Chapter 2 - SEVEN LANGUAGES
Lucian Marchetti stared at her.
Talia set the wine bottle down.
Not quickly.
Quick movements were dangerous around men whose jackets hung slightly heavier on one side.
Orlov's smile remained in place.
“What did you say?”
Lucian sounded more offended than curious.
Talia looked at the man who had spent the last five minutes treating her like something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
“I said you're wrong.”
One of Lucian's bodyguards shifted.
Orlov chuckled.
Lucian leaned back.
“About what?”
“About me.”
She should have stopped there.
Instead, she looked directly at Vasily Orlov and spoke in the same rough Petersburg dialect he had used thirty seconds earlier.
“Especially about what I understand.”
The room died.
Orlov's apple knife stopped.
The bodyguard beside him moved first.
Talia saw his shoulder tighten.
“Down!”
Lucian reacted instantly.
Talia grabbed the edge of the tablecloth and ripped it toward herself.
Crystal shattered.
Plates crashed.
Orlov's bodyguard reached beneath his jacket, but Lucian overturned the table between them.
His own men drew weapons.
Talia dropped behind a chair.
A gunshot cracked through the private room.
Then another.
The chandelier trembled.
Someone shouted.
Talia crawled toward the service door as broken glass cut through her stockings.
A hand closed around her ankle.
She screamed and kicked backward.
Orlov's second man had fallen beside the table. Blood darkened his sleeve, but his free hand gripped her leg.
“Little spy.”
Talia kicked again.
Then Lucian appeared above him.
He struck the man's wrist against the floor until the weapon fell loose.
“Let her go.”
There was no mockery in his voice now.
Only ice.
The man released her.
Lucian hauled Talia upright.
“Move.”
They ran through the service door.
Behind them, Lucian's men held the private room while alarms began screaming through the restaurant.
Kitchen workers scattered.
Desmond stood frozen beside a tray of tiramisu.
Lucian grabbed him by the jacket.
“Back exit.”
Desmond pointed.
Lucian dragged Talia through the kitchen.
“I'm perfectly capable of running by myself.”
“Then run faster.”
They burst into an alley.
A black SUV was already moving toward them.
Lucian shoved Talia behind a concrete column.
The passenger window lowered.
She saw metal.
“Lucian!”
He turned.
She grabbed his lapel and pulled.
Gunfire chewed into the brick where his head had been.
His bodyguard fired back.
The SUV accelerated away.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Lucian looked down.
Talia still had both fists twisted in his expensive jacket.
She released him.
“You can thank the empty-headed waitress whenever you're ready.”
His expression changed.
It was almost imperceptible.
Shame.
Then it disappeared.
“Car.”
A second vehicle arrived.
Talia stepped backward.
“No.”
Lucian stared at her.
“No?”
“I saved your life. That does not mean I'm getting into a car with you.”
“You understood Orlov.”
“Yes.”
“You spoke his dialect.”
“Yes.”
“He knows you understood him.”
Talia's anger weakened.
Lucian nodded toward the restaurant.
“You think you're going home?”
Her stomach tightened.
“My apartment—”
“Isn't safe.”
“You don't know where I live.”
“Orlov can know before you reach it.”
Talia looked toward the street.
Sirens were approaching.
Lucian lowered his voice.
“Get in the car.”
“No.”
“Talia.”
She froze.
She had never told him her name.
Lucian glanced toward the restaurant.
“Your manager shouted it earlier.”
“Oh.”
For the first time that night, Lucian almost smiled.
It vanished quickly.
“I'm not kidnapping you.”
“That's reassuring because kidnapping would really ruin your customer-service recovery.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You always talk this much?”
“Only when someone calls me stupid before I save his life.”
A bodyguard opened the SUV door.
Talia hesitated.
Then she climbed inside.
Lucian entered after her.
The vehicle accelerated.
For three blocks neither spoke.
Finally Lucian asked, “What exactly did Orlov say?”
Talia translated every word.
Lucian listened without interruption.
When she finished, he looked through the tinted window.
“He intended to take the docks.”
“And everything else.”
“How do you know Russian?”
“University.”
“That dialect isn't taught at university.”
“Mine was.”
He looked at her.
Talia sighed.
“I wrote my graduate thesis on regional Russian dialects and criminal argot.”
That got his attention.
“You're a linguist?”
“Applied linguistics.”
“How many languages?”
“Seven well enough to embarrass myself professionally. Four more badly enough to start international incidents.”
Lucian stared at her.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Complicated enough for you?”
His jaw tightened.
“I was wrong.”
She waited.
“That sounded painful.”
“It was.”
“Try again.”
He looked directly at her.
“I was cruel to you.”
That surprised her.
“And?”
“And arrogant.”
“Keep going.”
“Don't push it.”
“There he is.”
The SUV turned onto Park Avenue.
Talia looked down and noticed blood on her palm.
Lucian noticed too.
He took a folded handkerchief from his pocket.
“Glass?”
“Probably.”
He reached for her hand.
Talia pulled it away.
“I can do it.”
Lucian handed her the cloth.
His voice softened.
“Why did you warn me?”
She wrapped her palm.
“I don't know.”
“That's not an answer.”
“You humiliated me.”
“I know.”
“You threatened my wages.”
“I know.”
“I have sixty-three dollars in checking until Friday.”
Lucian's expression changed.
“And I still couldn't stand there and watch somebody murder you.”
He studied her.
“Why?”
Talia looked through the window.
“Because what you deserved and what I was willing to become are two different things.”
Lucian said nothing.
The SUV suddenly slowed.
His bodyguard in the front seat touched his earpiece.
Then his face hardened.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
Lucian straightened.
“Orlov?”
“No.”
The bodyguard turned.
“Someone inside our organization changed tonight's garage route.”
Lucian's face became completely still.
“Who knew it?”
“Six people.”
“And?”
The bodyguard swallowed.
“One of them was your brother.”
May you like
Talia looked at Lucian.
For the first time since she had met him, the most feared man in the city looked genuinely surprised.
