Page 114 of Beautiful Secrets
He frowns at me. “Excuse me?”
It’s so fucked up—in that moment, he sounds almost exactly like Mika. Or, I guess, his daughter sounds like him. But it’s a good thing—reminds me why the fuck I’m here. And it’s not to pander to the likes of Vasiliev.
“You, my dear Russki bastard, shouldn’t be allowed to procreate.” I stab a finger toward him, but since we’re standing so far away from each other we pretty much have to shout, it’s no surprise no one takes it as a threat.
“What is this?” Dimitri throws up his hands, and then plucks his cigarette from his mouth like he just remembered it was there. “Where is Mika?”
“Thirty-thousand feet above sea level, give or take.”
Dimitri laughs, looking around at his comrades for support. His boys let out reluctant chuckles, but no one else does.
Especially the Barisovas. They look grim as fucking death himself. Especially the big bastard—Yuri, wasn’t it?
Sinister looking fellow, that one. Dead eyes that still manage a thousand-yard stare.
“Now you waste my time,” Dimitri says. “And I do not take kindly—”
“You wanna know where your precious Mika is?” I bellow.
Fuck it, I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m about to break out in hives if I stay here one second longer.
These motherfucking cocksuckers are the reason I met Mika, true, but they’re also the reason I had to put her on a fucking plane to Russia.
They should cancel each other out, those two things, but they don’t.
Instead, I’m just fucked off.
“She’s on her way back to your motherland.”
Dimitri steps closer, waving away a pair of heavies that look like they want to come too. “No.” He shakes his head. “This is not possible.”
“Which part,” I growl. “The fact she’s not here, or the fact she’s back there?”
“How could she board plane without papers?” Dimitri asks through an almost jolly laugh, all considered.
“She used her passport instead.”
Dimitri shakes his head. “With what money?”
“It’s called a credit card? Ever heard of it?”
His face is going red, and I’m pretty sure that’s my sign to fuck off out of here.
“So, now everything’s been sorted out, I’ll just be headed—”
Someone takes the safety off their gun. My hands are in the air before my eyes swivel to see who dares think they could put a bullet in me and live to see the sun rise another day.
“You’ve killed her,” the man says.
Dimitri clicks his tongue like his dog just shat on the carpet. “Lev, put it down.”
Lev is a few years older than me. A trained killer.
Which is all to be expected. But what makes no sense is that, when Dimitri tells him to lower his weapon, he doesn’t listen.
“Yeah, Lev,” I say, lifting my eyebrows. “Me and your boss, we’re trying to have a conversation here.” I look at Dimitri as I slowly lower my hands. “Mika is very much alive and well. I don’t think they’d let a corpse board a flight. Security risk, and all that.”
“Where is she landing?” Lev demands, stalking up to me with the gun still pointed at my face. His accent is the least Russian of the lot, but he doesn’t look like a native any more than Dimitri or Yuri.
