Page 24 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Each transaction included a ten percent donation to the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral in Paris. Account number ends with 4721, I remember because it was the same for every transfer."

My hand stills.That's something new.

"Why?" I force his swollen eyes to meet mine.

"I don't know." He coughs up more blood. "It was just part of every transaction. Standard procedure. Wire the main amount to the fashion house, then ten percent to the cathedral's account."

"Who ordered this arrangement?"

"I never met them. Everything came through intermediaries." Nathan's chains rattle as he tries to shift position. "Please, that's all I know. I just move the money where they tell me."

The cathedral donation nags at me. It's too specific, too deliberate to be random. But without my list, I can't cross-reference if this matches any of the other transactions we've uncovered.

I need that list back. Soon.

Nodding, I step back and straighten my cuffs. Walker continues to whimper, and I wait a moment before I start speaking again.

"Are you a family man, Mr. Walker?"

"En-engaged." Nathan's voice trembles.

"Does your fiancée know what you do? The kind ofproductsyou help sell?"

"No... please..."

"Do you plan to have children with her?"

Nathan nods weakly. "We... we want two..."

"Two children?" Red clouds my vision. My hand shoots out and grabs his throat. "And you still did these deals for Chrysalis Designs? For Kirsan?”

"I just move money!" Walker sobs. "That's all!"

"Justmove money?" The words taste like ash in my mouth as my fist connects with his jaw. "Youjustmove money that pays for women and children to be sold to monsters?"

Bone crunches under my knuckles. Blood sprays across the fetid air in the basement. Each punch lands harder than the last. I lose count of how many times my fists slam into his face, his chest, his stomach.

My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning out everything except Walker's wet gasps.

"Vadim!" Strong hands grab my shoulders, and yank me back. "That's enough!"

I wrench free from Demyon's grip and drive my fist into Walker's stomach one final time. His head lolls forward, body swaying limply in the chains.

"He's dead." Demyon's voice cuts through my rage. "Suka blyat! I could've worked him all night if you had just brought that damn list, but now we have to clean this up."

"Izvini." I rake my hand through my hair, forcing my breathing to slow. "Lost control there."

"No shit." Demyon shakes his head, but his eyes hold understanding rather than judgment. "At least he told us something before you killed him. Help me get him down."

We work in practiced silence, unfastening the chains. Walker's body thuds against the concrete floor. Blood pools beneath him and seeps into the cracks.

"Ten percent to a cathedral," I say. “That can’t be a coincidence. That's a deposit."

"You think Kirsan’s using it as a bank?" Demyon drags a black tarp out from behind a stack of crates, along with two pairs of surgical gloves.

"It’s the perfect cover. Who would ever question the money coming into a church?” I help him spread the tarp on the floor and then put the gloves on. "And Alexander Nevsky isn’t just any church. It’s one of the most important Russian Orthodox cathedrals in Europe. It’d be trivial for Kirsan’s to hide dirty money among the legitimate donations, especially with Paris as his home turf.”

“So, not exactly somewhere we can walk in guns blazing." Demyon grunts as we roll Walker's body onto the tarp. "And even if we did get in. We don't know what to look for.”

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