Chapter 38
Trinity
The sparkling chandeliers and red velvet covering nearly every surface of this hotel rival the grandeur of the Ritz. Still, I find that Grigori’s choice, while sophisticated, lacks charm. Color me surprised.
Grigori and his men have holed up in a large suite with dark carpeting and blood-red walls. A pool table covered in red felt sits near the balcony.
If I weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, I would laugh at the sight. Did they specifically request a pool table with a red top for the room?
For breakfast, they offered me filet mignon, waffles, omelets, and chocolate croissants. To their credit, they’ve treated me like a queen, or like the woman carrying Grigori’s child.
But I recognize a prison cell when I see one, no matter how many spoonfuls of sugar they use to sweeten reality.
Grigori Rostov is intelligent, on par with the leaders of other criminal organizations, my late father included. He knows I know I had no real choice. If I hadn’t agreed to work with him, he would’ve taken me by force.
I hope I convinced him that even if he coerced me, I plan on assisting. If he views me as a compliant little ally, I’ll be able to move around more freely.
I don’t have the hard drive, and he needs my help to obtain it. While we’re working on that, I can plot my escape.
I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. At least I’m alive and breathing steadily to fend off any panic attacks, the way Brody showed me. If I learned one thing from my time with that man, it’s how to remain calm under pressure.
For me, that means switching off my brain and following my gut. That never happened before Brody.
Everything had to be logical. Orderly. Analyze, weigh the options, and choose the best course. Relying on the heart—its desires, its hopes, its dreams—was for children. A reactionary response. Adults considered the pros and cons and settled on the most logical choice.
All the chaos with Brody taught me that approach was wrong. Balance between the heart and the mind is the key. Logic and love. If I get out of this alive, I’m never discounting my gut again.
Who knows, Ange, maybe I’ll be brave enough to start living for both of us.
Though if Andrei Kruschev has his way, I won’t live past this afternoon.
He’s bandaged and bruised, with half his face mottled up like a hideous Halloween mask, but he’s alive. Though he’s sitting at the other end of this long eight-person table, he hasn’t touched a single bite of food.
Still, I know a hungry lion when I see one. Worse, that sharp glimmer in his eyes suggests I’m his next meal.
I pick at a chocolate croissant to busy my hands. Maybe pretending to eat will convince everyone I’m relaxed and not itching to flee.
The room’s absolute silence doesn’t help.
A dozen men fill the suite—leaning against the walls, sitting on the sofa, loitering at the mini bar—and I swear I can hear my own blood rushing through my veins.
Don’t villains usually talk about their next pillaging or their latest village raid? What’s with these guys?
Across the room, Grigori’s phone vibrates against the desk. I twitch in my seat as my heart skitters against my ribs.
Fuck, that scared me.
Grigori grabs the cell with long pianist’s fingers and drags it to his ear. “Ah, Brody Gallagher.”
My fingers slip on the pastry.
“I would say I’m surprised to hear from you, but I’ve been expecting your call for some time.” Grigori spins around in the leather chair in front of the antique desk by the balcony. He’s propped himself up like a king on a throne for the better part of the morning while conducting business.
When he spins my way, his lips lift in a smirk.
I do my best to calm my thundering heart so I can hear.
Why would Brody call Grigori Rostov?
Grigori rises and crosses the room on long legs. “Go on.”
He stops at my side and places a hand on my shoulder, towering over me in his expensive pinstriped suit.
He resembles a gangster from the twenties. Or maybe a vampire, given our locale.
Grigori scoffs. “Yes, she is safe. Well-fed and watered. You Americans get so hot so quickly. …Yes, of course, I am well aware she is not an animal. Why are you calling? The point, please.”
I think my lungs might have become stone.
Brody is calling about me.
“Well, as you well know, that hard drive is of utmost importance to us and our long-term goals.”
My fingers clench beneath the table, digging into the tops of my thighs. Please, please, please…
“I would consider a trade. What do you propose?”
Grigori sits beside me and tears a hunk of flaky crust off the croissant on my plate. A dozen more remain untouched on the platter a few feet away, but over the last few hours, I’ve learned the man loves a pissing contest. Even when I refuse to participate.
“You almost killed Andrei, you know. Not to mention all my men. There are repercussions for such actions.”
Sweat beads on the back of my neck.
“So you say the information on the drive will more than compensate for your actions?” Grigori nods once. “And if I disagree with your assessment?”
He pours himself a cup of coffee. Brody’s deep voice echoes on the other end of the line, too soft for me to parse.
My body reacts to the sound all the same, with tingling threads of hope galloping through my bloodstream. The effort required to remain still and appear unfazed is monumental.
Grigori laughs, an almost sweet chord that rattles over my nerves like a train.
“You seem awfully sure of yourself. You have a deal. You tell me when and where to make the exchange. There is too much heat and stimulation in this city, and I do not appreciate all the unearned celebration. I give you to the end of today.”
The leader of the Roguilin crime family hangs up, his claw still on my shoulder.
I work to maintain steady breathing and keep my face and mind blank. Grigori needs to believe this is just business for me too.
Underneath my skin, though, my entire body buzzes with hope and fear and a warm, melting sensation I can only describe as love.
Brody called for me. Offered to trade for me.
Despite how we parted, he’s coming to my rescue.
Grigori rests against the edge of the table. “It seems your boyfriend misses you and is willing to exchange you for all your family secrets.”
I hold his gaze. Those dark, glittering, and entirely soulless gray eyes remind me of a snake’s.
He tilts his head. “Is this a deal I should make?”
I swallow around the dry lump in my throat. “I think so.”
“If I do, you will never find out who killed your friend.”
He may be right, but even if he revealed the truth, that won’t do Angelica any good if I’m not alive to use the intel.
I raise my chin. “All that matters to you is getting the information on the drive, right? So you worry about your goals, and I’ll worry about mine.”
Grigori cracks a wide-mouthed and absolutely terrifying smile. “You have known me for but a few hours, yet already, you understand me better than Andrei over there.”
If looks could kill, Andrei’s glare would slice Grigori’s head clean off his shoulders. I suppose this father-son duo doesn’t get along any better than Declan and Brody, which is not a high bar to meet.
I try for a vicious grin. “You forget who my father was. I know how intelligent men like you think and what matters most.” At times like these, a little flattery never hurts.
Grigori nods and rises to his feet. “It is settled.” He motions to the bathroom. “Go and ready yourself. Your hero is waiting to meet you.”
I obey, closing the bathroom door and bracing my palms on the marble vanity countertop.
Brody Gallagher. The man who saved my life. Who rocked my world. Who taught me how to stop overthinking and listen to my heart. The man who doesn’t truly need his awful father’s approval.
That’s the man I fell for.
And he’s coming back for me.