Page 91 of The Lies Between Lovers

Vaslav was nothing if not a man of his word.

He almost scowled the longer he considered Igor’s news. “She didn’t mention anything about coming here?”

“I heard her friend in Italy called. Kiril finally got the phone to her late last night. Someone might know about the ex-husband being dead, and the two were on the phone for a significant time. She was tired according to Kiril. Once she got home—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interjected with a wave of his fist. Vaslav openly frowned, and a sigh escaped the tension that had taken up space in his chest. “Of course, the friend.”

Hannah couldn’t exactly be planned for, he supposed. He didn’t know much else about the woman Vera called a friend except for minor details that connected the woman to a man Vaslav murdered. Getting that extra day of Vera in the hospital had been beneficial for Vaslav in two ways because he needed to deal with her father’s untimely arrival before she was aware he had done it. And for second, he felt better about her recovery.

That didn’t mean he liked it.

Or rather, liked the fact all of it would keep her away from him. Even if it wasn’t for very long.

“Good news,” Vaslav said, mocking Igor’s earlier tone, “everything went exactly as it should.”

“And you sound very annoyed about it,” Igor noted, not even stifling his amusement.

Well ...

“I’m as confused about it as you,” he uttered, reaching for the remote. What he refused to say or admit was that he couldn’t help the way Vera made him feel. Not when she was close, never mind when she wasn’t. Nobody said it wasn’t a problem.

Vaslav just didn’t care.

Once he had the already-low volume of the broadcast muted entirely, he scrubbed a trembling hand over his tight jaw to loosen the muscles. Not that it worked.

“It was on the news last night,” Vaslav said. “About the body.”

“Body parts,” Igor clarified.

Vaslav grunted non-committedly. “Speculation about rumblings inside the judiciary that it could be mafiya related, but no one will confirm. I don’t like that there’s any suggestion at all. It’s concerning when a body is basically just found and people,” he snapped, gesturing at the muted TV, “are already connecting it correctly to me.”

“That’s a bit beyond my control. You can pay every Politsiya Rossii in this country to find and see nothing, but your control might as well be non-existent in the media at this point. People are going to ask why bodies keep coming up in the canal, and someone is going to try to answer that question for them. Interesting stories keep bored people watching where they’re wanted. So, call up your—what would you like me to call him? I know it’s a touchy subject.”

Vaslav’s teeth ached from his clenching jaw. “Does it matter?”

“Not particularly. Call him. Pull some strings. I heard he’s settled in well as the Prosecutor General.”

Goddamn Igor.

Straight to hell.

“You’re trying hard to ruin my morning,” Vaslav snarled.

Igor didn’t even bat an eye at the sudden rage, and he only briefly glanced toward the corner of the den at the one shifting lump of wrinkled clothes and hog-tied limbs before coming back to his boss. “Get him to go on record somewhere and say that there are no rumblings. How much higher in the branch can you get than the Prosecutor General of Russia? If he says there’s nothing, there’s nothing.”

A beat of silence passed.

Then, another.

“I really hate it when you’re right, Igor.”

He hated it even more that he admitted it.

His companion squinted. “Why—isn’t it a good thing?”

“Not when it means I’ll have to ask my mother for a goddamn favor.”

And probably dinner, too.