Chapter Thirty-four
Vida
A fter peeking slightly into Ciro’s room, I make sure he isn’t there before finally dialing Dad’s number. I need him to tell me all he can, and I don’t have a clue how I can convince him to do that without him wanting to interrogate me. The call barely rings twice before he picks up and I can almost see his sharp gaze narrowing from the other end as he hesitates slightly before he speaks.
“ Mija ,” he calls, his happiness obvious in his tone.
“Hi Daddy.” I smile, walking towards the dresser.
“Oh, Mija ! I’ve missed you! How are you doing? How’s life?”
This is already feeling like an interrogation, and though I want to engage in normal conversation, I need to get the information before Ciro gets back.
“I’m fine, Daddy, everything’s fine. Can I ask you something?” I begin.
“Yes, of course, anything,” he replies, his tone sounding more serious.
“Remember Vladimir Trofimov?” I ask, letting the silence from the other end of the phone fill the air.
“Yes, I do,” he states, sounding more like a cop now as his guard goes up.
“I need a favor,” I reply, keeping my tone steady even though for some reason I’m beginning to panic.
“ Mija . . .” he pauses. “What do you need?”
“You mentioned knowing someone who told you things about him, like an informant. Do you still have him?” I ask.
A heavy silence lingers between us as he considers what I’m asking. I brace myself, expecting either a quick dismissal or a hundred questions. Instead, he surprises me.
“I know someone who has a connection.”
Before I can send him my million thank yous, he takes the joy away instantly.
“But I’m not giving you anything until I know why you need it. Are they making you do anything you don’t want? Are you in trouble?” he asks, his questions beginning to flood in as expected.
“Dad, no! No one’s making me do anything and I’m not in trouble. I just need what I’m asking for,” I tell him, trying to stay cool.
“I need more than that, Mija . There’s something you’re not telling me. I need more,” he says, and I can picture myself in one of those interrogation rooms where there’s a cop on the other side of the mirror with Dad and I in the room, me on one side of the table and him on the other. In movies like those, the criminal always cuts a deal with the cops. Let’s say, a juicer piece of news for their freedom?
“I can give you something else,” I say, wondering how in the world I’m going to pull this off.
“What is it?”
“There’s a drug trail that runs down to the US, and it’s being pushed by Ciro’s name. I will tell you where to find their hideout and catch the person involved.”
“Vida, I promised to keep that family away from the authorities. I can’t bust anything illegal that ties to them, even if I want to. They’re protecting us,” he tries to explain.
“It isn’t Ciro you’ll be busting, Dad. He isn’t the one moving the drugs. I promise I’ll explain better later. Please trust me.”
Another few seconds of silence.
“I’ll send you his number. But, Vida . . . be careful.” His warning lingers in the air just as I hear footsteps behind me. I whip around, heart pounding, only to see Ciro standing there, arms crossed, watching me with those calculating eyes.
“I have to go, Dad. Thanks.” I hang up quickly, pocketing my phone as Ciro steps closer, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Who were you talking to?” he asks, watching me closely. He’s either playing dumb or he really doesn’t know something’s up.
I force a small smile, hoping it looks as innocent as I intend it to look.
“Just my dad. Nothing important,” I lie, looking at everything else except him, especially not his eyes that I’ve wanted to fall into, to bask inside till I knew what they looked like without his contact lenses.
He doesn’t look convinced when I do look up at him, and I hope he won’t bother with me. It’s normal for him to not dig into anything with me, except when I’m in trouble. For once today I want it to be like how it was when he couldn’t care less. I don’t want it to be like a few days ago, when he looked at me like I was someone he couldn’t stop staring at . . . like I mattered to him.
“Little chaos,” he calls softly, making my eyes finally meet and hold his. That name is like a magnet, no matter how much I try to resist, it draws me in to the only person who calls me that; him. And I’m certain he knows that as well.
“You’ve been acting strange lately. Is there something I should know?” His question falls on my ears like a bomb and all I can do is pray he won’t see my secrets swimming in my eyes.
Just before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a text from Carmela. It’s the perfect escape I need, so I clutch the phone and flash him a weak smile. “I really need to go. Carmela’s waiting.”
“I will find out, little chaos,” Ciro says, his voice low as it sends a promise I pray he won’t keep. I don’t dare turn to face him, too afraid that if I do, he’ll see everything in my gaze and all the effort to protect him will be nothing but a stupid girl’s plan.
In the car, Carmela sits waiting, leaning over the steering wheel with a mischievous smirk. “Well? Did you get it?”
Why on earth does this make her happy? I’m about to have heart attacks every morning when I open my eyes, yet this excites her?
“I did. Dad said he’d send me a number soon. So I hope it works out.”
“What will you tell him or her? I need to speak to your boss now?” she asks with a chuckle.
“Yes, pretty much it,” I shrug, watching Carmela laugh.
As I’m about to respond and stop her from laughing, my phone rings, showing a number I don’t recognize. Something in me freezes, hoping it isn’t Mr. Raymond calling to ask for his update.
“I need to take this,” I mutter to Carmela, who just nods at me before I get out of the car to answer.
“Vida,” a smooth, thickly-accented voice seeps through the phone, sending a chill down my spine. I know a Russian accent when I hear one, but for some weird reason, I know this isn’t the informant Dad had talked about.
“Yes?” I reply, waiting for his next response.
“I hear there’s a new addition to the Ballera family with a keen interest in meeting me,” he says, and I can hear the faint sound of chuckle that escapes his lips.
My heart skips a beat. It’s him. It’s Vladimir Trofimov.
“Why the sudden curiosity?” he asks, a teasing edge to his words.
I clear my throat, keeping my voice steady. “This isn’t something I can talk about over the phone.”
There’s a low chuckle from his end, dark and amused.
“And here I thought you were just another pretty face. What if I say I’m busy?” he asks, sounding like he’s enjoying himself.
“I’ll say you’ll be pissed if you don’t meet me,” I shoot back.
I hear him laugh lightly before replying again. “I sure will. Very well, you’ve piqued my interest.”
“I have?” I arch a brow, sounding more excited than I’d intended.
“Now I’m wondering who’s more excited to see who,” he chuckles. “Yes you have, so tomorrow then.”
“Wait! Where and when do I meet you?” I ask, my mind going a mile a minute to try to figure out how I’ll make it work.
“You’ll know soon enough. It’s a date, Vida. Look nice for me.”
“It’s not . . .” I start to protest, but he hangs up before I can.
I close my eyes, steadying myself before I climb back into the car. Carmela eyes me, her expression digging holes into my soul.
“Who was that?” she asks.
I look at her, my pulse still pounding. “Vladimir. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”
I watch as her jaw drops, her usual confidence briefly replaced by shock. “You just . . . you actually spoke to him? Like he called you, out of nowhere?”
She almost sounds more impressed than shocked.
“Yes,” I exhale, my mind reeling as I realize what I’ve just set in motion.
“A date with Vladimir Trofimov. This just keeps getting better and better,” she squeals with excitement.
“It’s not a date! Why do you two keep saying that?” I exhale, the thought of Ciro filling my mind.
“‘Cause it is! Let’s go pick a dress for you,” she laughs, tapping her hands on the steering wheel in excitement.
“What did you tell Ciro?” I ask as we get closer to the address Vladimir sent me.
“Girl’s night out, nothing else,” she says.
There’s something off about her response, and I can tell there is more she isn’t saying. A part of me fears she’s told Ciro everything.
“Cam, you didn’t . . .” I began, my worry coming out with the three words.
“No! What? And take away all the fun? Of course not! He told me something and I’m trying to wrap my head around it,” she says and it looks like it isn’t something she’ll tell me even if I ask, so I leave it at that.
“We’re here! You’ll have to walk from here, the place is filled with his men,” she says, looking around the surrounding area, making me cautious too.
“Really? I don’t see anyone,” I reply.
“You’ll get the hang of it soon,” she chuckles. “Have fun on your date and come out alive, please.”
I give her a hug before getting out and watching her leave. Taking a deep breath and hoping this night turns out how I’ve planned, I finally turn and walk toward the building, heading to the man who will either make my plans perfect or will make Ciro have my head.
“Vida Thorne . . . or should I say, Ballera,” the man who opens the door to the VIP lounge says. I stand here staring at him, feeling like I’ve just seen a being from heaven or hell.
“Mr. Vladimir,” I nod, giving him a light smile before stepping into the room.
The room is lavishly decorated, with dim lighting that casts shadows across Vladimir’s face as he walks towards the table and pulls out the chair for me, a warm smile plastered on his face with his sharp gaze glued to me. He looks older than Ciro, muscular and tall, with the kind of presence that demands attention. The piercings in his ears and the dark green suit makes him look every bit the part of a Russian mobster, yet there is something unexpectedly refined about him. Unlike Ciro, who keeps his guard up, Vladimir seems almost . . . welcoming? I could stare at him like he was a movie, a good movie you didn’t want to stop watching. But I can’t help but notice that every feature of his doesn’t stand a chance next to Ciro.
“Sit, please,” he says, drawing out the chair for me to take a seat. I can’t tell if he’s playing with me or if he really is this nice. I like it, but Carmela did warn me not to let my guard down.
“Thank you,” I reply as I settle into the chair. His gaze lingers for a moment before he takes his own seat, that unnerving smile never leaving his face.
“Brown looks perfect on you, Vida.” He smiles even wider, staring at my dress. Is this man flirting with me right now? Or is he just being nice? I can’t figure out which, considering I’ve spent the last few months with a man like Ciro, who is always brooding and angry about some silly thing. The thought almost makes me smile, but I stop midway as I catch Vladimir staring at me, reading my expressions.
“We need to talk,” I begin, stretching to grab my bag and pull out my phone. But instead, he holds up a hand.
“Let’s eat first,” he says casually with a smile. “It’ll help with the nerves.”
He must be able to see how tense I am, something I’ve been trying my best to hide. I don’t know if I should like that he’s noticed it or be worried that he has. Either way, I keep my mouth shut and watch him signal for the waiter. Clearly, I’m not getting straight to business. I might as well have some food.
I clench my hands in my lap, trying to slow my racing heartbeat. The plan has to go smoothly, I can’t afford to mess this up.
Vladimir catches my gaze, a glitter of something in his emerald green eyes, that has me feeling a little uneasy.
“You’re breathtaking,” he says calmly, no doubt in his words. Or maybe he’s a good liar? “I see why your husband kept a tracker on you.”
“Excuse me?” I question, his words taking me by surprise.
A low chuckle rumbles from him as he leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let’s talk about that later. I promise you’ll love the food,” he says as it arrives.
I force myself to smile as we eat. Vladimir keeps the conversation light, asking about hobbies and dislikes. Even though it is far from what I’d had in mind to talk about, he is right, it does help with the nerves.
Finally, as he finishes his last bite, he wipes his mouth with deliberate slowness and leans back.
“Now,” he says, his tone dropping. “What is it you wanted to see me about? Don’t want you to keep all the excitement to yourself.”
Here it is, the moment of truth. I take a breath, stealing myself for what’s to come, and launch into my carefully prepared story.
“It’s about Raymond,” I begin, watching his expression closely.
“Who?” he arches his brow, looking confused.
“Vito?” I correct, realizing Raymond isn’t exactly the name he uses.
“Oh! What about the old nag?” he asks, urging me to continue.
“He’s using you, Vladimir. He’s been cutting from the drug profit, taking more than he should. Plus, the drug you’re helping him push under the Mafia’s name is going to his own pockets. The people you’re selling to work for him, so it’s a three-sixty turn of profit to him.” I take a deep breath and watch for his reaction.
Vladimir’s face darkens and he tilts his head, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. “And you know this how?”
I unlock my phone, swiping to the photos I’d taken of Raymond’s files, showing his siphoning of funds. Vladimir takes the phone, his jaw clenching as he scans the images, and a dangerous silence hangs in the air as he processes the betrayal. Finally, he sets the phone down and looks at me, suspicion flickering in his gaze.
“So tell me,” he says slowly, his voice smooth as silk. “Why are you bringing this to me?”
“I need him out of the picture. He’s sabotaging my husband’s business. So, I figured you’d like to handle him yourself.” I shrug. “I don’t see why you too have to suffer.”
I hold his stare, forcing my voice to remain steady.
“If he succeeds, he’ll leave you and Ciro in the dust. Ciro’s work gets messed up and you lose a whole lot of money. I’m offering you a way to handle him while Ciro focuses on the casino.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “It’s a win-win situation really.”
For a moment, Vladimir just watches me, a hint of a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. Then he lets out a low laugh, truly amused by me, or maybe impressed?
“Using me to take out your husband’s enemy. Clever.” He taps his fingers on the table, feigning a moment of thought.
“Plus, I hate when people mess with business,” he adds, looking irritated as fuck. It’s an expression I know all too well.
“So? Are we partners now?” I ask, wondering why that question slipped out of my mouth. I’m getting way too excited, way too fast.
He laughs, genuinely laughs, like I’d cracked the funniest joke on earth.
“No darling, we aren’t partners.” His words hit hard. I hadn’t expected us to be in the first place, but how he said it just breaks my heart for some reason.
“But . . .” I start, taking my phone as he passes it to me.
“We can be friends,” he says, smiling warmly and making everything in me warm like jelly.
I like him. I like Vladimir very much.
“Friends,” I repeat the word, liking how it feels on my lips. I watch him nod at me, agreeing to it.
“I like the sound of friends,” I continue.
“But I have a request.”
Fuck!
“I’m not sleeping with you, Vladimir,” I say casually, hoping I’m not taking undue advantage of the ‘friends’ card. But as he laughs again, I know he is having fun too.
“I don’t sleep with my friends, Vida,” he chuckles as I raise a brow. “Well, not all of them.”
A laugh escapes my lips before I ask, “so, what’s your request?”
He leans in slowly, his gaze gleaming with intrigue. “Invite me to the casino opening so I can say goodbye to you and maybe offer a business deal to your husband.”
That’s what he wants? An invitation? Well sure! Dashing him a smile, I nod. “Would you please come for the casino opening?”
“Oh yes, I’d love to,” he chuckles.
The remaining time spent together is filled with us laughing about marriage, family, and random things. Neither of us gives too much, only enough to have a conversation. At this point, I’m certain I’ve let my guard down, but it doesn’t seem to be a problem. From what I can tell, Vladimir has done the same too.
As I stand to leave, he takes my hand, brushing a light kiss across my knuckles, his grip lingering just a second too long.
“Thank you for gracing me with your presence, Vida. I can see how lucky Ciro is,” he smiles, making me chuckle.
“Thank you for having me. See you soon?”
“I’m dying to see you again, for sure. Carmela Ballera will be outside waiting. Next time, invite her in.” He winks.
It feels like my cover’s been blown, but with him, I don’t have to feel worried about it. I’m just too excited that my plan is finally coming together. Now all I have to do is give Raymond the information he needs tomorrow. The same information that will lead him right into Vladimir’s hands.