Page 48 of Emerald Vices

“Let’s not forget Nikolai.”

I scowl. “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten about the bastard. But first things first: I have to deal with Slavik and his takeover bid before I can concentrate on snuffing out the Rostov threat. Speaking of which…”

Shura shakes his head. “No news on that front. The man has retreated into the shadows.”

“Which means he’s planning something.”

Shura’s phone rings, and I don’t miss the way he tenses before declining the call and placing the phone on the table screen side down.

“Who was that?”

“No one,” he answers quickly. I arch a brow and he grimaces. “Katya.”

I’ve known the man long enough now that I know when he’s keeping something from me. “Everything alright between the two of you?”

“Sure, sure. She’s just been busting my balls lately. Don’t wanna deal with it.”

He picks up his empty whiskey glass and brings it to his lips. Then he realizes there’s nothing in it and reaches for the bottle.

I beat him to it, yanking the bottle out of his reach. “Now that we’ve got the lies out of the way, you can tell me what’s really going on.”

Shura swallows. He drops his arm and leans back against his seat. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” he admits. “All you need to know is that you don’t need to be concerned.”

Again, Shura’s phone rings, and he flips it over with a groan, Natalia’s name clearly visible on the screen.

“Go on,” I growl. “Answer it.”

Shura eyes me warily, but he answers. “Nat, this isn’t a good time.”

I can’t really make out what she’s saying. The club we’re in is too noisy and she’s speaking fast.

“I don’t know about tomorrow,” Shura tells her. “Maybe Tuesday.” After a beat, he sighs. “Oh, alright. I’ll make time tomorrow.” He hangs up and glares at me. “You didn’t hear any of that.”

I cross my heart with a sardonic smile and hand him the bottle. “Not a word.”

Shura fills his glass and takes another drink, watching me over the rim.

“I had work for you tomorrow, but I’d hate to double-book you,” I say casually. “When will you be busy?”

He downs the rest of his glass and sags back in his chair. “I won’t be available at four tomorrow afternoon.”

Perfect.

I may know what time Shura is busy, but that doesn’t stop me from having to wander from room to room to track the two of them down.

I’m on the second floor when I happen to glance out the window and spot them in the far corner of the back lawn.

I tear through the house and stick close to the wall as I make my way towards them, hoping they won’t see me. I doubt they’re looking for spies, though. They chose the most secluded area of the garden, and it’s been so overtaken with plants and trees that it provides the perfect coverage—unless you happen to look out of one particular second-floor window.

“Easy, Nat,” Shura cautions. “Remember, if you panic, the gun becomes a liability.”

Using the trees as cover, I creep as close as I can to their meeting spot without being seen. There’s still about ten feet between us when I settle in to watch the show.

Right now, the show is Natalia with her hands wrapped around a gun, her brow scrunched tight in concentration.

The last time I saw her with a gun, it was aimed at my chest. This time, she’s pointing it at a target set up a dozen feet away. One bullet hole is already flapping in the wind.

“Ready?” Shura asks.

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