“Maybe tomorrow,” I tell her. I’m too keyed up to want to let her out of the suite. I need her right here, where I can keep her safe.
“Can I go out?” Mika asks in Russian.
That’s right. He’s from Moscow, too. I narrow my eyes at him. “Where?” I ask in English. Not for his benefit, but for Alessia’s.
He shrugs. He’s perfected nonchalance. It’s hard to know what goes on in that head of his. I consider. He may have family here. Grandparents, aunts, uncles. Maybe friends.
“Who are you going to see?”
Again, the shrug.
“Mika…” I walk over to him. He flinches. The boy’s been beaten too many times. “Tell me the truth. Are you running away?”
His surprise is genuine. “Nyet.”
“Do you have family here you want to see?” The thieves’ code of conduct requires bratva to forsake all family. Maybe Aleksi drilled that into him after his mother left. He might be afraid to tell me.
There’s a flicker of something on his face that tells me I’m onto the truth.
I shove my hand in my pocket and pull out a wad of rubles. “You know your way around Moscow?” I ask.
Alessia comes over, hands on hips. She doesn’t like it.
Mika’s eyes drop to the cash as he nods.
“You know where we are now? How to get where you’re going?”
Again, he nods gravely.
“Mika, where are you going?” Alessia demands.
Again with the shrug.
“You have your phone? You know how to call me?”
He nods.
“I don’t like it,” Alessia says. “He’s only twelve years old. You’re going to let a kid roam around this city alone at night?”
Mika shifts, brows drawing down.
I consider him. The kid lived on his own in a foreign city. He probably roamed these streets from the time he should’ve been in school.
I hand him the money. “I want you back by ten. Call me if anything goes wrong. Understand?”
Mika bobs his head.
“But where is he going? Shouldn’t we bring him there? I don’t like this.”
“I’m coming back,” Mika assures her. Then stuns us both by wrapping his arms around her for a quick, awkward embrace. We stare after him as he scoots out, head down.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Alessia demands.
“I would guess he’s seeing family or going back to where he used to live. Bratva code requires all members to clear ties with family, so I’m guessing that’s why he wouldn’t tell me.”
Alessia taps her lips with one finger. “But you had a relationship with your mother.”
“Yes,” I agree. “My mother was lover to Victor, my leader. She gave me up to his bratva when I was Mika’s age. But because she was his favorite mistress, I was allowed to see her sometimes in secret. And I was given special treatment. Victor sent me to America rather than allow one of his men to kill me.”
“Why did he want to kill you? What did you do?”
I grimace. “I was tricked by a woman. It’s a stupid story.” One I definitely don’t want to tell Alessia. “Come”—I beckon her over—“let me check your blood sugar.”
I give her a shot and order us food from room service. Enough for Mika when he gets back, in case he’s hungry.
When a knock comes on the door, I expect it to be room service.
I didn’t imagine Sabina would have the nerve to show up at my door.
She stands in the opening in a designer blue dress and stiletto heels, smelling of perfume and deceit.
“Vlad.” She tosses her long blonde hair over her shoulder and attempts to come into the hotel room.
I block her entrance.
She looks nervously over her shoulder. “Are you really going to leave me standing in the corridor where anyone might see me? What if Victor found out?”
Dark rage fills me. Is she seriously playing this game with me again? Now she wants Victor to kill me?
Or me to kill Victor?
Not going to happen. I am not going to engage.
“Get out of here before I call him myself,” I snarl.
I sense Alessia behind me. She must’ve heard the tone of my voice. The need to shield her from this shit is so strong, I take Sabina’s arm and push her back out of my doorway to slam the door in her face, but she jumps back in the doorway.
“You know why I’m here. Have you read my letters? Why haven’t you helped me?”
“Of course I didn’t read your letters. And why would I help a woman who purposely put a death sentence on my head? I don’t know what you want, but you won’t find it here. Now get out.”
Sabina catches sight of Alessia and her eyes widen. “Does your American bride know about our child, Vlad?” she says in heavily accented English. I had no idea the bitch spoke English.
I go hot and cold.
“What child?” I snarl in Russian. “The one you invented to convince me to kill Zima?”