Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
A chess piece I find myself revisiting far too often.
A shadow falls over the desk, alerting me to a presence in the doorway. When I glance up, Franco is there. He speaks in slow and succinct intervals, giving me adequate time and attention to read his lips.
“Katya is at the door again,” he announces.
“Send her away.”
He leaves without a response and I retrieve the bottle of cognac from my bottom drawer. By the time I have poured and finished the glass, Franco returns. He takes a seat across from me, his eyes on the chess board.
“Your move,” I tell him.
He takes his time, examining every piece. I have already taken control of the center and captured his rook. In several more moves, he will be sunk completely. The thing that Franco always seems to forget is that in his desperation to protect the King, he often leaves the Queen vulnerable.
I would never make that mistake.
“Is everything in place for tomorrow?” I ask.
He looks up at me and gives a simple nod. “It is all in place. The shipment will disappear and Arman will be in your debt.”
“And what of Viktor?”
“I’ve arranged for dinner tomorrow evening. You can speak to him then.”
He makes his move on the board, a careless one at that. I follow suit with an equally careless move because I’m bored of this game and I’d like him to challenge me, at least once.
“He will be reluctant to have you leave the country,” Franco notes. “He won’t want to risk you.”
“Then I will give him no other choice.” I shrug.
“What do you have in mind?” Franco asks.
“A problem with the Russian bank. Frozen accounts, perhaps.”
“Ah.” Franco rubs his chin in thought. “A problem only you can fix. Then you will suggest… two birds, one stone?”
I nod, but it’s only a matter of moments before Franco speaks the rest of what’s on his mind.
“Do you believe this is wise, Mr. Nikolaev?”
“Are you suggesting I am unwise?” is my reply.
He shakes his head. “You are many things. Unwise is not one of them. But I feel as though you might be acting impulsively. It is out of character for you.”
Out of character for me is leaving the sanctuary of my home. This is what Franco refers to. There have not been many occasions where I felt the need to leave. Every time I do so, I risk exposing my secret to those around me. To my fellow Vory.
Leaving the country is an even bigger risk. However, it is one I must take.
I meet Franco’s gaze. “Sometimes we must do things that we’d rather not. Is part of life, yes?”
“You have lied to Viktor,” he answers. “If he ever uncovers what you have done to retrieve this girl, there could be a war…”
“Considering that you and I are the only two souls who know, I find it highly unlikely. And besides, who would replace me?”
Franco makes a gesture with his hand, conceding.
“Nobody can replace you. This is why you take such risks. But this girl, I worry about her.”
He does not need to tell me the many ways this could go wrong. I have gone over them myself ceaselessly. It will undoubtedly strain my relations with Lachlan Crow and our Irish alliance. I gave them my word I would find her, and I did. But neither the Irish nor Viktor are aware of my true intentions with the girl. He will be angry, as Franco so obviously reminds me. But my position within the Vory is secured for life. Perhaps this is why I take risks. But I have weighed all sides of this matter carefully.
The end result, and the only result that matters, is that I will not be chained to Katya for the rest of my life. Franco knows this. And yet, I indulge his worries out of respect. He always has my best intentions at heart, so he deserves to be heard, even though it will not change my mind.
“Tell me what has you so concerned,” I suggest.
“She is likely to be highly unpredictable. It is impossible to say what state she will be in when you first meet her. The things she has been through. She will be damaged.”
I glance at the photograph of the girl on my desk. The one her friend Mack gave me in the hopes that I could find her. That I could save her. It is the photo I have studied night and day for the last three weeks. I know everything about her. I have read all her files. Uncovered all of her history up until the point she was sold. And the things Franco says are true. She is broken. She is damaged. I know this better than anyone.
I pour myself another cognac and raise my glass in agreement.
“And that is why she will be perfect.”