Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Which is good. I take the opportunity to lurk in a far corner. Tables are set up where the dance floor would normally be and a ton of stuff is stacked in neat little rows. High-end jewelry and handbags, watches and bottles of wine, even a few paintings and sculptures, tickets to baseball and football games, stuff like that. Shit rich people would happily overpay for.
And chittering among the city’s elite are my aunt and uncle. Sona and Garen are positively beaming as they shake hands and charm their way into every conversation. Garen’s good like that, I have to admit. He’s got a disarming smile and a fantastic laugh. I can hear him from across the room roaring about something and all the men around him are beaming too. Sona’s a little tougher—no matter how hard she tries, the woman’s got a face like a pissed-off Doberman—but she can smile and kiss cheeks and write fat checks with the best of them.
“Hey, you got a job?” A balding man in a caterer’s outfit frowns at me as he’s walking past. His tray’s piled with empty plates. “Take these to the back if you’re not busy. Some fucking prick pissed all over the floor in the bathroom.”
“I was doing, uh—”
“You were staring at the rich people. Newsflash, none of the old ladies in here are going to suck your dick. Now get to fucking work.”
I like this guy. I’m grinning behind my mask as I take the tray. If he knew who I was, he’d never talk to me like that. But hell, good for him. Ballsy fuck. I’ll kill him some other time.
I carry the dirty plates to the back. The dishwashers are shouting at each other. I like the bustle and noise back here. I like the laughter and the little radio playing Spanish music in the corner. Some dish boy gives me a little smirk and asks if I got any fat tips yet, and I’d better share if I do.
“Just a gummy old lady offering to take out her dentures for a little private time,” I answer, which gets the whole place roaring.
Guess they like a little blowjob humor.
Maybe I won’t kill that asshole manager after all, since I stole his joke.
I’m starting to think this is going to work. I sneak back out of the kitchen but only make it a few feet before I spot three men I know very well. It’s the chief of the Baltimore Police Department, and he’s flanked by his top two cronies. I spin on my heel, heart racing. If they spot me—
“Hey, excuse me? Yeah, you, hold on a second.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Yes, sir?” I don’t turn around.
“We need napkins. You got some napkins?”
“Sure, boss.” I lower my voice and make it gruffer. “Hold a sec.”
I speed back into the kitchen and get the dishwasher to bring the cops their stuff. He agrees, but only if he gets a turn with my new girlfriend.
I’m fucking sweating when I step out the side door and into the back hallway near the bathrooms. The catering manager wheels a mop past, cursing silently to himself, but he doesn’t say anything to me. The hall’s empty though, and I start toward the main room again, but I stop in my tracks.
Aunt Sona’s walking toward me.
She’s staring at her phone, furiously typing to someone, and doesn’t look up until she nearly walks right into my chest. Some sharp retort’s on her tongue, but it slowly dies as I pull down my mask and smile.
“Hello, Auntie,” I say.
Her jaw drops. “Arsen? What the fuck are you doing here?” Then she staggers back. “If you try anything—”
“I’m not here to kill you, Sona. I just want to talk.”
“You snuck into my auction to talk? You could’ve reached out.”
“I tried that. You sent my messenger’s head back in a box.”
Her lips press together. Her body’s tense, and she glances over her shoulder. But she doesn’t call out or try to run. “You fucked us. You know that, right? You married some nobody Russian slut and ruined all our plans. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you killed.”
“If you kill me, Tigran will take over, and you know my brother will burn this city down to get revenge. Just listen, Sona.”
Her jaw works. But she crosses her arms. “Talk fast.”
“My wife is pregnant. That’s why I married her. I did the right thing for my family, but I know I screwed you and Uncle Garen in the process. That’s why I’m offering generous concessions. More territory, a bigger stake in the imports—”
“We can get all that by destroying you.”
“But that’ll cost you too much, and you know it, assuming you can even pull it off, which is far from guaranteed. I always thought you were the clever one.”