Chapter 2
ZORA
The car door isn't even closed before Makar starts in on me, and I have to hide the annoyed expression that wants to creep onto my face. He thinks he's God or something, like our father's absence means he gets to take over the family business or something.
"Took you long enough."
I pull the door shut and the driver pulls away from the curb.
The hospital shrinks in the rearview mirror as we merge into traffic.
The wine stain on my dress has gone cold against my skin, dried to a tacky film on my ribs.
I lean into the seat and try to ignore his huffing and the attitude with which he speaks to me.
I did my best. It's not my fault the plan failed. I didn't think it would work, anyway.
"The hook's not set," I tell him plainly, bracing for his anger.
It's like all my brothers see me as is some female body to dangle in front of men.
It's a total waste of my talents and knowledge, but proving myself in this business is less about what I can handle logistically and more how they can use me.
I hate it. Women deserve far more respect than we're given.
Makar turns over his shoulder to look back at me in the back seat. He thinks sitting up front with the driver is a better way to intimidate me, but I think it makes him look weak. Having a driver is supposed to be classy, not a power move on his part. His hand taps the center console as he scowls.
"What do you mean, it's not set?"
"I mean Roman wasn't available. He had his eyes on a different woman all night.
I couldn't get near him without it looking forced, and forced doesn't work—you told me that yourself.
" Besides the fact that I heard he was announcing his marriage to one of the women in attendance, though I'm not sure how much of that was true.
He exhales through his nose in a long, loud stream of air as his jaw tightens. "So, what did you do for the last hour?"
"Look, I can't target Roman, alright?" I feel frustrated by how they can't just do this themselves.
If the fight club is such a threat and crushing them while they try to rebuild is my brothers' priority, they should just find another way.
Prostituting myself to be the inside man on this job isn't worth losing my dignity.
As it was, I had to douse myself in wine just to get out of that place and it was humiliating, especially when that handsome man wanted to flirt. I felt like an idiot.
Makar glares back at me, and it looks painful, like he'll get a kink in his neck. "So, what’d you do, then?"
I scowl at him before replying, just to show him I'm not intimidated. "I spilled my drink and got up and left. The guy in the hallway was helping me. He said his name was Kazimir. Don’t worry, I gave him Mom’s maiden name like you told me to do for Roman.
" The only name I knew going into this was the name Roman Kuzin, leader of the Kuzin empire and the fight club we hope to take down.
We've been up against them for years, but with Papa away getting treatment for cancer in Europe, my brothers have decided it's a good time to push for more.
"Kazimir Kuzin?" he says. "Roman's nephew?"
"How should I know? You guys tell me nothing. I was supposed to flirt with someone who's not interested at all." I scowl at him and pluck the dress away from my skin, feeling it drying in place on my ribs.
"Yeah… this could work…" His voice goes wistful, like he's daydreaming of victory again, while I let my head fall back against the headrest and close my eyes.
So Kazimir is a Kuzin, which sucks because it means I can't date him after all.
Here I thought he was sweet and charming, and hell, was he good looking too.
But dating the enemy would never fly. I'm trying to prove my worth to my older brothers so they'll let me lead my own fight team, or maybe even expand to my own fight club someday.
If I accept that dinner invite, I'd be signing away any future I ever hoped for.
"What?" I mumble, only half paying attention to him.
"What'd you talk about?" he asks. I feel like ignoring him. Kazimir wasn't my target, and his asking me to dinner is irrelevant. Roman runs the fight ring, not Kazimir, so sliding into his personal space won't do us any good. We needed the head and we didn’t get it, and I couldn’t have if I tried.
"He asked me to dinner." The car rocks as it goes over a few potholes and my head sways from side to side. I want to go home and pour myself some fresh wine and this time drink it instead of spilling it.
"And?"
"And I gave him my number, okay? So lay off. I know I can't date him. I didn't know who he was when he—"
"You think you can work him?" Makar turns in his seat to face forward again while I glower at the back of his head and sigh. Of course he's going to change the play so quickly, it makes my head spin. This is the sort of thing I think is a joke until it isn't, and right now, all bets are off.
"What do you mean?" I pick at the sticky fabric as the car pulls into my neighborhood and the familiar pattern of my neighbors' movements catches my eye.
"I mean, if we give you a new objective to use this asshole to bring them down instead of their leader, can you pull it off?" I catch his eyes watching me in the back of his visor in the tiny mirror's reflection.
"I don't see how you—"
"I said, we'd give you a new directive. Now can you do it or not?"
I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest as the car rolls to a stop. If that guy even calls me at all—that's what he means. Just because I gave him my number doesn't mean he'll call me.
"I guess," I sigh, flicking a glance up at my apartment where the lights are glowing, left on when Bogdan rushed me out earlier.
"Guessing doesn't help, Zora. If you want to be taken seriously, you have to commit."
"Fine," I hiss, opening the door. I stretch my leg out and start to climb out as I grumble, "I can do it, okay?
Just tell me what you want done." The idea of being on some good-looking man's bad side doesn't sit well with me, but family is family.
And you do for family—that's what Mom always says.
It isn't like I have some deep bond with Kazimir or anything.
We just met, and he's one of eight billion fish in this sea.
Just another nameless, faceless man who is easily replaced as soon as he's been useful.
I'm halfway across the sidewalk to my door when Makar calls my name. "Zora."
I stop and look back at him, ready for this to be over so I can shower and change.
"Don't get comfortable with him," Makar says. It's like he's reading my thoughts. "This isn't a playdate. You are an asset right now."
"I know how it works."
"I know you know. I'm just reminding you."
The car pulls off, and I watch it vanish around the corner before I turn and walk up the steps to my apartment, letting myself in with the keycode. I drop my clutch on the table by the door and arm the alarm, then start toward my bathroom, pulling the dress off as I go.
The whole night feels like a waste of time, along with the past two weeks of researching and studying Roman Kuzin—favorite color, green.
Favorite drink, vodka. Favorite thing in the world—not me.
I really poured myself into that task too.
I thought it would lead me right to my own team and I was wrong.
I slink into the bathroom, dropping my cell phone, which was tucked into my dress's bodice all evening, onto the bathroom counter.
Then I turn on the water until it's scalding hot and steaming the mirror and step into the flow.
The water rinses the wine from my skin in a pink stream, but the stain is there for a few days at least.
I don't know why my brothers need me to prove myself.
It's not like our father made them do anything more than put a bullet into someone's skull and then bam, they had their own teams. But poor little Zora knows nothing.
Or that's how they treat me. Well, if Kazimir messages me, I'll show them what I'm made of and prove to them I'm just as capable as they are. Maybe even more so.
When the water starts to run cooler, I scrub my skin and wash my hair, and I hear my phone chirp.
Rinsing off, I sit and think about how I'll manage to use Kazimir Kuzin to make his world crumble.
It might be impossible. I don't know what he does within the organization or how detrimental his failure or incompetence might be to the club.
All I know is that Makar seems to think I can still pull this off.
When I'm toweling off, I check the notification on my screen. It came from an unknown number four minutes ago, and it sends a zing of interest through me. So I swipe right to unlock and read the message.
Unknown: I'm looking forward to dinner with you, Zora. Save my number ~Kaz
And now I have him.
If I can convince my brothers I can do this, they'll finally see my worth. And if I fail, I may very well be sent to Siberia to marry a smelly old fisherman or something.
Only time will tell.