Page 67 of Savage Princess

“I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been to come home and find her like that,” Vasquez continues. “Murdered in the bed you shared—sliced open and left to bleed out…and your child. Such a shame—it never even had a chance to be born.”

Hearing that feels like a physical blow, a shock that reverberates through me. I can’t imagine how it must feel to Levin. I see the shudder that goes through him, ever so faint, and I don’t know how he keeps from lashing out. I don’t know how he keeps the iron grip on himself that keeps him standing there, facing Vasquez, his expression an empty mask.

I hadn’t known that Levin’s wife was pregnant when she died. It makes my heart ache for him, to think of what he’s gone through.

“What happened to Lidiya was a long time ago.” Levin’s voice is as empty of emotion as his eyes. “We’re talking about the present, Vasquez.”

“And yet it still affects you.” He steeples his fingers in front of himself, his lips twitching in a smile, and I wish I could cross the room and slap him, scratch him, claw his eyes out. I hate him for what I know he’s making Levin feel in this moment, the torment he’s putting him through, just to see if he’ll break.

It’s horrible.

“I’ve made you an offer. It’s a good one. So what’s the point of this game?” Levin asks flatly. “If there is a purpose to this, I’d love to hear it.”

Vasquez sits up then, leaning forward once more as he reaches out to take another puff of his cigar before setting it back down. “You like games, Volkov. You know how I know that?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Vasquez smirks. “I know you’ve been gambling your way through the city, Volkov—I imagine in an effort to make the money you need to replace the passports you never got and buy a flight out of here with a willing pilot. And as a result, you beat a man who was meant to win me a lot of money at a game not that long ago—at a certain hotel that I’m sure you’ll remember. It ended with a fight, a death, and a stolen car.”

I don’t know how he knows all of that. I want to ask, but I know better.Who told him?Does he have eyes everywhere?I’d always thought of my father as a powerful man, but it wasn’t this kind of power. At least, I don’t think it was.

“There was a seat at the table for me, and I took it,” Levin says evenly. “Can’t have a game without players to deal cards to, Vasquez. If I beat your man, I beat him fair and square. And I didn’t get the money either, so I don’t have that to give to you.”

Vasquez’ lips twitch. “There’s some argument about just how fair and square it was,” he says slowly. “But I’m not going to debate that with you. I’m going to suggest a game of our own.”

I tense, but Levin doesn’t so much as flinch. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean a poker game. Here, in my home. See the kind of hospitality I offer you? You’ll play at a table chosen by me—with a neutral dealer, all fair and square, as you like to say. And if you win, you get what you want. I’ll let you leave with the Santiago girl—even get you that flight home to Boston you want so badly.”

“And if I lose?”

Vasquez shrugs. “Then the deal I made with Gonzalez stands. A bullet for you, and the girl stays with me, to be delivered to him when he arrives.”

Cold sweeps through me at that, a sick knot forming in my stomach. It feels like too much to be left to chance. Too dangerous. I can’t read what Levin’s thinking, but I can imagine it. If there’s no other way—

I don’t think Vasquez is going to let us leave his office, unless Levin agrees.

There’s a full few seconds where Levin remains silent, looking straight at Vasquez as if staring down the barrel of a gun.

“You can’t expect me to risk her life on a card game,” he says finally, and I see the gleam in Vasquez’s eyes. It’s what he’d wanted Levin to say.

“Let me talk to him.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken since we came into the room, and I see Vasquez glance at me, an expression of mingled curiosity and irritation in his gaze. “Just give me a moment.”

“Elena—” Levin hisses between his teeth, but I ignore him, reaching for his arm to tug him out of Vasquez’ earshot.

He follows me reluctantly—more out of a desire not to argue in front of Vasquez than anything else, I think. I know he’s going to be angry at me for not listening, for not letting him handle it alone. Still, I have an awful, sinking feeling that if Levin tells Vasquez no, there will be no leaving for either of us.

“I don’t think there’s any other way,” I whisper. “Keeping the deal with Diego is easiest for him. It doesn’t risk anything. But he’s entertained by the idea of making you play for it.” I hesitate. “Is he the kind of man to keep his word?”

Levin looks down at me, and I can tell he’s struggling to keep his patience. “From what I know of him, yes,” he says finally. “But Elena, I’m not risking—”

“What else are we going to do? Fight our way out?” I look up at him. “You can win this. And then we can leave. If you believe he’ll keep his word—we can leave.”

“Elena, I—”

“I have faith in you. You haven’t failed me yet. This is our chance—”

“I’ve failed others.” There’s a hint of desperation in Levin’s eyes. “I’ve failed in the past. And this time—”

---