“The odds are insane,” I agree, “but if his asshole buddies - who got sent back home to Sicily - have any connection in any possible way… You’ve exchanged pictures?”
He nods.
“First thing,” Tatiana interrupts. “Have Augustu delete every picture of you, including anything of you two together, even if it looks innocent, okay? Let me double-check your phone first and make sure your texting didn’t download any spyware.”
“Damn, look at my genius,” I murmur, kissing her.
“Thank you for being here for him,” she whispers, kissing me back.
Aleksandr’s phone dings cheerfully again.
You’re about to have so much more to worry about than your little boytoy, you bitch.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I said, unease spreading through me. It has something to do with Tatiana, I know it.
“Let’s focus on this,” she says, looking worried. “He’s got at least a dozen pictures on his phone, Aleks. This is bad.”
“What can we do?” His grip is so tight on the glass that I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered.
“Okay, okay, um…” Tatiana checks something else on her laptop. “Now that I have him, I can erase the data, it’s from one of those little assholes in his entourage. But they would still have it. If we get a hold of it, I can send a virus back via text that’ll wipe the scumbag’s phone.”
“You can’t set up a meeting,” I said, “he’ll prepared for an ambush. We have to catch him somewhere.”
“We can track his phone signal now,” Tatiana says. “Which means we have to follow him until we can get him out of view of one of the surveillance cameras.”
“Wait until tonight,” I said. “We’ll have better luck. Can you disable any of the cameras?”
She shakes her head, miserable. “I can’t even figure out their system, much less how to hack into it. Not by tonight, anyway.”
“Then tonight,” Aleks says, cold and composed. “I’ll handle it tonight.”
“We’ll handle it,” I told him. “You can’t do this alone.”
Chapter Thirty
In which blackmail and murder are no match for a nice, sharp lock-blade.
Tatiana…
“You know the easiest way to do this is to use me as bait.” I said flatly.
“That’s not going to fucking happen,” Lucca cut me off.
“Absolutely not!” Aleks said, looking furious at the thought.
“Look. We don’t have a lot of time,” I said, “Mateo is unstable and impulsive. He may have a way to contact your father already. We must get the pictures off his phone. After that, he’s just an asshole with no proof.”
“That’s not happening,” Lucca shook his head.
“We don’t have time to get all tricky here.” I sighed. “You’ll both be following me. Let’s go to dinner. Make sure he sees me leaving - alone - and one of you follow me, and one of you follow him. We have to get him. It must be now. I just… I feel it. It must be tonight.”
They’re both frowning at me, and I shake my head. “We’re going down to eat, do you hear me?”
Dinner would have been delicious - lamb and wild greens - but all I could think about was not looking at Mateo, gloating in the corner and ignoring Tansey who was trying to chat him up between gulps of merlot.
When I stand up, Lucca and Aleks do as well. “Such nice manners,” I said teasingly. “I’ve got to grab something from the library, I’ll see you later.”
There is an audible grinding of teeth that I would find amusing if it wasn’t for the fact that I am hoping that Mateo - that evil prick - is going to follow me. He wouldn’t go after Aleks, he’s a coward with only one hand. But he’ll probably assume terrifying me with the news is the next best thing.
The island comes alive at night. The wind is even more vicious as it whips around the buildings and lashes the unwary walker with the frigid air. The crows that gather on the cliffs are vociferous talkers when it’s as dark as their glossy feathers. And my steps on the limestone path echo, like an extra set of footsteps keeping time with mine.
I’m almost to the library and nearing a small grouping of trees and thick underbrush where I hope the little troll is hiding.
“I keep wondering which one of you Leonid Rostova will kill first. You, for being a whore, or his son for fucking men?”
At least he’s predictable…
“Why are you talking to me?” I snap, “Are you looking for another trip to the Dean’s office for a date with her table saw?”
Mateo’s eyes are glittering, he looks feverish and excited. “Maybe if you suck my dick, I’ll think about not telling the Pakhan of the Rostova Bratva that you’re a whore. Because that’s something your asshole brothers could never cover up. But your piece of shit fiancé? No fucking mercy.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“You don’t know about his little boyfriend? Of course, he looks cozy with Toscano, maybe they’re fucking, too.” Mateo laughs, it’s high and he sounds wildly excited.
“You’re lying,” I scoff, “that’s disgusting.”
“Stupida puttana, you stupid whore!” Mateo takes a sudden step toward me and I back away, keeping track of where we are in the shadows. When he thrusts his arm at me, I have to stifle a shriek. He loves this, of course. Grinning, he turns his phone to show me the screen with Aleks and his lover, arms around each other.
“Leonid Rostova will skin his precious son alive for fucking guys,” he says happily, “and I am going to be the one to-”
There’s a glint of silver behind him as a shadow materializes from the darkness. Mateo staggers and his eyes bulge horribly. His mouth opens, a long trail of spit nearly reaching his shirt before he’s yanked backward into the trees, their spindly arms reaching down in the wind to embrace him.
Lucca…
I come from a family of assassins. It’s how our famiglia have made our fortunes in Italy as far back as the 15th century. We have always been obsessed with knives of every kind. Both of my brothers have a huge collection.
As for me? I’ve found that a simple lock blade works just fine. It takes less than three seconds to step up behind Mateo, stab him in the left kidney, twist as I pull it out, then drive the blade into his right one, another twist and he’s dead.
It takes the victim a couple of seconds to realize what happened, and then the agony slams down on them like a hammer, and the few minutes left in their life are spent in excruciating pain. My only regret - as I drag Mateo into the trees - is that I can’t make him suffer longer.
Aleks recovers more quickly than Tatiana, who is gaping at me in shock. He scoops up Mateo’s phone off the ground where he dropped it as I stabbed him and hands it to her.
“Come on,” I whisper, “we have ten minutes to get him to the blind spot by the cliffs before the guards walk the route.” I wrap a sweatshirt from the lost and found at the gym around Mateo’s waist to keep him from leaving a blood trail. He’s still alive, his eyes reflecting his agony, his legs and arms already useless. Throwing him over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold, I nod to Tatiana to lead the way, while Aleks follows behind us to make sure we’re not seen.
“Stop!” he whispers. We all freeze as two students walk into the library, laughing about one of the professors. “Go on,” he hisses when it’s clear.
Tatiana walks lightly, stepping into the shadows as gracefully as a dancer, moving from one pool of darkness to the next, keeping us out of sight of the surveillance cameras. When we make it to the edge of the path that crumbles to the edge of the cliff, Aleks grabs Mateo’s legs and we swing him between us, as far out as we can hurl him.