Stolen from the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance(93)

“Well, I’m just happy to see you,” Nikita says, pouring me up a vodka and cranberry, even adding a little slice of lime. That’s new. “Not many pleasant faces around here,” she adds, and I know it. These men have no concern for women like her—they’re just cargo or commerce, to be used up until worthless.

I try the drink, and to my surprise I like it, that lime adding a touch of something I didn’t know I was missing.

“Truth be told, Nikki,” I say, leaning in, speaking to her in confidence, “I am curious as to the word on my latest job.”

She arches a brow at me, looking truly surprised.

“That’s not like you, Mikhail,” she says, putting the vodka bottle back. And I note it’s even the kind I like. Russian Standard, straight from home. Nothing’s quite as smooth as it. She’s so damned considerate of me, like a little sister I never had.

“This is a… special case,” I say simply. “A very big job. Wondering what the word on it around town is.”

“You always get the big ones,” she says, leaning in closer herself, talking quietly. “Not much is being said. More hush-hush than usual. So it must’ve been very important,” she says, searching my eyes for an answer, but I give none. No flicker in my face to betray an ounce of info.

“So nothing, then?” I ask to confirm, but she licks her lips and peers down, thoughtfully.

“I overheard some of the guys talking earlier,” she says softly to me. “Word from a crooked cop was that security cameras showed a witness to a big hit was unaccounted for. They are looking for her.”

Fuck.

“How recent was this?” I ask, trying not to betray my urgency. But she can pick up on it, I think.

“Just about forty minutes ago,” she says, and she reaches beneath the bar, taking out the vodka again and pouring me a straight shot. “Very fresh news, they’re putting out the word now.”

“There a description of the girl?” I ask, then down the vodka she poured me in one smooth motion.

“Vasili,” she says, pointing her chin towards the weasley man. “He has some info on her, I believe. They’re looking into things now.”

“Thanks, Nikki,” I say, sliding a hundred dollar bill across the bar to her. Her eyes widen and she looks to me.

“If I hear anything more, I’ll let you know,” she says, and I nod.

“I know you will. Stay safe, little one,” and she rolls her eyes at me, being far from little. She is 5’8” and a grown woman, after all. But I still saw her as the famished, undernourished girl they hauled out of the dockyards.

I turn to leave, but then in through the front doors comes the boss. The Avtoritet.

He’s escorted on both sides by two young brutes he trusts, and while the sneer he holds makes it look like he’s ready to make every occupant of the bar feel like shit, his gaze settles on me. And I steal some of the thunder from his entry.

“Volkov,” he says, using my last name, and I know he’s struggling on how to handle my presence. I never come around, which makes things easier for him. Seeing as I was the guy who passed up his position. The guy who had every right to be over him, but was only technically under his authority.

It’s an awkward situation for him, I admit.

“Gregorovich,” I say with a simple nod in return, which is more than the vile shit deserves from me. I loathe this man, not just for what he’s done, but for how he gives me so few things to insult him about. He’s not fat, he’s not ugly; he’s just a manipulative bastard who plays things cautiously all the time. Too cautious. Cautious to the point of paranoia.

Which would all be excusable, except he’s also greedy.

And a greedy, paranoid mafia boss is a dangerous thing for everyone.

“How nice of you to pay us a visit,” he says, tugging open his thick overcoat as Nikita rushes around to help him out of it. “I trust everything is alright?” And with that brow arched at me, I know I have already engaged more of his suspicion than I wish to.

“Just visiting an old friend,” I say, giving a light smile to Nikita, which she bashfully returns. I don’t generally let slip any emotion around these men, but it’s important they know who I favor, so they know better than to mess with her.

“I see,” Gregorovich says, looking me over once more than Nikita as well. “Well it’s fortunate timing, there’s a matter we can discuss. In back,” he says, leading the way. It’s the most presumptuous thing he’s yet dared do with me in front of others.

Surprisingly, however, along the way he gestures for Vasili to follow. He’s a two-bit crook, and why he’s being trusted with anything baffles me.