by Carsen Taite
Carlo and Siobhan exchanged looks, but Royal couldn’t get a read on what they were thinking. “Please forgive me,” she said. “I have overstepped. Of course, you have your reasons, and I’m happy to serve you in whatever capacity you request.”
“We do have our reasons,” Carlo said. “Siobhan will tell you what you need to know. Are you willing to accompany her to this meeting? She will not have anyone else with her there and I will be relying on you to keep her safe.”
It was an odd ask, but there was no way Royal was going to say no to the opportunity to be the first federal agent to get close to Petrov, ever. “Of course. I will do whatever you want, not just because you’ve asked, but because I don’t want any harm to come to Siobhan.”
“Legend has it once you save someone’s life, they are your charge for life,” Carlo said with the hint of a smile. “Are you willing to accept this burden?”
“It is no burden to me.” Royal turned to Siobhan and injected as much sincerity as she could into her next words. “It would be my honor to accompany you.”
Siobhan’s expression remained impassive, but Royal spotted a hint of emotion in her eyes. Did she really want to meet Petrov with Royal as her only protection or was she doing it to please the old man? The real question was why did she care so much about the safety of a woman she was charged with bringing down?
“Excellent,” Siobhan said. “We should get going. Neal will drive us, but only you and I will enter Petrov’s compound.” She stood and assisted Carlo to his feet, a tender moment that illustrated his vulnerability and age in a way Royal doubted many people ever witnessed, and she was tempted to look away to allow them to share this tender father-daughter-like moment.
She rode in the back of the Suburban with Siobhan, conscious of the fact the partition between the front and back seat was open. “What’s the plan when we get there?”
“I don’t have one,” Siobhan said. “Not a single one, anyway. My plan is to get a message across to Petrov that his threats and continued assaults on our business will not be tolerated.”
“And you think he’ll be receptive?”
“I think he’ll be an ass. My research says he’s mystified by powerful women. Most of the women he comes into contact with are the prostitutes he farms out to the rich and powerful. Kneeling, on their backs—those are the positions he’s used to women occupying. He doesn’t understand someone like Carlo, who relies on the advice of his daughter and has a female consigliere.”
“So, your strategy is to knock him off his game,” Royal said. “And you figured adding another woman to the mix would add to the effect.”
“Something like that. I also want him to know I’m not afraid of him. Sending someone to tell him to stop threatening me would convey the exact opposite message.”
Royal glanced at Neal, who was consulting directions on her phone, and said in a low voice, “And here I hoped you invited me along because you wanted to see me again.” She traced a finger lightly along Siobhan’s thigh.
Siobhan batted her hand away. “You shouldn’t thank me until we’re on the way home. This visit could be dangerous.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
“Fear is healthy. It means you value life.”
Royal rolled the thought over in her head. Siobhan had a point. She’d experienced fright many times in her career, but it was the will to live that got her past her fears and safely out the other side. She’d been certain she was going to die at Danny’s hand just a few weeks ago, but the fear had motivated her to do whatever it took to get out of the van and away from danger. Lucky for her, fate had intervened in the form of an oncoming bus. Every time she’d been afraid of dying, she’d come out the other side, alive and well. Most people emerged from circumstances like hers with a new lease on life, but she’d merely escaped ready to face death again. What did that say about her?
A few minutes later, Neal turned the Suburban off the road and onto a gravel road that appeared to lead into the woods. “Where are we?” Royal asked, a little embarrassed she hadn’t paid closer attention to the route.
“Rockwall. His place is on the lake. About a quarter mile up ahead.”
Royal kept her eyes trained on the path, determined to pay close and careful attention to every detail from here on out. She might have nine lives, but Siobhan might not be so lucky, and she took the oath she’d made to Carlo seriously. She told herself making promises to mob bosses was part of the role, but the truth was she really did care about Siobhan. She was more vulnerable than she let on, and Royal wanted to protect that part of her and keep her safe from harm. If that meant she was more risk-averse than normal, so be it, but at the end of the meeting with Petrov, Siobhan was going to walk out of there unharmed. No matter what.
Chapter Fifteen
Siobhan listened as Neal negotiated with the guard at the gate who wanted her to drop them off and come back later.
“That wasn’t the deal,” Neal said. “I’ll wait in the car, but I’m not leaving Ms. Collins here without a ride home.”
The guard leaned in and looked in the back seat. He pointed at Royal. “Who is this?”
Siobhan saw Royal start to answer, but she beat her to it. “She’s with me. I told your boss that I wouldn’t be alone. Surely he has people of his own he will want to have in the room when we speak. He can’t possibly think I wouldn’t want the same.”
“Hold on.” He ducked back out the window, and she watched him make a call. Although he spoke in Russian, she was sure she could surmise the content of the conversation. A moment later, he stuck his head back in the window.
“Okay, you,” he pointed at Neal, “stay in the car. Park to the right of the main building.” He didn’t mention Royal, and Siobhan assumed it was because whoever he’d spoken to had confirmed what she said. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad she wouldn’t have to enter Petrov’s complex alone.
The ride to the house was bumpy but quick, considering it felt like they were miles from the road in this remote location. Truthfully, they were fairly close to roads and other civilization. Unlike many of his lakefront neighbors, Petrov had left much of the greenbelt intact, giving the illusion of seclusion.
Royal stepped out of the SUV first and helped her down. Neal rolled down the driver’s side window.
“I’ll be close by if you need me,” she said. She pointed at Siobhan’s bag in the back seat. “Do you want to take that?”
Siobhan shook her head. “No. I don’t want Petrov’s men searching my things. And don’t worry. I’m glad you’re here, but we’ll be fine,” she said, tossing her a bone. She knew it had to grate on her that she’d chosen Royal to accompany her, but she couldn’t let feelings factor into her strategy. She glanced back at Royal and amended the thought, acknowledging feelings might have already wound their way in.
She watched Neal drive off and park in a spot about fifty feet from the front door of the large, plain concrete building. She knew from Google Earth there were several more buildings behind this one. So far, she wasn’t impressed—the complex was ugly compared to the Mancuso mansion, but she would reserve judgment until they were inside.
A butler met them at the door. Well, that was one thing Petrov and Carlo had in common. He told them to wait in the foyer and marched out of the room to report their arrival.
The cavernous foyer looked like a small ballroom, and it was almost as big as her apartment. The edges of the room were decorated with ornate statues and gaudy paintings, including an enormous portrait of Mikhail Petrov seated on a horse with a pack of dogs along beside. The whole room was a museum curated by a drunk hero worshipper, and it told her Petrov surrounded himself with people who told him what he wanted to hear—a fact that didn’t bode well for their meeting.
But in the meantime, she could appreciate the grandeur of the place. Any moment she expected to see a couple glide by, dancing to a classic waltz. She remembered how, when she was a small child, her mother had danced with her in the ki
tchen, replicating the dances from the fancy parties Mrs. Mancuso had thrown when she’d been alive. Mrs. Mancuso hadn’t been very friendly to her, but she did let her join Dominique and Celia when they got to stay up late and watch portions of their parents’ extravagant parties. Dominique made fun of the guests, but Siobhan was riveted by the spectacle of their finery and festive dances.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up into Royal’s eyes to see them full of concern. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You looked like you were very far away just now,” Royal whispered. “If you don’t want to do this, we can leave.”
Siobhan took a moment to consider her answer. What she wanted to say was that no sane person would be “up for this,” but the admission was too telling to make while they were here in Petrov’s home where anyone could be listening in. “No,” she replied, purposefully making her tone brisk. “I do want to be here, and I hope you do too.”
Royal didn’t have time to answer before the butler reappeared and ushered them farther into the house. The hallways were filled with more tributes to Petrov and Russian culture, and by the time the butler stopped in front of the door where presumably Petrov was waiting, she’d had her fill.
“Mr. Petrov is waiting for you,” the butler said and opened the door with a flourish.
The room was as gaudy as the rest of the house. A large white bearskin rug was in the center of the room and Petrov, wearing a sharply tailored forest green suit, was seated on a gold chair that looked suspiciously like a throne. He rose as they entered. “Come in, come in. It is my honor to be your host.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, Siobhan had not anticipated the friendly greeting, and it almost caught her off guard. Almost. She took his hand and stared him directly in the eyes. “Hello, Mikhail. It’s been a long time.”
“It has, and much has changed since our last meeting.” He jerked his chin in Royal’s direction. “Who is this? Another family member who is not actually part of the family?”
She bit back a smart retort, instead motioning for Royal to step forward. “This is Royal Flynn. She is my protege. I brought her with me today to learn how one handles a difficult situation. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not. I too brought friends to our meeting.” He gestured to the back of the room where two large men stood guard. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
She smiled and dipped her head to acknowledge the touché.
He raised a tall, thin glass filled with a clear liquid that she suspected was vodka. How cliché. “Would you like a drink?”
She would. She’d like an entire bottle, but she wasn’t about to take a drink from someone known to use poison to kill his enemies, plus she wanted to remain sharp. “Another time, perhaps. I have a lot of work to do today.”
“What a shame to spend a Sunday working.” He motioned to two chairs arranged in front of his. “Have a seat. Let us discuss the reason for your visit. Have the Mancusos finally changed their mind about our business arrangement?”
She sat in one of the chairs and watched Royal cautiously settle into her seat. She could feel Royal’s tense, raw energy from several feet away, and she wanted to reach out to her, reassure her she was used to dealing with bullies like Petrov. They weren’t much different from the federal prosecutors who often wielded their power like blunt instruments in their attempt to beat defendants into submission. She’d learned to combat these practices by being smarter and better prepared since the law was often not on her side. “I’m not here to discuss business arrangements. Did your people not inform you of the reason for this visit?” She added extra inflection at the end of her question to signal she considered his people to have failed him by not preparing him for this meeting.
He laughed. “They did, but I did not believe them because what they told me was so incredulous. You have started a rumor that I tried to run you down in the street, raided several of your businesses, and then placed a bomb at a social event. You must think I have nothing else to do but pursue you. Are you that important to the Mancuso family?”
That was a good question, and she wasn’t sure she knew the answer. Carlo relied on her counsel more so now than before he’d become ill. If she wasn’t there to take charge, would Dominique step up or would she stay in her role as the petulant child? D was certainly capable. She knew everything Siobhan knew, and being in charge of the books meant she had an added in with the organization, as if she needed one since she carried the Mancuso name.
She decided to ignore Petrov’s question. “If it’s not you, then who is it?”
He raised his shoulders in an exaggerated motion. “I have no idea, but perhaps if I were to find out for you, you might be more amenable to reopening a discussion about how we may work together. I have many contacts I can put to use if I believe doing so would reward us both.”
She studied him carefully. He had as many reasons to lie to her as he did to make this outlandish offer. The purpose of her visit today wasn’t to get him to tell her the truth, but to issue a warning. But what if he wasn’t the one responsible for the attacks? It would be foolish to pass on the opportunity to put his intel to use, and as much as she wanted to tell him to fuck off, she wanted his information more. Stringing him along would be dangerous business, but no more dangerous than not pursuing every lead. “If you are lying, we will crush you.”
He raised his almost empty glass and laughed again, but this time his laughter fell flat in the face of her threat. “You had better hope you never have to make good on that promise.” He set the glass down and leaned forward. “I’m feeling generous today, so I will assume you didn’t mean any harm to me but were merely speaking out of frustration. I will provide you with answers and you will reconsider our arrangement. If not, perhaps I will have to go into business with whoever it is that is set on bringing your little empire down.”
She stood and tossed her card on the coffee table in front of his faux throne. “You have forty-eight hours to contact me with verifiable information.” She snapped her fingers at Royal, who hopped to her feet, and then she said her good-bye to Petrov accentuated by a sharp jab of her index finger. “We’re done. For now.”
❖
Royal followed Siobhan to the Suburban, resisting the urge to check her six on the way out of Petrov’s concrete palace. She knew Siobhan’s finger snapping was all part of the show she was putting on for Petrov, but damn if her show of power wasn’t sexy.
Neal started the car as they approached, and within moments, they were out of the compound and on the highway back to Dallas.
“Thoughts?” Siobhan asked.
Royal had been examining the content of Siobhan’s conversation with Petrov since they’d walked out of his fur-lined drawing room, and she couldn’t deny he’d seemed sincere. Her instincts told her Petrov knew more than he was letting on, but if he did already know the identity of who had it in for the Mancusos, why wouldn’t he go ahead and share that information as a kind of olive branch to get them to agree to revisit their business arrangement? She could think of two reasons: he really was the culprit, or he didn’t think Siobhan had the power to close the deal on the spot. If it was the latter, then he’d want her to go back and get Carlo’s buy-in before handing over valuable intel. And if he thought that, then why would he also think that taking Siobhan out would be a huge blow to the family? “He doesn’t think you have the power that you do. Or that you speak for the family.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Royal led her through her logic. “I believe that he didn’t target the family, at least not on his own. But I think he’s testing the waters to find out who’s really in charge. Does he know that Carlo is ill?”
Siobhan shot a look at the front of the Suburban, but the partition was up and Neal appeared to be fully focused on the road. “How do you know Carlo is ill?”
Royal scrunched her face. “Because I have eyes. Besides the wedding, when was the last time he a
ppeared in public?”
Siobhan looked distressed. “He doesn’t leave the mansion much anymore. He can still get around, but his body pays the price for several days after a lot of exertion. The wedding took a lot out of him.”
Royal reached for Siobhan’s hand and intertwined their fingers, wanting to comfort her, tell her everything would be all right, but that would be a lie, so instead she merely said, “I doubt anyone at the wedding noticed. He looked like he was having a great time. What does he have?”
“Liver cancer. It was slow at first, but it has progressed in the past few months.”
“Who else knows?”
“You mean besides you?” Siobhan offered a rueful smile. “Dominique. Michael. Salvadore. I expect some other members of the house staff have figured out he hasn’t been feeling well, but I doubt they know exactly what’s going on.” She pointed at the partition. “Neal probably knows, but I haven’t told her. She’s observant.”
Royal filed that fact away. “Celia doesn’t know?”
“No. He wanted us to keep it from her. With the wedding and all…”
Siobhan’s voice trailed off, and Royal wanted to scoop her in her arms, kiss her head, and tell her everything would be okay. But Siobhan wasn’t a small child in need of comfort. She was a grown woman who had to make peace with this in her own way, but at the first sign she wanted comforting, Royal was determined to be there.
“I think Petrov knows. He may not have the specifics, but someone has told him enough for him to believe there is a shift in power or there’s going to be. It may be in your best interest to align with him now before someone else does.”
“Who would that someone be?”
“I don’t know. Some other family who wants to edge in on your businesses?”
“Maybe.” Siobhan shook her head. “I have to think this through.”
“We’re almost back at the mansion. Carlo may have some ideas.”
