Page 45 of Deadly Protector
“Excuse me?” Ryba sat up straighter, leaned forward, and out of the corner of Dimitri’s eye he saw the two men shift slightly in their booth.
He also saw Isa and Graysen tense at theirs, but they didn’t get up.
With the many mirrors in this place, it was easy to spot any potential threats. No one else even hinted at moving. The rest of the men in this place were all transfixed on the only woman currently dancing. There were barely dressed cocktail waitresses walking around, but it was a scant crew working given the relatively early hour.
“You heard me. And I only work for professionals.”
“Fine, fine.” Ryba held up his palms. “You’ll walk away with a cool mil. Tax free, no one knows about it, and it’s only a couple hours of work. Can’t beat that.”
Nothing was ever that easy, something Ryba should know. Maybe not, considering how much jail time the guy had done. “How much are you walking away with?”
Ryba shifted a little, took a sip of his drink, winced. “Pure vodka?”
Dimitri lifted a shoulder. “How. Much.”
“Five mil. But that’s because this is my idea. And I’ve set everything up. And,” he added, looking around, “no one will ever report anything because the item is stolen to begin with.”
Dimitri raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting.” And also potentially dangerous if the person they stole from was a criminal. This sounded far too messy.
“I swear, this is the easiest job you’ll ever do. And everyone I’ve talked to says you’re a total pro and—” Ryba straightened suddenly, fear bleeding into his gaze.
Dimitri turned slightly, then did a double take. Despite being in this shitty place away from Zamira, he let out a short laugh, surprised to see a very old acquaintance. Whereas Dimitri had been good at taking things that didn’t belong to him, Maxim had been very good at convincing people to pay back money they owed. After a career fighting, he’d worked for a loan shark in Miami decades ago, but had eventually gone on the straight and narrow. “Maxim.”
The man gave him a wide smile and pulled him into a hug when Dimitri went to shake his hand. “It’s so good to see you!” His voice boomed, as loud as Maxim was big.
Dimitri laughed as he stepped back. “You too. I thought you’d moved.”
“I did. But my daughter goes to college here so…” He shrugged. “I’m back for a week and stopped by to see a friend.”
Dimitri glanced around, saw one of the bouncers watching Dimitri with annoyance. “Friend, huh?”
Maxim shrugged, then laughed. “Eh, an old boyfriend. He says you are far too handsome, doesn’t like me talking to you.” He looked back at the bouncer, smiled, then faced Dimitri—sparing Ryba a surprised look. “You’re meeting with this one?” he asked in Russian. “He’s no good. Very stupid.”
“I’m well aware.” His tone was dry.
“Ah, okay. As long as you know. You’re busy, I can see. If you’re free, let’s meet up before I head home. I must return to Chicago soon.”
“Sounds good.” He held out his hand, hoping to avoid another bone-crunching hug from a man who had at one time been a professional fighter turned bruiser for hire.
Maxim grinned, as if reading his mind, and shook his hand before stalking off.
“You know Maxim Novikov?” There was a hint of awe and likely fear in Ryba’s tone as he sat back down.
“It would appear so.”
He let out a short curse. “He knows my aunt.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not.”
Oh, but it was clear that it was. “Does your aunt know you’re running a job here in Miami?”
“It’s not in the city limits and…no.” He cleared his throat, then straightened. But some of the swagger from before was gone.
Hmm, not in Miami. That was at least something, though not much. Dimitri needed to get into Ryba’s phone, or more accurately, Isa needed to clone it.
But Ryba needed to unlock it in front of him for her to do so. Isa had told him that was the only way she could grab his information. So far Ryba hadn’t made a move to touch his cell.
