Page 71 of Koroleva

"And what if it's your father?" I asked cautiously. Romeo flinched.

"Then we'll have a serious problem. I hope with all my heart that it's not the case. My father is a bastard, we both know he always wanted to push out the Russians so everything would be ours, but I'd like to think he has some principles and wouldn't play with the lives of people who are neither here nor there. We'll see where all this takes us." He patted my shoulder. "Good job, Aleksa. Now go to the port with Andrey and cheer up my wife. It wouldn't be good for anyone if the Colombians' shipment couldn't enter the port."

"At your command, boss."

29

Go with her

Aleksa y Andrey left together and I returned to the garden.

Nikita was waiting for me, angry, with the breakfast cold on the table.

—¿No tienes hambre? —pregunté, acomodándome a su lado.

"Are you not hungry?" I asked, sitting down next to her.

"There are things that can kill my appetite. Like finding out that my husband is capable of drugging my trusted man to extract confidential information."

My little wife was not one to beat around the bush. I let out a humorless laugh.

"Confidential information? What do you think this is, the CIA? What you hid was the real reason you gave me the 'I do,' and I deserved to know it to decide if I wanted to tie my life to a woman who was going to be ticking me off all the time," I clarified. "And, on the other hand, I don't know why you're so surprised, you knew you weren't marrying a nun; you should thank me for not killing him afterwards and throwing him in a swamp."

"Sorry, dear, for not doing it, I forgot you were going to be a priest and you were more about giving the last rites."

"In that, we are alike, shall we start counting the dead? Because I get the impression that you've already completed the collection." I filled two cups with steaming coffee; I needed to clear my head.

"I don't like being taken for a fool," she hissed.

"I think I've taken you for many things, but never for a fool. Although you should change your informants if you really believe I'm behind everything."

"Well, to be honest, yes, I do believe it," she said, pointing her eyes at me, direct and blunt. It was one of the things that fascinated me most about her; if you caught her, she didn't hide, she assumed the consequences to the end.

"And why didn't you tell my father that? That you accepted to pull the rug out and not because of your family's financial difficulties."

"Because I needed to be able to prove it and because I also needed the injection of money and credibility. Your father didn't ask; I just omitted that part."

"And does that excuse you for having lied to me?"

"What do you want, Romeo? You know what my intentions are, there's no trickery left. Do you want a divorce? Do you want to kill me?" she asked, lowering her voice. She moved her face closer to mine defiantly. I felt like grabbing her by the chin and wiping that sarcastic smile off with my tongue. "Do it, kill me."

"And miss the game?" I questioned. "No, I'm going to enjoy watching how you try to unmask me."

"Don't doubt that if I succeed, there will be no universe big enough for you to escape from me and my vengeance."

I was crazy. It excited me to hear her talk like that. I suppose because deep down I knew I wasn't guilty and her threat would eventually be forgotten.

"And what if you don't succeed? What if you find out you've been wasting your time trying to prove something that never happened?" I took a long sip of coffee.

"That's not going to happen. I know that you and your family are behind everything. No one was bothered by us as much as you and yours. And if I don't kill you first, it's because I want to find every piece of evidence and spit them out in your face one by one." I raised my hands.

"You already spat at me once and I think you didn't like how it ended up." Her eyes sparkled. "By me, feel free, amore. You have my permission to stir up whatever you need and smash against the wall of truth."

"I don't need your permission for anything." She stood up angrily. "I'm leaving."

"Where to?"

"And what the hell do you care? If you're going to be my jailer, lock me up in a dungeon."

---