Page 44 of City Of Thieves
I watch him take in Renzo’s appearance, a sly smirk creeping across his face as he chews on his gum thoughtfully. “Since when the hell doyoushave?”
“I have an auction to attend later. Figured I’d look the part.”
“If you say so.” Angling his head, Killian looks beyond him to where I’m sitting up in bed, clutching the bedsheets to my chest.
I watch his brows lift in amusement. “Should have brought a spare croissant. Didn’t realize you had company.”
“Eyes on me, Davies,” I hear Renzo snap, moving closer to the door to block out the view. “Unless you want me to carve them out for you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t used to be such a miserable bugger.”
“Did you want something, or are you here to piss all over my morning mood?”
“Keys.” Shaking his head, Killian thrusts something into Renzo’s spare hand. “The new motor you requested. It’s downstairs with the valet already. Oh, and the boss gave me a message to give to you… Said if you trashed another of his motors, he’ll be trashingyou.”
To my shock, Renzo starts laughing at this, that rare, delicious sound that makes my toes curl involuntarily. “Tell Frankie I look forward to it. Have the clean-up crew finished?”
“All done.”
“Bye, Killian.” He shuts the door on the Englishman as he’s opening his mouth to say something else.
“That was rude.”
He stops and stares at me for a moment before tossing the keys and his gun on the desk and handing me a croissant. “People exist to serve a purpose,dolcezza,” he says, heading back into the bathroom. “My courtesy rarely extends beyond me giving a fucking order and them following it. If people piss me off, they face the alternative.”
“Which is?” Climbing out of bed with a wince, I take a bite and follow him into the bathroom, leaning my hip against the twin sink as he picks up his razor again to finish shaving.
He pauses with the blade pressed against his throat to shoot me a look. “What happened to your Russian friend last night was a prime example.”
“He wasn’t my friend.”
“Mine either, which is good. I’ve caused enough funerals of people I give a shit about recently.”
He means his brother.
“So that’s it?” I say, taking another bite of the croissant. “The code that cracks the great Renzo Marchesi? You simply dispose of people who no longer serve your interests, or those who point a gun at you? How singular in your outlook.” Acid drips from my tone as I chuck the rest of the croissant in the bin. “I suggest you expand your horizons. Some people might still surprise you. Some of us have hidden depths worth exploring.”
Am I talking about myself here?
He starts to shave in long precise strokes, but I can tell he’s struggling to keep a straight face. “People rarely surprise me, Tatiana.”
“I bet I can, right now,” I challenge.
“Prove it.”
“Hand me your razor. I can do a much better job than you are.”
“Not a chance. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m okay. Don’t you trust me?”
“We’ve been through this before. I don’t trust anyone, and neither do you.”
It sounds like he’s returning the challenge.
“Turns out, playing ‘two truths, one lie’ with you is a joyless experience, Renzo. How about aquid pro quo, instead?”
His smirk finally breaks through the rain clouds. There’s another slow stroke as he makes me wait for his answer.
