Page 78 of Cruel Love

“Hey, Markov,” I greet.

He waves to dismiss the guards around us. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

I slowly rise off the floor. “We came to talk to Luka,” I answer.

“We?”

I look at the others and he sidles toward them. He yanks the hoods off Dante and Lucy’s heads. She flinches with fear while Dante sits there, calm as stone with a furrowed, bruised brow.

“This is Lucy and Dante,” I say. “They’re with me.”

Markov immediately walks around and leans down to cut Lucy’s hands free. “They are snakes? Like you?” he asks, extending his hand to her.

Her eyes bounce from his to mine and I signal for her to take it. She does and he helps her off the floor.

“Yes, but I give you my word,” I say. “I wouldn’t bring them here with me if they meant trouble.”

One of his men steps forward and slices my zip-tie open before doing the same for Dante.

Markov chews on his lip. “What do you want?”

I glance at his men standing all around the warehouse. “It’s sensitive,” I say. His brow twitches. “Just let us talk to Luka. He’ll want to hear this.”

Markov hesitates for less than a second before nodding. “Okay. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you.”

He rubs his stubbled chin. “Eh, sorry about this...” He gestures around innocently. “They bring me a snake, I kill it.”

I pat his shoulder. “It’s all right, Markov.”

He waves the three of us along and points toward the black car parked outside. “Follow me,” he says.

Dante steps over to me and exhales hard. “That was close,” he says.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“How’d you know he’d be the one to pick us up?”

I shrug before stepping forward. “I didn’t.”

He reaches for Lucy’s hand and squeezes it tightly as we follow Markov outside.

* * *

“Bozhe moi!”

The voice cries out from the top of the stairwell the second we step into the foyer of the Lutrova estate.

I look up at Nina Lutrova, feeling an instant smile stretch across my face as she stares down at me with a sagging jaw.

“Madam Lutrova,” I greet.

She descends the stairs slowly, her eyes scanning each face. They linger a little longer on Dante’s as she sizes him up. I recall her doing the same to me the first time I set foot on the estate. Maybe this time, I’ll fare a little better than an old couch in a cold storage room.

Nina reaches the bottom and squints at me. “You look different,” she says. “Why do you look different? Where have you been?”

“Los Angeles,” I answer.

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