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Tempted by the Sinner

Page 12

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Maksim blew a breath out from his nose and looked at me.

“Does he think that just because I have accent, that I am stupid?” Maksim asked me.

I grinned and shrugged. “Could be,” I said.

My father gave me a sharp look. “I know you’re not dumb, Maksim. Otherwise, I would’ve killed you years ago and taken over your territory.”

“Like you do now?” Maksim asked. “Oh, yes, you pretend like you are not hurting me, but I know you chip away at edges, little bit by little bit.” Maksim made a disgusted face. “And now you call me here, you talk of deal.”

“It’s an alliance,” I said. “A mutually beneficial alliance.”

“You do not do mutually beneficial,” Maksim said. “You do personal beneficial, but not mutual.”

“Maksim, I know you’re hurting,” my father said. “Yes, you’re losing territory, and yes, some of my Capos are taking it from you. But it’s not just me and you know it. Just three days ago, one of your top ranked soldiers left your organization, isn’t that right?”

Maksim scowled. “Did do you know this?”

“Of course I know,” my father said. “It’s my job to know, but beyond that, he made sure the whole city knew about it.”

“Pah,” Maksim said, waving a hand. “He was coward. Not willing to fight.”

“But he’s not alone,” I said. “More of your guys are talking about following. They think you’re weak, Maksim. Think you’re ready to roll over and let the young men take over.”

Maksim narrowed his eyes at me. “Men such as yourself?”

I held my hands out, palms up, and smiled.

“What my son’s trying to say is you need help right now,” my father said. “We can provide you with that help. Stabilize you.”

“Why?” Maksim said slowly. “I see no reason to do such a thing.”

“We need you,” my father said. “With you in the city, all the attention won’t be on my family. We don’t want a street war any more than you do. Maksim, working together makes more sense now than it ever did, and if you can look beyond the past, I think we can see a future where both our families are stronger together.”

Maksim took a deep breath, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m listening.”

I smiled and stood up as my father launched into an explanation of the plan. It was a long, detailed, and incredibly boring speech about logistics, about selling Maksim drugs at good prices, at helping them set up a distribution network where the money flowed between both families. I walked out of the meeting and felt Maksim’s eyes on me, tracking my movements until I slipped out the doors and into the hallway.

My job was done. My father wanted me in there as a show of solidarity and to convince Maksim to listen. I’d been away from the city long enough that I didn’t have a history of fighting with the Russians here, and so my father thought I might be useful.

So I served my purpose and then I was done.

I walked a few feet away, down the plush red carpet with its alternating geometric and floral designs. I stopped beneath a painting of a boat in a river at night, the water reflecting the white moonlight with little swirls of white paint.

I took out my phone and made a call.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Mona,” I said.

“Vince,” she said. “I thought I just got rid of you.”

“Maybe, but I haven’t gotten you off my mind just yet,” I said.

She laughed. “The lines are getting better.”

“Good.” I tilted my head and smiled. I reached out and ran a finger down the painting. I knew it was probably worth millions of dollars, though the painter escaped me at the moment. I touched the canvas, the oil, felt the bumps and long marks where the brush had been pushed, pulled, stamped down.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I’ve been thinking about your little… idea,” I said.

“Really?” Her tone was eager, much too eager.

I smiled and dropped my hand from the painting.

“Really,” I said. “Come meet me at the Art Museum in an hour and we’ll discuss it.”

“Wait,” she said. “But—”

I hung up the phone.

If she wanted this, she’d show up. And if she didn’t, well, I hadn’t been to the museum in years, and I was sure I could get lost and entertain myself for a while.5MonaI ran home from Whole Foods with only half of what I went there to get, jumped into the shower, and just barely managed to make it to the Art Museum an hour after that phone call. I stepped out of the Uber, my heart beating fast, as I looked around for Vince.

And didn’t see him anywhere.

I walked to the right, away from the big, wide staircase, and over toward the Rocky statue. There was a line for pictures and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the tourists. Philadelphia had to so much to offer, so much rich and important history, and all people wanted to do was come take a picture with stupid Rocky.



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