Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
“I do a lot of things on a daily basis,” the assassin says smoothly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Oleg glances over his shoulder to where his family is having breakfast. Lowering his voice, he grits out, “Alex Volkov should be dead by now. Instead, he’s running around St. Petersburg, very much alive.” Despite the control he’s forcing, his voice rises in volume. “And working very hard on finding out who’s behind the assassination attempt.”
When his wife, Annika, looks up, he gives her a smile, indicating all is well when nothing could be further from the truth.
“Oleg,” she calls, “your breakfast is getting cold.”
He raises a finger to indicate he needs another minute and turns his back on her. “Explain to me what the fuck you were thinking, stealing Katherine Morrell’s key card instead of snatching the woman herself. All it accomplished was chasing Volkov straight to his army in Russia.”
“Patience, old man,” Bes says. “All in good time.”
Facing the vista of the vineyard, Oleg says, “My patience is running out. So is your time.”
“It will happen when I’m ready. We moved too fast the first time. That’s why you failed.”
“You mean you failed,” Oleg says.
Bes laughs. “You gave the order. That failure is on your head, my friend.”
Oleg clenches his jaw. “Do you have any idea what Vladimir is capable of?”
He’s ignored two of Vladimir’s calls already, saying that he was in public places and couldn’t speak, but Vladimir expects him to call back and soon. He’ll want a report on what the fuck went wrong this time.
“I do, as a matter of fact,” Bes says, his tone dry. “If you don’t want the throats of your lovely family slit, I suggest you go back to your breakfast like your wife ordered, and let me get on with my job.”
Oleg glances around, acid pushing up into his throat as he searches the faces of the tourists. The motherfucking assassin is watching him? Oleg is the one paying Bes. He’s in charge. How dare that lowlife Russian sniper spy on him like he’s the goddamn target?
“Have I made myself clear enough for you?” Bes asks.
“I’m the one paying you,” Oleg says, fighting to keep the fear from his tone.
“Yes,” Bes drawls. “But there’s always someone willing to up the price.”
Oleg grips the rail hard. “Listen to me, you lousy—”
“I’d be careful with the insults if I were you. I’m sure Volkov will pay handsomely to know who ordered the hit on him.”
Oleg goes cold in the heat of the day. How the fuck did this happen? How did the power switch from him to the man he hired? Bes is a rat, a lowlife, a dirty son-of-a-bitch traitor. If Vladimir finds out Bes is threatening to sell them out, he—Oleg—is dead. Hiring an unreliable cleaner isn’t something Vladimir will let go unpunished.
“What do you want?” Oleg bites out.
“Evidence.”
Oleg drags the handkerchief over his face. “Evidence of what?”
“Evidence of the crime you and Vladimir Stefanov committed.”
Oleg freezes with his hand in midair. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Impossible. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bes laughs again. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Listen here, you—” Oleg swallows the insult, remembering Bes’s threat. “You know how the business works. Vladimir and I collaborated on many things.”
“I’m talking about the reason you want Volkov dead.”
Oleg tightens his fingers around the phone to prevent them from trembling. “How did you find out?”
“A man like me has his ways.”
“Tell me,” Oleg says, spittle flying from his mouth.
“It doesn’t matter. All you need to worry about is delivering the evidence of Stefanov’s culpability.”
Oleg is all but shaking in his shoes. He can’t believe his ears. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I never joke, Oleg. You should know that about me by now.”
“Do you have any fucking idea what Vladimir will do to you if he finds out? To me?”
“What do you care about what happens to me?” Bes asks. “With regards to you, Stefanov will never find out. He’ll be out of the picture before he has a chance to try.”
“You want to bring Vladimir down?” Oleg casts a glance at his family and waves at his frowning wife again. “Why?”
“Stop asking questions that don’t matter.”
It fucking matters, because if Vladimir goes down, so does he. Oleg swallows. “Who’s paying you for the information?”
“Don’t worry,” Bes says. “I’ll keep your name out of it. Give me what I want, and you can continue your wine tour with your perfect family.”
Oleg feels like he may be sick. “What about Alex Volkov?”
“You uphold your end of the bargain, and I’ll uphold mine. Deliver the information, and I’ll deliver Volkov’s head on a platter.”
The line goes dead.
Lowering the phone, Oleg stares at the screen. He’s shaking with fury. How dare that assassin threaten his family? He’ll skin him alive. The only reason he’s not retaliating right now is because he can’t let Vladimir find out that Bes knows the truth. If Oleg kills Bes, he’ll have a hard time explaining it to Vladimir. Vladimir is a highly intelligent and intuitive man. He’ll see straight through a lie. Besides, hunting down Bes might take months. No, Oleg’s best bet is to play along. He’ll deliver the evidence and let Bes bring Vladimir down. Once Vladimir is out of the way, he’ll kill Bes.