Page 45 of Love to Defy You
Mikhail snorts. “Yeah?”
“If I walk out those doors, will I get my throat slit?”
He shifts in his seat. “You made it through the feast, so no. You’re safe. But I’m your ride home, remember?”
I throw back the rest of my whiskey before slamming the glass on the coffee table, then extinguish my cigar in the remaining ice. “I’ll amuse myself until you’re ready to leave.”
“What about our billiards game?”
“I’m sure Lord Hades here can play with you.” I jut my chin at Enzo.
Enzo’s broad grin grows wider, revealing his prominent canine teeth. “It would be my pleasure to take your place.”
I stand up and adjust my suit, but as I scan the room, something feels off about the crowd gathered here. There are so many unfamiliar faces, and I presume they’re the ones who wear cloaks during the rituals. It makes those I recognize stand out against the crowd—the other candidates.
After a quick count, I round on Enzo. “There are candidates missing. The twins.”
“Ah, good eye.” He takes a long pull from his cigar, but the corners of his mouth are pulled into a smirk. When he exhales, he blows a ring of smoke toward my face. “Those two made the mistake of going to the police after the Trial of Mortality. Happens every year, unfortunately.”
Mikhail glances at the floor and ticks his jaw.
“What they don’t know is that the police answer to us.” With a chuckle, Enzo shakes his head and grins.
When I glance at Mikhail, he glances up and meets my eye. His hard gaze is penetrating, as though he’s trying to convey a message. A warning.
If you squeal, you’re dead.
My stomach knots. “Excuse me.”
Clearing my throat, I turn my back on Enzo and the rest of the group, then disappear into the crowd. I wasn’t in a party mood before, but now I’m anxious to get out of here as fast as I can.
The Order of Apollo seems to know everything about me, and yet I know almost nothing about them. Enzo Messina is the son of the Sicilian Whore, but there’s more to his story, and I need to find out what it is.
I search the room for one of the lingerie-clad women patrolling the room. In the corner, a cigar girl restocks her tray, and I approach her.
“Do you speak Russian?” I ask in my native tongue.
She glances up in surprise. “Da, ser.”
“Who hired you to work tonight? Was it Enzo Messina?”
I need to know my enemy, and that includes his darkest secrets. If he’s the one who hired two dozen prostitutes, I can use that information. Prostitution may be legal in Switzerland, but human trafficking is not.
And I’m willing to bet these Russian women are not here on a business trip.
“No,ser. We work for Mr. Aslanov.”
I pause. “Mikhail?” I narrow my gaze. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,ser.”
Mikhail’s father heads the largest crime syndicate in Russia, so I shouldn’t be surprised that involves dealings in the sex trade. Mikhail has never spoken to me about his involvementin nefarious business dealings; I was better off not knowing the specifics to keep my hands clean.
But perhaps it’s time I find out.
The cigar girl rakes her gaze over me before focusing on the zipper of my pants. She steps forward and places her palm on my chest, dragging it lower toward my abdomen. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to show you a good time.”
Before she goes past my belt, I grab her wrist. “No, I’ve already made arrangements.” I flick her hand off me with the same care I’d give a cockroach.
