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“He was angry at us for taking the alcohol while leaving the money behind,” I finish, and chuckle. “Father of the year.”
“Be sure to get some kind of proof when we kill Yakov,” Ivan tells me after a pause. “Dimitri might be your future father-in-law, but we both know he can be a real pain in the ass. Don’t give him a reason to question you.”
“You’re right,” I agree, knowing he’s just trying to look out for me as he has ever since we were kids. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“Have some good news for me, at least?” he asks.
“Nyet.” I shrug. “Well, I guess it depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not you still fancy my sister,” I reply with a smirk.
Ivan huffs out a chuckle, but it sounds forced. I decide it’s best to put him out of his misery. I’ll need him focused when we get to Gargarin’s bar.
“Katya’s coming for the wedding,” I tell him, watching him carefully for his reaction.
Ivan keeps his expression neutral, his eyes firmly on the road. “Oh,” is all he says, followed by a curt nod. He’d be a terrible poker player.
“Yeah,” I say with a grin, and shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. You have even less chance with her than you did when we lived in Moscow. She’s a hotshot lawyer now. Apparently, she and Vasily spend a lot of time together.”
“That leaves you as the odd one out,” he says, as if I didn’t know that already. “The black sheep, who chose the life of organized crime.”
“Foreign Intelligence Service isn’t that much better,” I mutter. “They do what they want under the pretense of keeping mother Russia safe.”
“I take it that Vasily’s also coming to the wedding,” Ivan guesses, and I nod. “I figured as much. I doubt he’d send you his men without wanting something in return. Be careful, Nik. Your brother’s a different kind of powerful man than you’re used to dealing with.”
“I know,” I confirm. “It’s a good thing I have you to watch my back.”
“If we come out of this alive, I’ll be happy to keep on doing my job,” he says. “Unless Katya finally opens her eyes to the truth and realizes that I’m the man of her dreams.”
I chuckle and watch the shimmering city beyond the tinted windows. Katarina’s probably pacing her parents’ house, counting the seconds until I’m back, sipping on ginger tea. I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep a smile from spreading across my face.
She and I really are two of a kind.
Naturally attracted.
At odds with the world.
It’s a sinful match made in hell.
When one of the three men sitting in the back clears his throat, I’m pulled back to the present. We’re nearly there.
The plan is to go straight to the bar and enter through the front door. Anyone with a gun is an open target. If Yakov isn’t there, we’ll force the bartender to make the call.
That’s the plan for the best-case scenario.
However, like theories, best-case scenarios often don’t work out in real life either.
Which is why I shouldn’t be surprised that shit hits the fan the moment we arrive.
Igor’s car is the first in our convoy. I’m clutching my gun.
There are already a few smoke plumes around the perimeter of the bar, but one spot glows brighter than the others.
“Fuck,” Ivan hisses. “Something’s burning. I smell gasoline.”
“And gunpowder,” I add, and jump out of the car just before Ivan hits the brakes.
