Page 18 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
He didn’t even have to pick up the pace while I ran like a madwoman because the people yelling at me and the car horns blaring were all calling cards for my location. So I wait, but he doesn’t appear.
Ishewaiting? I don’t fucking know.
Blood pounds in my ears.
I need to get to the park to meet Ruslan. It’s a small community one, meant to be shut but it’s never locked after dark. The gates are always open a bit. So I finally step out and look around. I don’t see Murphy.
He could be anywhere. I make my way past a tiny little bar, then cut across another road and in through the gates that squeak as I pull them open, then shut them.
This way, if he comes, I’ll know by the creak. I reach into my bag and take out my switchblade to have it close in case I need to use it.
Danger flashes in my brain but I ignore it. I’m not an idiot, but this definitely isn’t my brightest move. I don’t have cash on me now, but I hope Ruslan will take diamonds that are worth more than the five thousand I owe him.
I go to the shadowy bench, under the broken light, where trees sway in the wind. A shudder makes my shoulders quake. The city life around me gives a sense of isolation instead of some kind of safety net.
Ruslan knew Stanislav and Paddy. They were all friends. He said he’d help me when I reached out to him after my uncle died. I need to move fast, get as much information as I can on how close this search is to finding that distant cousin.
My knee bounces and I bite down on my lower lip. He’s late. Why is he late?
Ruslan buys and sells information. Scraps he gathers when moving between organizations as a gun for hire, someone who’ll go and do boring work for secrets. He hears things and?—
“You’re prettier than Ruslan told me you were,” a slimy voice says, sending a shiver of revulsion through me. “Much prettier…”
I swallow hard. “Where is he?”
“Busy.” A man slides next to me on the bench, and he smells like a dank corner of a brewery as he leans close, one meaty arm snaking around my shoulders. “But Olaf is here now. What do you say we forget this boring business for a bit and have some fun?”
He puts his other hand on my thigh and I grab his finger, bending it right back. “Touch me again and I’ll gut you like a fish,” I say to him in Russian.
Olaf laughs, then grabs me by the throat. “You’re nothing, a little princess who wants to play.”
“Take your hand off me or I’ll let Iosif Romanov know you touched family merchandise.”
I hate myself for that, I really do, uttering his name as if he’s my defender, as if I’m part of the Romanov family. Which I’m not. But this man is big. And scary.
Christ, I barely know Ruslan, so what if he sold me out to this thug for even more money?
But I’ve faced down scary things before, and I’ll do it again.
“Now,” I bite out.
He takes his time releasing me and then says, “I’ll be teaching you a lesson, little bird, and I don’t give a fuck about Romanov.”
He definitely does. It’s why he let me go. “Did Ruslan give you the information?”
“The price has gone up.”
That isn’t an answer, but it’s all I have. I could walk away, but then Ruslan might decide I’m not worth dealing with at all. Not that he’s here, but…
It’s with regret I start to pull out the jewels from my bag, but with a gasp, I realize they’re gone. I frantically feel around and open a zipper where I stuffed a bracelet of faux stones that broke. I pull it out. “Diamonds. Worth a lot more than the agreed-on price of five thousand.”
He eyes me, his thick mustache twitching as he mutters something under his breath.
I hear a sound nearby, my eyes flicking in that direction. That’s when I see it.
My stomach plunges into my sneakers.
I whip the bracelet across his face and take off.
