“No.” I finish my drink. “And she won’t. Not until I’m sure she can be trusted.”
“And when will that be?”
I think of the thud outside my office door. The lingering scent of her cheap perfume. The report that she went straight home, told no one what she heard, did not pass Go, did not collect two hundred dollars. All positive signs, and yet…
“That remains to be seen.”
Arkady leans forward, suddenly serious. “Just remember—civilian attachments are liabilities in our world. If she becomes a problem…”
He doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t need to.
We both know what happens to problems in the Bratva.
“She won’t be,” I say with more certainty than I feel. “She’s smart. Desperate. And she wants something only I can give her.”
“A good f*****g?” Arkady suggests with his usual dose of gr
