Page 70 of City Of Thieves
“A machine has many moving parts,Lorenzo.” He leans back against his desk again,his black gaze lingering over Tatiana. “Just as every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Yours and mine started with an alliance between our late grandfathers, until your father allied with the Mexicans.” At the mention of the Carrera Cartel, he spits on the ground. “Thirty years of business, down the drain. That is, until your Uncle Salvatore was persuaded to cross the battle lines.”
And there’s the confirmation.
The fucking traitor, himself.
He took our family’s sacredomertácode of silence and shit all over it.
“While you and Nero ran your art business, Salvatore and Vasily founded their own partnership. Your uncle tipped off my brother about the ‘Atonement’, and in return, Vasily promised both Gianni’s sons would meet an untimely end.”
“There never was a buyer, was there, you piece of shit? You set up the meeting yourself. My brother died because of your goddamn family free-for-all.”
Oleg’s mood takes a sharp nosedive. “Your brother died for money.” My wrists finally break free. “He died for a group of ten paintings belonging to one family—Petrov.” As the name slithers from his lips, he turns toward Tatiana. “A name that should sound familiar to you,kiska. Your mother’s side, I believe. Nowthatstory is a lot more interesting…”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“Did you set me up?” I roar at Tatiana.
“No, I swear!”
Oleg starts laughing again as he slots another cigarette between his lips, tilting his head to light it. “While this has been entertaining, I have a plane to catch.” He straightens up with a smirk. “There is still a painting in America that belongs to me. I believe you outbid her for it last week.”
This time, Tatiana’s shock isn’t fabricated.
One...
Reaching behind him, he pulls a gun from his waistband—a fucking familiar one—and swings the barrel between us, settling it first on Tatiana.
Two…
“I think I will start with you,suka. My own private ‘fuck you’ to Konstantin’s little toy.”
Three…
Lunging out of my chair, I charge at him like a raging bull. Amidst the chaos, he fires off a single shot, the bullet skimming off the tip of my shoulder before I’m slamming him into the wall.
A shoulder. A lung. A heart.
I don’t give a fuck, so long as it’s my blood and not hers.
As long as I give Nero his justice.
I hear Tatiana scream as we fight for the weapon. One moment, I have his wrist pinned in the air, the next, I’m taking an elbow to the chin, and he’s twisted the muzzle between us, his finger curling around the trigger.
Hell no. It doesn’t end like this.
With my last burst of strength, I grab the barrel away from my chest and shove it upward, half a second before he pulls the trigger. A violent spray of blood hits my face, and there’s a beat of suspended silence. When I step back, I watch in satisfaction as what’s left of the Russian drops to the floor. The bullet entered somewhere under his chin and exited…well, I’m not sure where the hell it exited. Most of his skull is splattered across the wall.
Retrieving my gun, I tuck it back in its holster as a commotion from the main arena announces the impending arrival of the Russian cavalry. Quickly locking the door, I buy us a few extra seconds as I cross back to a shell-shocked Tatiana and slice the tape from her wrists with Oleg’s knife.
“We need to get the hell out of here, and we need to do itnow.”
Grabbing her hand, I drag her out of a side door and through a labyrinth of hallways and stairwells until we’re spilling out ontoBoynya’sscarlet, black, and crystal-encrusted main floor where some blonde teenager is gyrating for survival in front of a group of middle-aged men.
She stops dead when she sees us, her tits somewhere near her knees. All heads turn to us, but the patrons don’t move. Any security guard stupid enough to block our path is rewarded with a bullet to their chest.
“Renzo, I can’t run anymore...” I hear her gasping for breath as we explode onto the street.
“Nearly there,dolcezza.”
