Page 89 of A Love Most Fatal

“You’re being weird,” I said as he helped load the dishwasher.

“You’re weird,” he said back, like we are in the third grade.

Now, all of us splayed across different couches in the living room, Nate clicks on the TV to a photo of the only man he interviewed in the last few days.

“Maxim Orlov?” Willa asks. “I thought he was engaged.”

“They broke up,” Mary says. “How did I hear that gossip before you?”

The picture is one of the many tabloid shots of him, wearing a long winter coat looking more like a clothing model than a boss. At my side, Mary looks bored down at her fingernails, chipping off little pieces of black paint onto the carpet.

I had the idea to add his name to the list, but I never got around to actually doing it. Someone else must’ve.

“When you danced with him at the gala, did you tell him about this?” I ask.

“He’d already heard,” Mary says.

Mom puts a hand on her chest. “He is?—”

“Big,” Willa finishes. “Handsome.”

Sean nods in agreement.

“Maxim Orlov. Thirty-seven and the head of the Orlov family and, in turn, all Russian mobsters in this city,” Nate says by way of introduction.

“The whole state, really,” Leo says. “Everyone knows the Orlovs.”

The Orlov family is not one we’ve had much trouble with, especially since Maxim took his father’s place. My dad always looked at that man with distaste, though his son, he said, wasn’t half so awful. He was engaged until very recently to another Russian woman whose name I cannot remember.

Nate is quiet, practically holding up the wall the way he is leaning on it.

“Well?” Mary prompts.

“Give us the bad news,” Mom says on a sigh, and we all wait. After another moment, Nate stands up straight.

“He passed. He did great.”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room as we all wait for the imminentbut.

Nate just shrugs.

I’m still coming to terms with the fact that Maxim sat for an interview in the first place, now to hear he’s. . . passed?

“You’re kidding,” I say. I look to Leo for back up, but his face is drawn solemn.

“He was good,” Nate says. “Reasonable responses to my questions, no immediate signs of anger. Plus, he’s got three sisters.”

“Is he strong?” Willa asks. We’ve all seen the man, he’s enormous. I can’t imagine him not being completely cut beneath his suits.

“I’ve seen him fight,” Leo chimes in. “He’s a beast.”

“Me too,” Mary says, and that’s as glowing a review as she could give.

“How many people has he killed?” Mom asks.

“Eight by his own hand,” Nate says, referring to his notes. “Notably, three who messed up his littlest sister.”

I’m leaning forward now, we all are.