FOURTEEN
MARISA
Ipull at the neckline of this unreasonably cut dress for the nine millionth time this evening.
Part of me wonders if Felicity just has really horrible taste in clothing or if she put me in this gold monstrosity as some extra form of punishment.
The sweeping silk fabric is a warm rich bronze color that is not complementary to my skin tone.
The fabric is thin and unforgiving, showing off every single roll and ripple in my flesh.
And the neckline, oh this fucking neckline—a deep sweeping cascade of too much silk which hangs from my shoulders and pools low on my chest. One wrong move and the party hats are gonna be popping out tonight.
The shoes are bejeweled sky-high stilettos that feel as though they might snap under my weight with every single step.
Felicity might be a very specific type of evil genius.
“Such a shame your lovely wife couldn’t join us tonight, Mikhael,” I snark to the man on my left before taking another sip of champagne.
“Oh, I would never bring my wife here, little thief,” he replies, his dark eyes never leaving the crowd around us. He’s looking for something… or someone. “This is a den of wolves. And she,” his gaze flashes to me, giving me a pointed look, “She is worth keeping safe.”
I roll my eyes, but internally, the bubbles sour in my stomach.
Unease rolls through me. The street kid in me wants to kick these heels off and run.
Sometimes survival means running from the monsters that you know you can’t defeat.
But unfortunately, I seem to have found myself in a situation I can’t run from. Anxiety spills from my pores.
“Who are you looking for?” I ask Mikhael, desperate to change the subject.
“The Pakhan,” he replies as he continues to scan the crowd.
I stare out at the men and women littering the lavish ballroom.
Two days ago, Mikhael had received an invite from the head of The Organizatsiya himself, inviting Mikhael to a party to celebrate their recent success in some, probably wildly illegal, part of their business.
My captors were overjoyed to have the opportunity to put my thievery skills to the test. I was less overjoyed at the prospect, but a captive’s gotta do what they have to do, right?
All of the people here look posh, sophisticated, polished.
But the quick flashes of steel tucked against sides, and black Cyrillic script littering skin not covered by clothing tells the truth of who these people are and the very dangerous position I’m currently in.
“Want to tell me what he looks like so I can help you search?” I ask Mikhael, desperate to do anything but just stand here.
“No.”
Cool.
“So what’s the plan then,” I persist. Maybe if I annoy him endlessly he’ll just let me go… or he’ll shoot me. I’m hoping for the former. “You play ‘I Spy the Mafia Boss’ while I stand here looking pretty?”
He shoots me a glare. “If your job is to look pretty, then you’re making a barely passable attempt,” he snarks as he takes a swig of his vodka.
Dick.
“Mikhael,” a voice calls from behind us. The tone is snide and smooth. It reminds me of something serpentine. “I remember your wife looking quite different. Finally caved and bought a mistress?”
Bought? God, these guys suck.
Mikhael spins on his heel, placing a mask of indifference on his square, bearded face.
I follow his motion, turning to face the intruder.
Standing behind us is a man that makes my skin crawl.
He has tanned skin and pale hair, which might very possibly be a bad hair piece.
His face is angular and gaunt. He has a goatee wrapping from his upper lip, around his lips, and down his pointed chin.
But it’s his eyes that truly chill me. His icy gaze is filled with simmering rage.
Despite his lean stature, I have no doubt this man is dangerous.
“Aleksander,” Mikhael greets coolly. “I’m surprised to see you here tonight. I heard you’d been sent on a special assignment.”
The newcomer’s eyes flash with some type of emotion I can’t quite peg. He seems angry and excited. My entire body is begging me to flee, recognizing the threat that this man poses.
“As the Pakhan’s right hand man, I would not be anywhere else tonight,” Aleksander says with each word enunciated slowly and precisely in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“And where is nachal’nik?” Mikhael asks casually, as if he hasn’t been looking for the leader of the Bratva all night.
“Preoccupied,” Aleksander responds as his gaze turns to me. I resist the urge to recoil in discomfort. “Not your usual type, medved.”
“Who I fuck is none of your business,” Mikhael responds coldly before I can open my mouth. “Come,” he states as he offers me his outstretched arm. I gladly accept and let him lead me away.
“The Falcon,” Mikhael whispers to me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “The man we’re here to bring down.”
My arm is looped through his elbow as we weave through couples and crowds.
Occasionally, Mikhael nods to someone, but we do not stop to speak to others as he guides me across the ballroom.
I look over my shoulder, making sure we’re not being tracked, but Aleksander is wrapped up in a conversation with a big chested blonde woman.
My heels click against the black marble floor as we slowly make our way around the outside of the large ballroom.
The decor here is much nicer. Clearly, the Pakhan has better taste than Felicity.
“Do you have a plan?” I whisper-yell into his bicep. “Besides sipping whiskey and looking like a grumpy brute?”
“We’re going to break into the Pakhan’s office,” Mikhael begins to explain.
Nope.
“Steal his ring. The Solentsevskaya Sem’ya ring.”
Absolutely not.
“Then you’re going to place it on The Falcon.”
Fuck no.
“When the Pakhan sees Aleksander with his ring, he’ll think he’s trying to start a coup, will eliminate The Falcon, and make me his number two.”
I stop dead in my tracks, pulling Mikhael, who spins, to look at me. My mouth hangs open slightly as I try to formulate words to express how utterly ridiculous this plan is.
“That plan is fucking stupid,” I balk. Apparently, I’m not going tactful on this one. But seriously—is this a Scooby-Doo movie?
“The plan is not stupid, malen’kiy krolik.
” His voice is a low growl of warning as he turns on me, stepping into my face and looming over me.
His meaty fingers reach out, clasping around my face, and digging into my cheeks.
“Aleksander has been ignoring the Pakhan’s orders.
” His voice is so low and quiet that I can barely hear it even though he’s right in front of me.
“I’ve been trying to catch him in the act but I’ve failed so far.
He’s been stealing from the Brotherhood, funneling money to himself.
” A thief among thieves—I’m shocked. “And he’s been getting involved in the skin trade under the Pakhan’s own nose. ”
That information sends a chill down my spine. Stealing money from rich assholes is one thing, taking innocence from those who have no voice in the system is a special level of evil. My resolve sets in.
“The Pakhan doesn’t approve of selling humans?” I ask.
“Absolutely not,” Mikhael spits back almost instantly, his nostrils flaring.
“Selling guns to men, stealing from the wealthy, running counterfeit goods through shipping yards—those are our primary means of business. The Pakhan himself has personally taken it upon himself to eliminate any from The Organizatsiya who would dare hurt women or children.”
Something inside me falters. I should really, really hate these men, and yet… perhaps there’s honor among some thieves.
“That’s how I met Felicity. She was a young woman that Aleksander had kidnapped.
He was going to sell her. I found her cold and alone and scared in the back of a truck one night when I stopped him to talk.
I’m not sure what it was, maybe the way she looked at me—pleading for the pain to stop, but I wouldn’t let him take her.
I took her home. She never left.” He shrugs, letting go of my face.
“Yet, you kidnapped me,” I accuse him as I pop a hip and glare, trying to appear less moved than I am.
“I did not hurt you, did I?”
He’s not wrong. I may not like Mikhael, and I certainly have a lot of feelings about Felicity. But they’re not evil. I recognized the feeling of disgust and instant panic when I was near The Falcon.
“Fine,” I relent. “We will try your stupid plan. But—” I level him with the most serious look I can manage. “You can’t let Aleksander leave with me. I can’t—I won’t.” My voice breaks as I try to find the words.
“You have my word, malen’kiy krolik.”
I swallow down the bubbling anxiety at the thought of being near a man like that again, one who takes what isn’t his to take. If this plan saves even one young woman from having something stolen from her soul, then I’ll do it.
“Lead the way, Wolf.”