strand of her hair. It slid easily through my fingers. “Not even close.” I leaned closer to her, breath tickling her ear. “Why did you come to my office?”
Elena suddenly realized why she was here and snapped her head away from me, severing our gaze and the growing tension. “Danika wants to speak to you.” She lifted her chin up, trying to regain some control. “She said something about being beneath the baths?”
“Where we are keeping Ainsworth.” I gestured for her to walk in front of me; an act of chivalry, and an excuse for me to eye her backside. “Would you care to join me? Or is the attack still fresh in your mind?”
“No,” she said firmly. “I want to see this bastard. I want to hear what he has to say.”
I felt a smirk grow on my face. “Does La Cosa Nostra encourage such bloodthirstiness in their women?”
Her expression didn’t falter. “I think you would be surprised.”
I opened my mouth to respond when a head poked through the study door. “Oh, sorry to interrupt,” Tatiana gushed, her eyes dancing between the two of us. Color had returned to her cheeks. “I was wondering if I could come with you to see Ainsworth? Roksana doesn’t want to.”
Roksana hadn’t wanted to hear anything else about Ainsworth. The darkness of her past hadn’t released its hold on her just yet. But I knew Roksana, and she would overcome this setback. For all her delicacy, Roksana was the strongest of us all.
“You are always welcome, Tatiana.” I caught a flicker of uncertainty in Elena’s expression, but it was gone in seconds. I gestured to the women. “Shall we?”
Elena sighed. “Let’s go and waste our time with this piece of shit.”
19
Konstantin Tarkhanov
The steam and humidity from the banya above us caused the interrogation room to be sticky and too warm for comfort.
This was on purpose. A comfortable prisoner was not one that would easily share his secrets.
We moved through the damp tunnels, the sound of our feet and breaths echoing. Every now and then Tatiana would cry out as she spotted a rat, but nothing more was said beside soft words of comfort.
I knew it was because of me.
To see Edward Ainsworth, I couldn’t be the man who doted on Tatiana’s son or the one who flirted with Elena. I was the Pakhan of Staten Island. Konstantin Tarkhanov. The man who killed his father with his own necktie before he could drive a car.
There would be no weakness in my façade, in my mask.
I was king; they would bow.
We reached the room, only visible by a door stamped into the concrete wall. I knocked once, and Roman opened it. He peered behind my shoulder, eyes protective, “God,” he said and looked over his shoulder, “you invited everyone. It’s like a fucking family reunion.”
“Let them in,” came Danika’s bouncy voice.
Roman stepped aside as I entered, greeting me with a “Boss” before turning his attention to Tatiana and Elena behind me.
In the center of the room, illuminated by a single ray of light, Edward Ainsworth was tied to a chair. Sweat and blood soaked him, but the knotless hair and clean face told me that Danika had been working her magic, making him trust her.
And from the way his eyes followed her around the room, she had done a very good job.
“Edward,” I greeted.
His head snapped to me, eyes widening. He was still a bit slow after his fall, but Danika had been injecting him with a high dosage of pain medication. His broken bones and sprained muscles would feel like nothing but faint throbbing.
“You,” he breathed, and begun struggling in his restraints.
“Hey, hey, Eddie,” crooned Danika.
He turned to her immediately, drinking in the sight of her. She ran a comforting hand over his head, like a parent soothing a child.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Roman shift from foot to foot.
“You said you had something to tell me,” Danika murmured. “Can you please tell me?”
Edward’s eyes blurred as he looked between Danika and me. He wasn’t an anomaly; most of Danika’s little projects found themselves caught up between their love for Danika and their fear of me.
“You have to, Eddie,” she encouraged. “Or else Konstantin will have to hurt you. I don’t want that. Do you?”
Edward shook his head, clarity washing over his face. “I—I...” He blinked rapidly. “The next victim...”
Danika stroked his hair again, urging him to go on.
“The next victim...” His forehead furrowed and he looked at Danika. She muttered