘Can’t take you there. There’s a huge jam in that area. Big accident earlier. People died,’ he tells me.