Chapter 35
G regor
“Gregor Romanovich, it is good to see you, my friend,” Boris said. He gave me a quick embrace and gestured to a couple of chairs in his study.
I remained standing.
Despite Boris’ warm greeting, he was anxious. There was a tightness around his mouth, and his eyes were open too wide.
Shrugging, Boris reached for a cigar, then turned and offered me one.
I declined, unbuttoning my suit jacket and leaning against his desk. Watching.
Boris sat before the dying embers of a fire and flicked open a silver lighter. Although he pretended to be absorbed in the task, his beady gaze traveled to me repeatedly. By the time the cigar was lit, he had burnt the end, adding an acrid sting to the sweet smoke that briefly enveloped his head.
Taking a long puff, he brushed some ash off his pant leg before saying, “I was happy to learn you found my daughter. We can now conclude our business. We both have got what we wanted, no?”
“And Novikoff?”
Boris lowered his cigar. “Novikoff? What does my old friend have to do with this?”
“Boris, are you going to try to tell me you didn’t make a second deal for your daughter’s hand in marriage to Egor Novikoff?”
He dropped the cigar onto the rather expensive Persian rug. Without caring, Boris rose and crushed it out with his shoe, grinding the hot ash into the fibers as he raised placating hands.
“Please, Gregor. Please, you must believe me. I would never betray you or your father’s memory that way.”
My brow furrowed. I was very good at reading people.
I needed to be in this line of business.
Complete trust was impossible but knowing when I could trust someone just enough not to kill me was important.
I could almost believe he was telling the truth.
Boris was not that good of a liar. Plus, it might explain why none of my surveillance picked up the two old bastards plotting to kidnap Samara or even talking about her.
I kept my voice low and controlled. “Someone has given Egor Novikoff the dangerously misguided impression that Samara belongs to him. As I am sure you can understand, this greatly angers me. Bad things happen when I’m angry. ”
Boris wiped his brow with the sleeve of his suit. “Gregor, I swear on my dear mother’s grave, I know nothing about… Wait. No, no, no…”
I straightened. “What?”
“It’s not possible. It would be too great a betrayal.”
“Start talking, Boris.”
All my attention was on him. I needed to resolve this issue, and quickly. I wouldn’t stand for my wife to be in danger for another moment.
Just as he opened his mouth, he looked over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
I turned my head… then everything went black.