Chapter 5 #2
“What does Kirill have on you?”
When I didn’t answer, he asked, “Is he trying a fake relationship with you to distract Peter from blaming him for Viktor’s death?”
Oh my God, there were so many fabricated details of the deaths to keep track of. Say less, Lucy. “It’s really complicated.”
“I told Peter to keep Viktor far away from Davenport.”
“Then why was Viktor here?” I handed Luca a mug of coffee, which he gratefully accepted although he was vibrating with aggravation. Peter and Luca went a long way back. My uncle helped Peter overthrow the former pakhan of the Moscow mob. Maybe there was lingering loyalty between them.
Luca snorted and took a sip of coffee. “Because Viktor is his killing machine who is crazy enough to do anything Peter wants. In return, he wants to keep his brother happy. Also, Peter wants to put pressure on Kirill after the Zahkarov bratva landed in hot water with the feds.”
“But it wasn’t Kirill in charge then.”
“In Peter’s eyes, a bratva is viewed as the sum of its parts, and I agree with him.
If you ask me, Peter was hoping to install Viktor as part of the Zahkarov bratva, hoping to gain a semblance of control.
Wishful thinking on his part because Kirill is a cold son of a bitch and no one’s puppet.
He’d blow up his bratva to pieces before handing it over to Moscow. ”
“You think so?” I asked. Even my uncle thought Kirill was the type who would destroy something rather than relinquish it. I’d gotten in over my head. My brother’s voice came back to haunt me.
You keep on skating into shit expecting me to fix it.
Not this time. I pinched my shoulder blades together.
I must have shown my thoughts on my face because Luca looked at me strangely.
Uh-oh.
He narrowed his eyes, and his lips curled back in restrained fury. “Did that motherfucker hurt you?”
“No!” I said emphatically, and I might have overcompensated because he was still looking at me suspiciously.
“The events don’t line up with where we left off last night. You were following Davenport into the club.”
“Viktor wasn’t there, so he went home. I heard this morning that he OD’d.”
“And in the meantime, Viktor had a shootout with state troopers, and he and two of his men were killed.”
“They found cocaine and illegal weapons in his trunk, I think.”
“What happened to your phone?” Luca walked to the French doors and stared outside. There was nothing to stare at except Upper East Side buildings and trees.
“I lost it. I must have dropped it at the club. It was a Friday night and packed. I barely caught up with Davenport.”
“Hmm…”
The humming sound from my uncle wasn’t a good sign, nor was the set of his shoulders. When he turned around, there wasn’t a trace of the concern I’d seen earlier. I stepped back. This was his boss face. It reminded me of Kirill’s bland look. “Try again, cara, and this time, don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying!” I snapped. “And don’t try that interrogation crap on me.”
“I hardly asked you any questions.”
My hand shook and I lowered my coffee before I spilled it. This was the full force of Luca’s don face. I crossed my arms to keep myself steady. “Since you don’t believe me, why don’t you tell me what you think happened?”
My uncle promptly launched into his conjecture.
“Viktor killed Davenport, and since you were with him, he took you hostage but didn’t kill you.
He destroyed your phone. He was still deciding what to do with you and Davenport’s body.
Asked Kirill for help. In the meantime, state troopers stopped the car.
Viktor, being trigger-happy and because he didn’t want to get arrested, shot and killed the state troopers.
Now you’re a witness to the killing of law enforcement.
I don’t know what was going on in Kirill’s mind because, from what I heard, he always wanted you dead.
It was Kirill who killed Viktor and his men or he gave the order.
But having a dead Davenport in Viktor’s car would raise more questions than simply ratcheting it down to a simple illegal weapons and drug stop. So Kirill moved Davenport’s body.”
“And you think his wife would simply go along with this?” I asked incredulously. Of course I was curious, but I chalked it up to mafia intimidation for now.
Luca gave a brief derisive laugh. “I forget you don’t know Anya Davenport. She and Kirill grew up together in Russia.”
“Were…were they lovers?” I asked.
“Hmm…” And I could actually see the conclusion forming on his face.
“What?” I pressed.
“Now that Davenport’s dead, Kirill doesn’t want the suspicion to fall on him and Anya for plotting her husband’s demise, so he’s using you as a distraction.
Have a fake relationship with you until a decent amount of time has passed before riding off into the sunset with the bonus of Davenport’s fortune. ”
Oh, that motherfucking, wily bastard. He didn’t waste time scheming. Before I incriminated myself by accepting my uncle’s theory, I gave a careless shoulder shrug. “That’s an interesting story, but that’s not what happened.”
“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” Oh, Luca knew I was bullshitting, but his face wasn’t as severe anymore. In fact, it gentled, and the tender concern returned to his eyes. He sighed. “That’s all right, Lucia. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Awww…”
I stepped into my uncle and gave him a hug.
Just then, the lock to my apartment rattled before it opened, and Dom stepped in.
It was early in the morning, barely nine, but usually my brother never left his penthouse looking anything but suave. Right now, he was in jeans, a half-haphazardly tucked-in tee, and I didn’t think he’d even taken a shower.
“Are you all right?” He stalked straight toward me, pulled me from my uncle’s arms, and squeezed me so tight, I yelped.
“I will be once I recover my blood circulation.”
He drew back and studied my face before he gave me a head-to-toe appraisal, and his brows scrunched in annoyance. “You’re dressed like you’re about to attend a fancy brunch while I was going out of my goddamn mind this morning.”
“As you can see, I’m fine. I lost my phone.”
“Uh-huh.” Dom stepped back and crossed his arms. “Doesn’t explain why your tracker was disabled.”
Luca stood beside my brother. “Your tracker was disabled?”
“What? She didn’t tell you?”
I was going to retort that it malfunctioned, but I was already squatting on a pile of lies that were starting to reek. And one thing I’d learned about fabricating lies was you didn’t want to tell too many of them before you ended up contradicting yourself.
Not to mention I had the dons of both the Moretti and De Lucci crime families giving me an interrogation.
“Kirill,” I said. “He said he didn’t want you tracking me anymore.” Still a lie, but closer to the truth.
“What the fuck is Kirill’s game? And what was that display in front of his house this morning?” Dom asked in a raised tone. “You kissed him. And don’t tell me you’re having a secret relationship because I know you two can’t stand each other.”
“He’s blackmailing her or something,” Luca said.
“Or something.” I shot them a warning glare. “Don’t go badmouthing my future husband.”
The way their jaws slackened and their eyes widened was picture-worthy. I had the oddest desire to laugh or to run away.
I’d never rendered Luca speechless before. I braced for an explosion, but I beat them to it.
“Kirill and I have signed an intent to marry. Margo Winthrop should inform Dad and Mamma shortly.”