Page 32 of City Of Thieves
“What a shame,” I say with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll be busy washing the stench of car chases out of my hair.”
He growls.Actually growls.And then he’s spinning me around and crowding me up against the door. “Are you under the impression I’m giving you a choice, Tatiana?”
Up close, I can see the shadows moving behind his dark eyes again. I can count the number of tiny silver scars intersecting his eyebrows. I can smell the whiskey on his breath, and for some reason it doesn’t turn my stomach like it does with other men.
“You don’t intimidate me, Mr. Marchesi,” I lie, averting my eyes. “I’ve been threatened by far scarier people than you.”
“Is that right?” I’ve piqued his interest. “Did the Good Senator have his Colombian crew around to play when you were growing up?”
“I don’t remember the details. I have a selective memory.” With that, I turn and open the door. When I go to slam it, he wedges his boot in the gap.
“Eight p.m., empress,” he repeats. “Don’t test me on this. We have an auction tomorrow and a couple of million on the line. I want to know the game planmy moneyis buying.”
“Good night, Mr. Marchesi,” I say sweetly, driving my stiletto heel into his boot. Then, I’m shutting the door in his face as he reels backward with a savage curse.
* * *
I listenout for the angry slam of his own door, and he doesn’t disappoint.
Bang.
The walls are still shaking as I reach for my phone. Konstantinanswers on the first ring.
“Kiska,” he purrs.
“I got your message.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I kick my heels off and adopt the brace position. This man holds my whole world in his hands. I can’t count the number of times he’s tried to crush it, and I get the feeling he’s about to do it again.
“I am displeased, Tatiana. Explain yourself.”
“I’m here for a work trip, nothing more… And it’s nothing to do with my family,” I add quickly. “I’m sure you have eyes on me, so you know I’m not lying. There’s a modern art auction tomorrow atWeatherby’s. I’m here agenting for—”
“Renzo Marchesi.Yes, I know.”
I pause at his tone. At Marchesi’s name being sneered at me with such hostility.
Do they know each other?
That’s when I realize my mistake.
“We criminals are only six degrees of separation from each other...”
“How can I fix this?” I whisper. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll return to New York on the next flight out.” I force the image of “Mary” from my mind. Force the image of me closing the doors to my gallery forever. This deal was a shot in the dark to save my business, but nothing is worth losing my precious hour in Moscow.
“It is too late for that,kiska.”
My composure melts again. Panic rises. “Please, I—”
“Ay ay ay!” he snarls, cutting me off sharply. “You know how I feel about begging.”
Somehow, I find myself on my knees anyway, rocking back and forth. Silently pleading for his mercy, even though he’s never shown me an ounce of it before.
“There is only one way to redeem yourself.”
“Anything,” I rasp.
“You will go to this auction tomorrow. You will go through the motions. But you arenotto buy this painting…this ‘Atonement’ for Marchesi.” There’s a long pause. “My London agent suffered an unfortunate accident this afternoon, soyouare going to buy it for me, instead.”
Oh my God.
