Hidden Truths (Perfectly Imperfect #3)

“Yes?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Roman roars, and I quickly pull the phone away from my ear. The yelling continues for a minute or so, the usual warm family banter. All hearts and rainbows. “…chop you into small pieces, and then feed them to that beast of yours.”

“Mimi doesn’t eat raw meat.” I put the phone back to my ear and light a cigarette. “It’s bad for the digestive tract.”

“You have a week to find me a new buyer. A week. You got that?”

“I already talked with the Camorra last week. They’ll take twice the quantity we sold to Ukrainians. And, I have a meeting with some gangs in the suburbs this weekend. We’re good.”

“Damn it, Sergei.” He sighs.

“Shevchenko said something interesting before I dispatched him. It was about the Irish.”

“What?”

“They’re in negotiations with Diego Rivera. Sounds like they plan on intruding on our turf.”

“Oh, I’d love to see them try,” he snarls. “No more killing off our buyers, Sergei. You hear me?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“He’ll try his best. Wonderful,” Roman mumbles into the phone and hangs up on me.

* * *

As soon as I park my car in the garage, I take a detour to Felix’s place to take a shower and change. I tried not to get any blood on my shirt, but some ended up on my sleeve anyway. I don’t want Angelina to see it or be afraid of me. Also, allowing her to see me covered in blood would require explaining.

When I’m done, I head into the house. There’s no one downstairs, so I run upstairs and into my bedroom, whereAngelina is curled on the recliner, holding a book in her hands. For a moment, I think she’s reading one of my detective novels—I have tons—but I stop in my tracks when I notice the cover. She’s holdingAnna Karenina, Russian edition. Was Felix right about her?

She looks up from the book and meets my gaze. “How was the meeting?”

“Fine.” I lean on the doorframe and nod toward the book she’s holding. “You speak Russian?”

“Not exactly. I know some basics.” She shrugs. “I took a Russian course my freshman year but eventually decided to focus on English and Italian.”

“How much do you understand?”

“Well, I could probably ask for directions in Russian, and I remember the names of some fruits and vegetables. I know a lot of curse words, though.” She snorts, stands up from the chair, and walks toward the bookshelf to put the book back. “I loved the movie and wanted to try reading. I got stuck on the second sentence becausesomeonewouldn't let me use the laptop to check the translations.”

I leave my spot at the doorway, walk across the room until I am standing right behind her, and place my hands on the shelf on either side of her. Angelina sucks in a breath and turns around to face me.

“Are you lying to me again, Angelina?” I bend my head to look her directly in the eyes.

“About what?”

“Are you a spy, lisichka?”

She stares at me, then nods, her face a picture of seriousness. “Yeah. You totally busted me.”

I narrow my eyes.

“I went through rigorous martial arts training as well, so you should watch your back when I’m around.”

I look her over and burst out laughing. After her starvation, she’s rail-thin and wouldn’t be able to take on a squirrel. And even if she has lost some of her muscle mass, she doesn’t hold herself like a martial artist.

When my laughing subsides, I study her. She’s smiling, and I can’t remember the last time someone teased me. “Tell me something in Russian.”

“Now?” Her eyebrow curls upward. “What do you want me to say?”