Page 48 of Queens and Monsters

“When did Makarova begin visiting Ms. Renner?” the capo asked.

“October of last year.”

“Fuck, that was the beginning of our negotiations.”

“They want Jasmine to get to you. You can’t allow her to be close to Zhdan. There’s more to this than we can see. Jasmine will be collateral damage, and Myshkin doesn’t give a damn. If what I learned about prior charges of child endangerment regarding prostitution and trafficking connected to Jasmine’s sister are correct, Leah doesn’t give a fuck either.”

“How did you learn all this?” he asked.

“I’m fucking good at what I do. Capo, don’t allow Jasmine to meet with Zhdan or her mother.”

“She’s not. She’s here with us, where she’s the safest.”

“I’d like your permission to marry her.”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Jasmine isn’t a fair offer for the alliance. Especially with what’s happening with her mother.”

Gripping the phone tighter, I paced behind my desk. Beyond the windows I stared at the lap pool and well-tended gardens, trying to find the rightwords. “If anyone is undeserving in our possible match, it’s me. You’re aware of Jasmine’s value. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be so protective of her.”

“She’s safe here.”

“I’ll send my findings to Dante’s email and then I’m getting my bride.”

“You have a job to do in California.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll do it with Jasmine at my side. Myshkin won’t be able to get to her here.”

“I need to see what you found.”

I leaned over my desk and hit a few keys. “Sent.” I disconnected the call.

Chapter

Sixteen

Jasmine

Being in a restaurant felt like being let out of prison, and I owed it all to the coconspirator at my side. Her desire for spicy food had Camila and I sitting in one of the nicest Mexican restaurants in Kansas City. The bar in front of us was lined with the best of the best, top-shelf liquors. Our plates held varying degrees of spicy dishes. Even the aroma of Camila’s enchilada made my eyes water. I opted for something less fiery. We also enjoyed chips and queso.

The margarita was a welcome surprise. Dario didn’t mind if I drank wine in the security of the penthouse, but being only twenty, my drinking out in public was frowned upon. I wasn’t certain how Camila did it. When the bartender asked for our IDs, she said something to him in Spanish. The next thing I realized, we were beingserved. The large glass filled with frozen margarita brought a smile to my face and a scowl to our bodyguards’ lips.

“It’s not like either one of us is driving,” Camila whispered.

Truly, after the last twenty-four hours, drowning in a margarita seemed like my best fate. It wasn’t like I had many options with Giovanni and Piero standing patrol.

Camila took another sip of her margarita. “It’s nice to get out of the apartment sometimes.” She turned to me. “I hate when Dante works all the time. I get that he’s busy. I’m glad I have my classes. Still” —she pouted— “I feel like I hardly see him.” Placing her hand over mine, she smiled. “I’m glad you’re home. I’d be bored without you.”

“It is nice to get out of that prison.” I reached for what was left of my margarita and swirled the ice. “I wish we could do it without our shadows.” As I swiveled to look at Piero, I accidently bumped into the man to my right. Maybe if he wasn’t so close... Turning, I saw the lightest blue eyes. “Excuse me.”

His stern expression softened. “Excuse me.”

My breathing caught and my heart rate increased at his Slavic accent. “Um, excuse me.” I hurried down from my barstool and made my way down the long hallway to the bathroom. There was something familiar about the man, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was, the brief encounter had my heart racing. My reflection in the mirror was unusually pale.

The bathroom door swung open. “Are you all right,Jasmine?” Camila rushed toward me and reached for my hands. “Your hands are freezing. What happened?”

Retrieving my hands, I went to the sink and turned on the hot water. “Probably from the margarita.” Placing my fingers under the hot stream brought back the circulation with a painful prickling sensation.

“No. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

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