Page 68 of Stolen Empire

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"Depends on what you are good at."

I hold his gaze for a moment, then look back at my cards.

"I'm good at a lot of things. But I don't work for free."

"No one's asking you to."

He flicks ash from his cigarette onto the floor.

"But if you're interested in making real money, you should talk to me after the game."

I nod, careful not to seem too eager.

"Maybe I will."

The game continues.

I lose more than I win, but I stay in long enough to seem committed.

When the final hand is dealt, I fold early and push back from the table.

"I'm done," I say, standing.

"This isn't my night."

I rub my hands down the skirt again and sigh hard, trying to look as defeated and upset as I can, but I'm not feeling that way at all.

I'm getting a rush of adrenaline at the idea of conning this loser any second.

The smoker stands as well.

"Walk with me."

I follow him out through the side door, into the alley behind the club.

The air is chilly against my skin and I hug my arms over my belly to try to stay a bit warmer.

He lights another cigarette, taking a long drag before speaking.

"My name is Daniil," he says.

"I work for people who pay better than Vetrov."

"Good for you."

I hug myself tighter, leaning against the wall.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You said you're good at a lot of things. I need someone to run an errand. It's a simple job. Drop an envelope at a boxing gym, report back who opens the door. You do that, I pay you two thousand rubles. No cut. No questions."

I raise an eyebrow and feign disinterest.

I keep hearing Dimitri's scolding in my head over and over.

We practiced this so much.

"That's it?"

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