With This Secret

I opened my eyes and turned off the shower. Levan still had the same smile, but his eyes were different. From what I could gather so far, he was now deeply involved in the brutal world of the Mafia. Right now, and either-way, I would ensure that Levan would be the least of my problems. I walked out of the stall and wrapped myself in the fluffy towel that had been neatly folded and left on a round pillar style marble table. As I luxuriated in its softness, I wondered just how rich Levan really was.

He had always ‘smelled’ of money and had that easy confidence of rich people. I guess knowing you can buy your way out of any kind of trouble must be a great feeling. Still, there was never any real indication I could point to. He never wore designer gear, drove up in a gold lambo, or flashed his money around.

Maybe if I’d had enough time, but he’d just come and gone like the wind … unpredictable and untraceable. My gaze took in the obviously expensive big slabs of dark marble surrounding me. This much money was quite overwhelming for me. Before Mom started the bakery, I was one of those children who went to bed hungry as the month got closer to the end because Dad had gambled away his wages.

I walked back into the bedroom … and stopped at the sight of food. Walking over to it, I quickly realized what I was looking at: Spanish omelet. Once I’d told Levan, it was my favorite meal. The only problem was it was a lie. From a girl who had been so desperate to connect with him on any level she was willing to do almost anything. When Levan had mentioned he loved the dish, the lie had fallen from my lips without me even thinking about it.

I could see that my dirty clothes were gone, probably already spinning in a washing machine, so I stayed in the towel I was wrapped in. Lying on a cream daybed, I inputted his password and dialed Aldie again.

She answered on the first ring. “Everything okay?” she asked urgently.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you alright?”

“I’m not the one who has been in a car crash and being held, location unknown.”

“Do you have any news?” I asked quickly.

“Um … yeah. You’re hundred percent sure his surname is Ivankov?”

“Well, not a hundred percent, but that’s what I saw on a document lying on the kitchen counter as I passed.”

“Uh … but he’s never mentioned his surname before?”

I sighed. “You were there too. Do you remember him giving anything away?”

“You have a point there. He was always more than a bit mysterious. Well, if Ivankov really is his surname, then I don’t know what to say.”

I sat up. “Why?”

“Well, his family is one of the most successful Russian Mafia families, if not the most successful.”

“What? He said his father lived in Spain.”

“That’s not exactly a lie. His father does live there, half the year. He’s the billionaire head of a conglomerate that seems to have all the politicians in America on speed dial. He has more photos with Putin than I have with my mom.”

“Putin?”

“Yup, the President of Russia.”

“I know that. I was expressing surprise.”

“By the way his brother, Maxim is … umm … fierce.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anatoly showed me a picture of him online. By God I’d pay him to take me hostage.”

“Aldie …”

“Sorry, sorry. What can I do? I’m just a hot-blooded woman. Anyway, to get back to the story, I called up Anatoly, and you know he’s a know-it-all when it comes to the Russian community. The Ivankovs basically run New York when it comes to the Russian Mafia. They seem to have been accused of everything under the sun except none of them have ever been caught. They say his father is named The Ghost because even when he is there you don’t see him. They say he also has the American judicial system in his pocket.”

“Wow,” I whispered.

“There’s quite a lot of info about him and his older brother, but Anatoly says he doesn’t know much about Levan. However, he does think Levan might be in training and have recently been left in charge of their business activities while Maxim is out of town. Mind you, that’s just him guessing because there doesn’t seem too much known about any of them. Most people don’t even know what Levan looks like. I think he must hire someone to scrub the net for him. I had to go to page six of Google to find one grainy photo of him when he was in his teens.”

“What kind of—”

I was interrupted by a sudden knock to the door. I thought it would be my clothes, so I quickly ended the call with Aldie and was about to rise and answer it when the door was rudely pushed open. It startled me, especially as Levan loomed in the doorway.