She glowers right back at me, squaring off to fold her arms over her chest. “Finish the conversation, Kazimir.”
Fuck. She’s calling me by my real name.
The only time she ever calls me by my real name is if I’m in trouble with her.
Seething, I put the phone back to my ear. “What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me where I can find him.”
“No idea.”
“You’re a bloody liar.”
“Yes. But not about this.”
A blistering Gaelic oath comes over the line. It makes me happy.
Hiding my smile because Nat is watching me, I say, “Perhaps if you hadn’t gone on that killing spree and murdered his brother, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Just a thought.”
“I didn’t know he was his brother! They lived in different countries! And do you know how many of you bloody Russians have the same last name?”
“Some free advice? Next time you want to kill someone in the Bratva, don’t.”
He roars a filthy string of curses so long and scathing, I have to hold the phone away from my ear so I don’t go deaf.
When silence finally falls, I put the phone back to my ear. “Let me be clear. I don’t know where he is. I don’t have any control over him. I didn’t give him permission to touch Sloane’s sister.”
A brief silence follows. “But you knew he was here. You spoke to him. I can tell by your voice.”
So maybe this asshole is smarter than I give him credit for.
Maybe.
“I had nothing to do with this kidnapping. I give you my word on that.”
He scoffs. “Your bloody word.”
I lower my voice. “Yes. The same way I give you my word I haven’t told any of your Irish Mob friends or the other families who and what you really are. Or who you’re working with. Because if I had, we both know what would’ve already happened.”
In his pause, I sense the wheels turning a million miles per hour inside his head. But he remains silent.
“Thank you for not insulting my intelligence with a denial.”
“You’re welcome. And I’ll thank you not to insult my intelligence with a denial, too.”
“Like it or not, I’m telling you the truth.”
“I’m not talking about Malek now.”
Christ, he’s exasperating. He talks in fucking circles. “Then what the hell are you talking about?”
“Your involvement with Maxim Mogdonovich’s death.”
He says it with such utter conviction, I know he’s got intel that he shouldn’t have. He’s not guessing.
He knows.
Fuck.
When I don’t speak for a moment, purely from surprise, Declan says, “You remember Max, aye? Your old boss? Died in a prison riot, conveniently elevating your ruthless arse to the number one spot? Funny how that happened. I wonder what your Bratva boys would have to say if they found out you arranged the whole thing?”
“You’re an ignorant slug.”
“And you’re a can of piss. My point is that we both know things about the other that we shouldn’t. Let’s focus on the important issue here. Tell me where I can find this bastard Malek. Where does he live? How does he travel?”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know.”
“You do realize you still owe me for getting your FBI file erased?”
“Incorrect. I let Sloane stay with us while you were out taking care of your business. Your dangerous business, that’s now blowing back in your face. I didn’t have to do that.”
His voice rises. “Listen to me, you—”
“I gave your woman shelter. My debt is paid. The end.”
There follows a silence so long, I think he might have hung up. Then he says, “If you help me, I’ll grant you a favor. One favor. Anything you ask. No conditions.”
“Okay. Shoot yourself in the head.”
“Anything other than that, you bloody great wanker.”
When I don’t reply, he prompts, “You know what I’m offering is valuable. All you have to do is give me something to go on. Give me somewhere to look. Give me fucking anything that will help us find her, and I’ll owe you a marker. No questions asked.”
I consider it.
A dozen different extremely useful things I could ask him for run through my head. Though I hate to admit it, Declan O’Donnell is a powerful man.
You never know when having a man like that in your debt will come in handy.
And I did specifically tell Malek not to hurt any women while he was getting his revenge. I was very clear on that. Now, a girl has been shot in the process of a kidnapping that wasn’t supposed to happen.