Page 154 of Savage Don

My fingers dig into the handle of my gun and I just want to shoot a bullet directly through Sonia’s crazy fucking skull. But I know the second our talk is over, she’ll press that little red button on her remote, and I’ll be blown to bits.

I need to survive. For Francesca’s sake.

“You could have had everything,” I remind her, playing dumb. “Somehow, you managed to weasel your way into inheriting Andrew’s estate. His parents were already dead, Sonia. You have no excuses. Even if Domenico won’t push you on the matter, I will. You have more money than you know what to do with. And it’s not money you have to launder or hide under a mattress. You should have bought yourself an island and lived out the rest of your days sipping mojitos on a beach.”

“Would you have joined me?”

“Never.”

“Then, what’s the point?”

I know she’s just fucking with me, but I can sense some truth in her words. Has she really just been so obsessed with me this entire time?

Was I the only man to ever reject her?

“The point would have been that you were free,” I explain. “But now, whether you kill me or not, you’ll be hounded for the rest of your short life. You know the mafia doesn’t forgive. We don’t handle treachery lightly. We kill rats. And you are the biggest rat of them all.”

“Killing you doesn’t make me a traitor or a rat,” Sonia sneers in response.

“It does when you’re the wife of one of my underlings,” I remind her, before dropping the bomb. “And it does when you try to rat us out to the feds.”

“You don’t have any proof I did that,” Sonia quickly snaps back, but I can see the same worried look on her face that I saw last night after mentioning Artuzov’s name.

Does Sonia really not know about the recordings?

“How the fuck do you think I got the idea to come here today?” I ask, flabbergasted. This is making less sense by the second.

That question takes Sonia aback. And I can see her desperately searching her mind for something she might have missed.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asks, her lips twisting in confusion. “You’re here because I made sure you were here. I sent the bait to your little Russian assistant. An anonymous tip that said Domenico and I would be meeting another man like Artuzov here today—but that was just to draw you in. It doesn’t mean I ever worked with that commie bastard before. There’s nothing tying me to him.”

My little Russian assistant…

She’s talking about Maksim. The same Maksim who’s been out of commission since his run in with Artuzov.

Anyone who’s worth their salt knows that he isn’t working right now—and that means he isn’t taking calls or emails… or tips.

I’ve put Maksim on a strict vacation, despite his objections. The man may be getting restless already, but he’s not fully recovered yet. And until he is, I’m forcing him to take it easy.

Hell, he practically begged to come along with Leonid and I after he found out about our mission. But I wasn’t having it.

It seems everyone except him knows that he’s still on paid leave.

Well, everyone except him… and Sonia.

Fuck. That means that she really doesn’t know about the recordings.

She thinks Maksim sent me here.

“You don’t know about the recordings?” I mumble, unable to stop a smug grin from creeping onto my lips.

“… What recordings?”

Even through the Botox, I can see Sonia’s face drop.

“You were bugged last night,” I tell her. “Everything you said on your car ride home, everything you confessed, I have it on tape. So does everyone else. We know you’re the rat, Sonia. And we heard how happy Domenico was to go along with it all. It’s over, dear. You’ve lost.”

Sonia’s olive skin turns a ghastly shade of white as she realizes what just happened.