Page 56 of Chasing Danger

Realization struck like the first ray or dawn in my mind. Everyone else in the room knew the truth about mygrandmother. There was no reason for him to say it out loud. He only did so to make sure I understood.

D’Angelo was talking to me. In this situation, he couldn’t risk acknowledging me. That would only give his enemies more leverage against him. Yet, despite that, he still found a way to communicate with me.

My tears kept flowing down my cheeks, but now they were filled with hope instead of heartbreak.

CHAPTER 23

D’Angelo

It washard to tell since I couldn’t look at Oliver for long, but it seemed like he understood my message. I wouldn’t abandon him and would do my best to keep him in the loop about what was happening.

The watch on my wrist was new, so the sight of it on my wrist still seemed unnatural when I subtly looked down.

Not quite time yet.

Oliver’s grandmother sat at the table across from me, her posture so perfect I could almost imagine the dangerous operative she once was.

What must it be like, to be trained into a lethal weapon, only to be put on the shelf and forgotten?

A sleeper agent who was never woken up. Surely that must have a negative effect on a person.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one with these questions, for Aslanov stepped up next to the woman and placed a deliberate hand on the back of her chair.

“I have to say, madam, you are one of our most devoted agents. To live amongst the enemy for so many years.”

She shook her head, a ‘tisking’ sound falling from her lips.

“Many agents have fallen for the trap of sentimentality before. Becoming too attached to their fake lives and failing to act when the moment finally arrived. When I first realized we had an agent here, I had my doubts, but this is one of the few times I’m glad to be mistaken.”

Oliver’s grandmother turned just enough to face Aslanov and tipped her head into a slight bow. “My duty has always been clear. If I am able to serve the Pahkan now, then my time will have been worth it.”

“Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it.” Aslanov switched to the other side of the chair, her hand sliding along the back, so it just brushed against Oliver’s grandmother.

Tension hung over all our heads like a guillotine blade. Despite her words, Aslanov’s true intent couldn’t have been more obvious. She didn’t fully trust Oliver’s grandmother.

That was fine by me. Let them waste time passive-aggressively arguing with each other.

Aslanov leaned closer so she was looming over the older woman’s shoulder. “I’m curious, though. Were you relieved when the order to act finally came in? You could finally cast off your fake life and stop acting.”

The ship under our feet rocked with the waves, so it was impossible to sit perfectly still, but Oliver’s grandmother attempted it as she refused to face Aslanov directly.

“My feelings are not a factor, so there is no relief. Only actions matter, and my actions are always in service to the Pahkan.”

“Hmmm.” Aslanov rubbed her chin as if thinking, then sat directly on the table so she could loom even more efficiently.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Such theatrics were... unnecessary. On an average civilian or even a lower-level subordinate, such posturing might be intimidating, but Oliver’s grandmother was a seasoned spy. She’d likely received some of the best training the Russian Mafia had to offer. Aslanov’s attempt to show dominance would have no effect.

Still, Aslanov pressed on with her performance. “In service of the Pahkan, hmm. Except, that’s not really true, is it? Fifteen years ago, your son stole a shipment between the Italian and Russian families, and then disappeared. There’s no way a low-level enforcer had the ability to pull off a heist like that on his own. You must have helped him. Now, I never agreed with that trade deal to begin with, so I approved of its disruption, but the fact stands that you took action without an order. One that disrupted the Pahkan’s plans. Now, this can be forgiven since you weren’t given any instructions, but I’m going to need some assurance that your loyalty is still intact.”

While I still wasn’t sure what Aslanov was angling for, I knew it couldn’t be anything good. The two women were still distracted by each other, so I quickly glanced down at my watch again.

Just a few minutes left.

Finally, Oliver’s grandmother moved more than a few muscles at a time. She stood from the chair with the grace of an aging queen and faced Aslanov directly. “Enough. State what you want plainly so that I may demonstrate my loyalty.”

To my horror, Aslanov’s gaze shifted toward Oliver.

I had been trying not to look at the other man, so that I could maintain my composure. The sight of him gagged and bound, which might have been scintillating in a more intimate setting, in this situation sent my blood boiling. The gun pointed at his head was enough for me to wish death on every single Russian on the ship.

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