Page 97 of City Of Thieves
How the hell does he know about the ceremony?
Fucking Sal.
“Your brother was a smart man, too,” he continues with a vicious smirk. “He learned about Andrei Petrov’s missing art collection long before you, but your ‘difficulties’ prevented him from sharing his knowledge with you. Maybe if you had bothered to listen, he would not be a rotting corpse now.”
My jaw clenches as he finally takes a seat, lifting the painting out of the last of its packaging and holding it up for inspection. Those black walls are closing in on me again... That’s until Tatiana’s face cuts through the chaos.
Fucking breathe, Renzo. Don’t let him get inside your head.
“Come…sit.” Konstantin gestures to the spare seat, and I take it reluctantly as he puts the painting to one side. “Let us have a drink.” He tips the bottle, filling both glasses to the rim.
“No thanks. I have a strict rule about passing on Russian poison.”
Lifting his glass with one hand, he gestures to the destruction all around us with the other. “Come now, Marchesi... If I wanted you dead already, I would have just shot you. There is enough blood in mykiska’sbeautiful gallery as it is.”
I assume he’s referring to the night guard, but then I catch him staring at my hands.
“Look,” he says, pointing at them. “See how it drips all over my table and onto the floor? The blood is onyou,” he clarifies, leaning forward, the shadows falling away from his face. “Can’t you see it? Your brother died becauseyouled Oleg to him. Vasily died becauseyouforced Oleg’s location out of him… And Oleg, well.” He shrugs, lifting the vodka back to his mouth. “I believe you were instrumental in that one.”
“It’s not working, Konstantin,” I say, clenching my fist tightly, keeping Tatiana’s face in the forefront of my mind. I keep the face of a little girl there, too. One I haven’t even met yet, but who’s going to help her mother dismantle my black walls, brick by brick.
“Whatis not working?” he asks, projecting a snake’s charm of innocence.
“Tell me something,” I say, changing the subject. “Was she a revenge target, or was it all about money?”
“She was an opportunity,” he admits. “And she has made it worth my while,over and over and over,again.
I’m slipping.
The walls are rising.
It’s taking everything I have now not to pick my gun off the table and aim it at his head.
“All this for a few finger paintings?” I mutter in disgust.
“Two billion dollars’ worth,” he corrects, his eyes gleaming. “Think how many fingers you canbuyfor that.”
“Let her go, Belov. Let them both go, and you walk out of here alive instead of in a wooden box.”
“I wanted to meet you,” he says, ignoring my request. “I wanted to see the man who made mykiskadefy me after five years.”
“Or maybe you wanted to stare down death one last time.”
“Back to the wooden box so soon?” He laughs and drains his glass again. “Am I sliding under your skin like a splinter yet, Marchesi? I know the darkness that lurks inside you. Do you really think a happy ending will make it all go away? You and me, we are not so different. We both take and take from the good in our lives, and we use it for our own selfish reasons.” He pours himself another drink, and I watch, heart pounding, as he knocks it back in one. “Take her. Take them both. See how long it is before you crush them in the palm of your hand like bugs.” Tossing his glass down on the table, he flips the painting over and curses. “You reallyweretelling the truth. Thisisthe original.”
“You won’t find the location,” I say idly. “Tatiana’s mother already has the ten letters. She knows where Petrov’s collection is.”
“You lie.”
I lean forward, rapidly losing my patience. “See, that’s the other thing about men like us, Konstantin… We always have a contingency plan.”
He holds my glare, then laughs again. “Yes, we do.”
There’s movement at the front of the gallery suddenly. Theclick-clackof heels, then a familiar voice is calling out, her soft voice echoing off the ruined walls.
“Hello? Is anybody here?” Next is a muffled scream as she trips over her night guard. “Oh my God!”
Fuck.
