Page 127 of The Cute Psycho

Never loved.

Lately I've noticed a melancholy getting to me. For the first time I'm actually pondering things of a spiritual nature, wondering if maybe it's not too late for me.

It is too late.

I'm a fool for even hoping things might be different. I guess Sisi's arrival in my life has done a number on me. Feeling something other than boredom can wake even a dead man from his slumber.

And I've certainly been awoken. Now I just have to figure out a way to stay awake.

Looking at my watch, I realize it's time for the showdown.

I tighten the tie around my neck and head to the meeting room.

With so many things about Miles and Project Humanitas coming to light, I'd started thinking more in-depth about it, and a few glaring issues had arisen.

Most importantly, how is it that Miles and his partner had been able to approach both Misha and Giovanni Lastra? And they had earned their trust, too. So I'd started mapping out all the events, particularly leading up to Misha's coup.

I remember father had put him in charge of the New Jersey travel routes, and he'd been commuting between states to attend meetings and settle with providers. Was it during one of those trips that he met Miles?

The missing piece is the unknown partner. Without him, it's simply an endless puzzle, since he could have easily been the liaison between them.

But since now I have Miles' full name, I plan to set a small trap. I'd summoned all seconds-in-command tonight for a short meeting, hoping to summon a syndicate summit soon.

Not that I've been on good terms with any of the other pakhans, but they need me more than I need them. After all, New York is one ofthe biggest hubs on the East Coast. Knowing that, all evidence is pointing toward someone who'd stand to gain something from Misha's leadership, and so every pakhan on the East Coast falls under suspicion.

Now I'll just need to get them talking, and what better way than to hold a summit? I just need everyone together in the same place. I'll provide them with everything they desire—alcohol, drugs and women—and I'm just going to hope their tongues loosen up enough.

I'd try torture, but evenIam not that reckless to get the entire East Coast on my back. Well... half maybe, just notallof them.

And since everyone has a bone to pick with me, I'll have to be inventive with this invitation.

Exiting the room, I meet Seth.

"Ready?"

He nods, swinging the big backpack on his back. He's carrying a few interesting items that should make this party merrier.

"Then let the show begin." I wink at him.

About ten men are all waiting for me in the conference room, all gathered around the round table.

"Gentlemen," I greet them with open arms.

Seth takes his spot in the back as I walk around, shaking hands with everyone and kissing their cheeks.

One last kiss. Who said I'm not generous?

As I'm taking my seat at the top of the table, Maxim gives me a nod, closing the doors and locking us inside.

The men don't even notice that small detail, their attention focused wholly on me now.

"Say, Kuznetsov, why did you call us here?" One asks, and I have to squint my eyes at him, his name escaping me for the moment.

"Sorry, but who are you?" I ask, relishing the way outrage spreads over his features.

"What?" he sputters, looking offended.

Some of the other men are stifling laughter. Alas, a name is just a name, just like a grave is a grave.

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