Page 55 of Scorned Beauty
“Okay.”
“Don’t worry, Sloane.” Anton laughed. “You’re not dismembering anyone else yet.”
And I never would because after this I was gone.
“Vacuum and mop the entire place. Wipe every surface clean,” he continued. “I’m bagging the pillows and taking them with me, so don’t touch them.”
He was probably looking for the evidence.
“On it,” Billy said and looked at me. “Why don’t you take care of the blood?”
I unpacked my tools and cleaning chemicals. Crouching by the concentration of blood saturating the floorboard, I analyzed the scene. It appeared the subject hit her head and she was dragged across the parquet flooring. If there was any doubt about the identity of the victim, the strands of blonde hair mixed with the blood were very damning.
An hour had passed when Anton came back to me. “Sloane?”
He didn’t tell me what he needed, but expected me to follow him into the bedroom. The nightstand lights were lit, illuminating a custom-built bed with luxurious bedding. My gaze numbly transfixed on that bed and wondered if Dom and the woman ever spent time on it. Although given the feds and Russians’ interest in her, a large part of me still believed Dom’s association with her wasn’t sexual but a power play.
Still, I couldn’t help fretting that he wanted to set me up in a luxurious place like this.
“Sloane! What the fuck?”
Jolted out of my torturous thoughts, I turned to Anton. “What do you need?”
“Go through the pockets. Any storage device, give it to me.”
So she had evidence against the Russians. Was Dom making moves on the Russians and they found out because this building belonged to him?
Forty-five minutes passed, but we found nothing. The hot-pink coat I’d seen the woman wearing was hanging in the closet.
I was sick to my stomach how this life had spiraled so far into the dark side, every fiber inside me was screaming to packHarriet and Ginger in the van and get the hell out of Dodge. Because if my only choice was working for the bratva, I would be left without a soul.
I didn’t know Grigori’s plans and endgame, but it only made sense he was making his moves tonight because the entire underworld was focused on the Game of Bosses. There was no other brilliant night to execute whatever plot he had in mind.
Anton left me to finish up and exited the room. He appeared agitated, and it didn’t take two guesses why. He killed the only person who had the evidence that could incriminate them. But if the evidence was a thumb drive, then it would be floating out there. Anton was more brute than brains. He probably intended to knock the woman around. She slipped, hit her head, and died.
When I left the room, he was on his phone. “Done?”
I nodded.
Anton returned to the caller. “Okay, send them up. Make sure the cameras are on a loop. This needs to be quick and clean.”
“Can Billy and I go now?”
“We’ll all leave through the service elevator.”
Billy and I exchanged a look. That sounded ominous.
Men in ski masks came in and hauled out the garbage bags. Anton was still on the phone inspecting my work. I held my breath. He didn’t have Kolya’s cold, meticulous eyes, but he had the malicious eyes of a bully.
“Let’s go,” he muttered. We rode the elevator in silence. Billy usually made conversation, but I guessed he was nervous because he was wearing the wire. Meanwhile I had a death grip on my cleaning caddy. We emerged from the building into the alley where I parked my van. Regardless of what the feds planned to do with us after, I was going to try to run.
Fuck this life.
I had enough money saved under Harriet’s name. I could buy a new identity, except hauling an octogenarian with me could be tricky. It was up to Billy if he wanted to come with us, but I was done with Manhattan.
I was walking steadily to my van when Anton grabbed my elbow. “Grigori wants a word with you.”
“He can call me and set an appointment.”
