Vow of Deception (Deception Trilogy #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,17
did. If I suppress him, no one talks about him.
My session of reading my emails is interrupted by a number flashing on my screen. I don’t save names on my phone, even though it’s encrypted and I can virtually destroy it the moment it’s stolen.
One of the benefits of my parents’ tyranny is that they taught me to always be ready. Never take anything or anyone for granted.
So when I recognize the digits on the screen, I stare up at Kolya. “Since when does Kirill have my new number?”
He frowns. “No clue, sir.”
I contemplate ignoring him like I did the other two brigadiers, but Kirill doesn’t call to chat.
“Volkov,” I answer.
“Morozov,” he mimics my closed off tone.
“What do you want, Kirill?” I speak in Russian.
“Does this mean I can’t check on you after you’ve been absent from the Bratva’s meeting?” he asks in the same language.
“I’m hanging up.”
“Jesus Christ. Loosen up a little.”
“I’ll loosen up in death.”
“I doubt it.”
“Do you have a point behind your call, Kirill? Because you just wasted time I could’ve used to find out the best investment route V Corp can take in the upcoming months.”
“I’m waiting for a shipment to arrive, so you’re not the only busy one, asshole.”
“You want help with customs?”
“It’s taken care of. That’s not the reason behind my call.”
“Then what is?”
“Information and rumors that I thought you should be wary of. What should I start with?”
Kirill isn’t the type who offers anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’s cunning and only gives when he knows he can take twice as much. If I receive anything from him now, he won’t hesitate to ask me for things in the future. I could hang up and ignore him, but he has his ways of acquiring crucial details that even I can’t get a hold of.
The difference between us is that I’m strategic in a methodical way. He’s strategic but in the chaotic sense. He waits for things to happen before he reacts to them, making him the ultimate opportunist.
“Information,” I say.
There’s a rustling from his end and distant chattering in Russian. I can imagine him and his men waiting at a secluded warehouse in the cold for the shipment to arrive. “Richard Green’s murder is being investigated.”
“That’s nothing new. I know the police have got their noses in it.”
“This is not a police investigation. It’s Vladimir’s. The Pakhan ordered him to look into it.”
I pause as his words register. I expected Sergei to ask me to investigate it further, not Vladimir.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Kirill continues. “I had the same thoughts. Why ask Vladimir when you’re the one who usually takes care of that stuff? Lucky for you, I’m a fast thinker and came up with two possible scenarios. Do you want to hear?”
“Spill. And stop wasting my time.”
“How I keep up with you is a mystery. Anyway, back to my scenarios. One, the Pakhan doesn’t want to distract you from growing our alliance with the Italians. Two,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “He suspects you.”
I tap my fingers on the arm of the sofa as the meaning behind his words reaches me loud and clear. If Sergei suspects me, everyone else does, too. So I choose to probe Kirill, “Why would he suspect me?”
“I don’t know, let me take a wild guess.” He speaks slowly, too slowly, drawing out the words in a provocative manner. “Let’s see. We were all counting on getting Richard to become mayor so we could get our hands on easy shipments without having to threaten the DEA at every turn, but suddenly, he’s dead. Suddenly, the Italians’ candidate is now on the road to be mayor. If I were Sergei, I would suspect the one who’s getting cozy with the Italians.”
Makes sense. At least none of them figured out the actual reason.
“I’d show up more if I were you,” Kirill continues. “Your absence only allows the others to speak behind your back.”
“The others? As in, you’re not involved in the backstabbing?”
“What do you think I am? I don’t bite the hand that feeds me. Jesus.”
“Hanging up.”
“You’re not going to ask about the rumors?”
“Not interested in rumors.”
“It concerns your wife.”
My fingers stop tapping for a second before I resume. If I show Kirill even an ounce of interest, he’ll latch on to it like a mad dog.
He’s an opportunist—a ruthless one at that.
“Still not interested.” I sound bored, even to my own ears.
“Listen anyway and answer with yes or no.” The Russian noises get quieter