Page 25 of Ruby Menace

My frown deepens. “So?”

“Well, there’s no easy way to say this, darling, so forgive me if I sound raw.” She draws a deep breath and looks me in the eye as if she’s waiting for a reaction. “When Kirill was sent to straighten your father out, he did it by killing your mother.”

I gasp so sharply that I start to choke.

Suddenly, I can’t find breath, my eyes watering as I try to regain my composure, coughing and spluttering. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and I pull away from her.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know this must come as a shock.” Her tone is soothing without a drop of sincerity to it.

Still trying to gather my surroundings, I back away from her. I stop when I bump into a small wrought iron chair, and put my hand onto the back of it to stabilize myself. “Why are you telling me this? Why should I believe you?” I choke out, fighting tears.

“I thought you might say that. Which is why I brought this.” She reaches into her oversized purse and pulls out a folded-up sheaf of papers. She holds it out to me.

I stare down at it for a moment. When I don’t take the pages, she shakes them slightly.

“I know this is a lot to take in, darling. But it’s not going to go away just because you want to ignore it.” She gives me an encouraging smile.

I want to slap her, tell her that she’s a liar and then run away, but I find myself reaching for the paper instead.

“The light is better over there.” She nods toward where a light is shining over a nearby table. I ignore her, squinting at the printed pages. It only takes me a moment before I’m reaching out for the back of the chair again. And then I slump onto it. The cold metal isn’t nearly as icy as the grip on my chest.

“It’s a transcript. From the FBI archives,” Zoya says, taking a seat across from me. She wrinkles her nose as she flicks away a cigarette butt, then reaches over and taps a red fingernail on an official FBI logo and stamp at the top of the page. “As you can see, the contents are self-explanatory.

I don’t respond. I’m too busy reading the details of a wire-tapped phone call between Kirill and someone called Oleg Solokov, who is described in the report as his boss at the time.

“What about Avants?” Solokov had said.

“I got it. No problem,” had been Kirill’s response.

“You didn’t waste him, did you? That would be bad for business.”

Kirill’s reply is what has my heart pounding in my throat.

“Not Avants. I focused on the wife. She’s been taken care of.”

I realize that I’m fighting for breath, and I try to pull myself together. There’s no way I’m going to have a panic attack in front of Zoya. But my entire body is shaking as I try to take in everything that’s laid out in front of me. My eyes continue moving down the page until the words start to blur. I glance again at the top where the logo and the stamp are. “Federal Bureau of Investigation,” it reads. When I feel like I’ve seen enough, I fold the pages and set them on the table in front of me.

“How did you get this?” My voice comes out as a breathless whisper as I glare at the woman sitting across from me.

“That is not important.”

“It is to me! Tell me where you found this information?”

“Look.” She lifts a hand. “I’ve already told you more than what’s safe.”

“More than what’s safe?” I narrow my eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“It is to me!” she sneers. “All I am saying is that you are walking on dangerous territory, Tiana. As long as you’re in Kirill’s world, your life and everyone that’s important to you is in danger.”

I rub my eyes, still trying to process everything I just learned.

“How do I know it’s not fake?” I want proof. I want some sort of assurance that this is all real.

Zoya gives a little laugh. “You really want to think the best of him, don’t you?” She shrugs. “No matter. If you cannot see sense, at least I can leave here knowing I did my best.”

“Your best?” I give a humorless laugh. “To do what? Get rid of me so you can try your luck with Kirill?”

“I don’t need luck for that, girl,” she snaps, giving me a villainous glance. “I’m his wife, remember? And you’re someone he bought at an auction, glupaya devchonka.”

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