Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WITH NO WINDOWS
Lucian's Manhattan townhouse looked less like a home than a fortress pretending to understand architecture.
Talia counted four cameras before she crossed the entrance.
Inside, she counted three armed men.
“Do you always live like this?”
Lucian removed his coat.
“Like what?”
“Like someone is expected to invade Belgium through your foyer.”
One of the guards coughed to hide a laugh.
Lucian looked at him.
The guard immediately became fascinated by the floor.
Talia almost smiled.
Then she remembered someone had tried to murder the man standing beside her.
A silver-haired woman appeared from the hallway.
“Lucian.”
She stopped when she saw Talia.
“This is?”
“Talia Brennan.”
“The waitress?”
Talia sighed.
Apparently her reputation traveled quickly.
Lucian said, “She saved my life.”
The woman's face changed.
She approached Talia and offered her hand.
“Elena Marchetti. Lucian's mother.”
Talia shook it.
“Nice to meet you.”
Elena looked at the cut on Talia's palm.
“You're hurt.”
“It's nothing.”
“In this family, people say that immediately before bleeding on expensive furniture.”
Talia liked her instantly.
Lucian did not.
“Mother.”
“I'm getting the first-aid kit.”
When Elena disappeared, Talia glanced at Lucian.
“She seems normal.”
“Don't tell her that.”
A door opened upstairs.
A man descended.
He was younger than Lucian, perhaps thirty-one, with the same dark hair but an easier smile.
“Nico,” Lucian said.
The smile vanished.
Nico looked between them.
“I heard.”
“Did you?”
“Orlov tried to kill you.”
Lucian watched his brother carefully.
“Apparently.”
Nico approached.
“Thank God you're alive.”
He embraced Lucian.
Talia watched both men's faces.
Nico's relief looked genuine.
So did Lucian's suspicion.
When they separated, Lucian asked, “Did you change my garage route?”
Nico blinked.
“What?”
“The route was compromised.”
“I didn't change anything.”
“You had access.”
“So did five others.”
“I asked whether you changed it.”
“No.”
Silence.
Nico looked offended.
Then frightened.
“You think I helped Orlov?”
“I think someone did.”
“I'm your brother.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Talia understood then why Lucian seemed comfortable being hated.
Trust was a luxury he apparently had stopped buying.
Nico noticed her.
“And she is?”
“The reason I'm alive.”
Talia folded her arms.
“Also apparently furniture with a master's degree.”
Nico looked confused.
Lucian looked irritated.
Elena returned carrying medical supplies.
“Sit.”
Talia obeyed.
While Elena cleaned the cut, Lucian received a phone call.
His expression darkened.
“What?”
He walked toward the window.
“No. Lock everything down. Nobody leaves.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Nico asked.
“Orlov disappeared.”
“From the restaurant?”
Lucian nodded.
“One of his men was arrested. The other is dead. Orlov got out through the kitchen.”
Talia remembered the old man's smile.
“What about the agreement?”
Lucian looked at her.
“What agreement?”
“The paper he wanted you to sign.”
“I didn't sign it.”
“Good.”
Lucian's eyes sharpened.
“Why?”
Talia replayed the conversation.
Orlov had mentioned customs.
Warehouses.
Containers.
Then something else.
A phrase she had dismissed because she had been carrying plates.
She stood.
“Do you have a map of the docks?”
Everyone stared at her.
“Talia—”
“Do you?”
Lucian led her into his study.
A shipping map covered one wall.
She approached it.
“Orlov mentioned Pier Seventeen twice.”
“We don't use Pier Seventeen.”
“Exactly.”
Nico frowned.
“What are you saying?”
Talia looked at Lucian.
“He wasn't negotiating for your existing routes.”
Lucian's face tightened.
“He wanted me focused on them.”
“Yes.”
“While something moved through Seventeen.”
Talia nodded.
Nico stepped closer.
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Lucian picked up his phone.
Talia suddenly remembered another phrase.
She whispered it aloud in Russian.
Nico's head turned.
Too quickly.
Talia looked at him.
Nico looked away.
Her pulse changed.
Lucian noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Talia.”
She hesitated.
Then repeated the phrase.
Nico stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
She deliberately translated it incorrectly.
“Clear the northern warehouse.”
Nico relaxed.
Barely.
But she saw it.
Lucian saw her seeing it.
He said nothing.
Later, Elena showed Talia to a guest bedroom.
“You can sleep here.”
“I should leave tomorrow.”
Elena gave her a gentle look.
“You can decide tomorrow.”
After midnight, someone knocked.
Talia opened the door.
Lucian stood outside.
No jacket.
No tie.
He looked younger without armor.
“You lied.”
She leaned against the door.
“About?”
“The phrase.”
Talia said nothing.
“You told Nico it meant clear the northern warehouse.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn't.”
“You speak Russian?”
“Enough to know северный wasn't in the sentence.”
Talia studied him.
“Then why didn't you expose me?”
“Because I wanted to know why you lied.”
She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.
“The actual phrase was, ‘The younger wolf has already opened the gate.’”
Lucian became still.
“You think that means Nico?”
“I think your brother understood the sentence before I translated it.”
Lucian looked toward the staircase.
“Are you certain?”
“No.”
He seemed almost relieved.
“Then we don't accuse him.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
Lucian studied her.
“You really notice everything.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“I thought you noticed nothing.”
“Yes, you've established that.”
His mouth twitched.
It was the beginning of an apology neither of them knew how to finish.
Then a violent crash came from downstairs.
Lucian pulled Talia behind him.
His guards shouted.
A moment later, one appeared at the stairs carrying a package.
It had been thrown through a ground-floor window.
Lucian approached.
“Don't touch it.”
The guard nodded.
Talia saw the photograph taped to the top.
Her photograph.
Taken outside the Amaranth.
Underneath, written in Russian, were five words.
Lucian looked at her.
“What does it say?”
Talia felt the blood drain from her face.
May you like
She translated quietly.
“Next time, the waitress dies first.”
