Page 127 of Lethal Alliance

Roman glances away briefly. It takes a moment for me to realize he’s struggling to compose himself.

“Anyway.” Mickey picks up the story again. “After that, I got in touch with Lars Andersson directly.” He grins. “He wasn’t happy about that at all. Apparently he and Alexei have gone to crazy lengths to keep their communication a secret from Orlov and his men. But then I gave the phone to Mak, who managed to communicate the... urgency of our situation.”

The pilot is gesturing to us to board. Roman circles his finger in the air, indicating to Mickey to hurry up. He’s still watching Alexei grimly.

“Turns out Lars was in Switzerland,” Mickey says hastily. “He’s been there all this time, waiting for Darya to come. The code he’d been sending was for a safety deposit box in the same bank as yours. Alexei had put the Fabergé egg with the key to the vault inside it, along with his fingerprints.”

“Wait.” Roman looks startled. “What do you mean, he put the key in there?” He glances at Mak, who lifts a shoulder, half smiling.

“I told you to hear him out.”

Roman looks between Masha, Mickey, and me, then to Dimitry, who gives him a subtle nod.

He turns to Alexei. “You,” he says curtly. “I need to talk to you.”

Alexei moves slowly toward us, every muscle in his body tense and alert, his lone eye taking in everyone at once.

“At the vault,” Roman says as Alexei nears us. He’s frowning, his eyes still dangerous. “That key you gave me was a fake.”

Alexei doesn’t try to deny it. He just nods.

“You gambled with my daughters’ lives.” Roman’s voice is hard. “What if I hadn’t had an army waiting to break in? What if Orlov had called your bluff?”

Alexei meets his eyes evenly. “Then you would not have been the man I believed you to be, Roman.” Something fierce flashes in his eye. “And I would have died before I let Orlov lay a single finger on either of your daughters. As would every one of my men.”

There’s something so lethal in his voice it makes even me shiver.

Roman’s eyes narrow. “How long have you known that my father’s key was in Switzerland?”

“Since Rosa told me several months ago.” Alexei stares back at Roman with almost as much hostility as Roman has shown him. “Papa never even mentioned the existence ofa key before that. No offense, but if I’d known where it was while they were torturing my sister, I’d have sold you out without a moment’s hesitation.”

Roman stares at him for a long time, his eyes hard and assessing. Then, finally, and to my great relief, he puts his hand out.

After a moment, Alexei takes it.

It’s a bit like watching two boxers shake hands in the ring.

“Thank Christ,” Mak mutters from behind me.

“I understand you’ve still got a battle on your hands at that compound,” Roman says as he releases his hand. “Mak will make sure you have a team of men, and anything else you need, to take it back.”

Alexei inclines his head briefly. “Thank you.” His eyes slide to Orlov, his face darkening.

Roman takes a hard breath. “Orlov is yours,” he says harshly.

Alexei’s head snaps back to Roman, his face pale. His fists clench, his lone eye narrow and glittering. “Are you sure?”

“Make sure the bastard pays.” Roman’s voice is rough. “For all of it.”

“Oh, he’ll pay.” Alexei’s voice is utterly lethal. His eye flickers to me, so briefly I could almost have imagined it. “You have my word.”

Roman nods. “You saved my life,” he says slowly. “I won’t forget that. But most of all, I owe you my deepest gratitude for protecting my daughters.” He puts his hand out again.

This time, however, Alexei doesn’t take it. He steps back, a fleeting look of something like revulsion crossing his eyes, there and gone so fast it might have been a shadow. “Don’t ever thank me for that.” He grinds the words out. Again, his eye touches my face, sliding away like a shadow, but not before I register the same flash of dark emotion in it. “Not ever.”

Before the moment becomes awkward, Alexei turns smoothly to Mak, his face a mask once more. “We need to hurry.” He nods at Roman. “We’ll talk when you’re back in London?”

“London,” Roman agrees. He doesn’t seem to have noticed the repressed savagery in Alexei’s tone. Nobody has.

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