Page 75 of The Crimson Lily
A coat and a mask—fancy. I already imagine Maksim in a long black cape with a Zorro mask. The first thing I think is:sexy.
Chiara hands Maksim a bag with everything he’ll need for tonight. He opens it, browses through the folds of what appears to be a thick trench coat, and pulls out one of those simple white Venetian Volto masks. How dramatic. These theatrics could discredit the seriousness of the situation, but we are in Rome, after all. A mysterious criminal masquerade doesn’t surprise me. I just hope he’ll watch out for himself.
“Maksim,” I call to get his attention.
Giovanni casts a slightly surprised glance at me, probably because he’s just realized Maksim and I are on a first-name basis.
“Yes?” Maksim inquires since I’m not saying more.
“Please…be careful tonight,” I request, but I am quietly imploring.
The thought of Maksim being caught crosses my mind, and it’s really not something I want to think about.
“Don’t worry about me,” he shrugs, emotionless, as if it doesn’t have to matter for me.
I want to argue, but not with Chiara and Giovanni here in the room, not when they are already eyeing us thinking all sorts of things.
The rest of the day is spent discussing positions. We’ll go by Mafia Capitale car and park on the side of a road adjacent to the path leading up to the Syndicate meeting’s rendezvous point. Maksim will go in with an earpiece connected to Giovanni’s system, a box of electronics similar to the one back in Paris, back when Maksim ventured down to William de Loit’s apartment and I almost died again.
I’m instructed to stay in the car.
“The original plan was for you to go,” Chiara discloses to me. “You were Syndicate, so you know them. You are my size, so you could pretend to be me.”
“But the Bratva feels more comfortable with one of their soldiers taking over the mission,” Giovanni adds, sneering at Maksim. He’s clearly jealous that he won’t go in himself.
“Since Syndicate members themselves don’t know who’s attending,” Chiara continues, “it won’t pose a problem as long as…Maksim has the token.” She calls him by name now that she knows it, thanks to me.
“What do we hope to get out of this meeting?” I ask.
“The location of the Syndicate’s lair in Rome,” Giovanni replies. “We find their sanctuary, then we find the dagger, and the Bratva can get it back.” He looks at me with a collaborative, nearly indiscernible wink to remind me of our little secret. I know exactly what that means. The Bratva won’t get their dagger back. At least, not in one piece. Not with traces of the fate of the world carved into it.
“What makes you so sure they will disclose the location?” I wonder with a frown.
“We have to try,” Chiara admits. “William will be there for sure. They didn’t call this meeting for nothing!”
She looks more certain than Giovanni. Something smells fishy, but I’m not sure what. Maybe it’s the fact no one is sure of anything, and we’re all taking guesses here. Or maybe it’s the fact this whole idea of a meeting orchestrated by William de Loit reeks of…conspiracy.
“What is it, Liliana?” Maksim spots my suspicion.
I click my tongue before explaining. “This could be a ruse. What if William has set up some kind of trap?”
Maksim pulls out another object from Chiara’s bag. He handles it with care as if he knows exactly how to wield it. A gun. A shiny black gun.
“Beretta?” Maksim asks Giovanni as if to say:Really?
Giovanni shrugs as if to say:Deal with it.
Maksim locks eyes back with me. “I’m taking some precautions.”
A gun. Flashbacks to our Paris hotel room rush through my mind. I heard a gunshot and saw the brains of my assailant splattered on the floor. I know Maksim shot that gun, but I never saw him with it.
Now I’m looking at him holding one.
“They could search you,” I warn,
“Not at these meetings, no,” Chiara rejects. “The tokens guarantee them exclusivity. They don’t expect anyone else to show but themselves. That’s how self-assured they are.”
All right, there’s nothing else I can say that will change their minds. I surrender. Maksim is going to that meeting, with a mask and a gun, ready for whatever will happen tonight. I still give him a wary nod, but he looks away, probably tired of hearing me buzzing with worry.
