Page 19 of The Brigadier
“Let me offer you a real piece of advice. Lose the watch. Make a hiding place. You’re asking to be mugged on the subway or walking to your sleazy apartment.”
She had a point, but I almost choked at her calling it sleazy. Although it was. It was a good thing my father hadn’t insisted on seeing it or I’d be on a damn plane back home with them.
“Good point. I’ll do that.”
“I don’t think I need to tell you to keep a low profile,” Sonya said, her face more somber.
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged and I was ready to pop her. “Just that it’s good you’re using Auntie’s maiden name.”
“Why?”
“Because your father isn’t well liked in New York. I don’t know whose feathers he ruffled but the chatter I’ve heard the last couple of months isn’t good.”
“Any specifics?” I pushed.
“Nothing really other than certain people are aware he has a strong connection to the Bratva here. And they aren’t liked either.”
I knew my cousin ran with some fairly seedy people, but really? “And how do you know this?”
“I run with certain clubs, girl. You know that. Party hardy. Just be careful. You don’t need any further complications than that pig of a boss you have.”
I shook my head. My father was both respected and feared, something I’d always known. What she was telling me shouldn’t be real news, but I had a sense she knew more than she wanted to tell me. We weren’t that close and her life was far removed from mine, but her words still surprised me. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Yeah, I thought you should know. Now, what about this party you went to? Any cute men?” She was grinning seductively.
Vivid, very provocative images floated into the front of my mind. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted Nikolay. It was ridiculous.
Some would call it disgusting.
“Maybe. But it’s not something I can do anything about.”
Now she wagged her finger. “Never say never, girlie.”
From her mouth to God’s ears.
Three locks. Three.
Yes, my father’s house had been extremely secure, complete with soldiers walking the expansive perimeter, but this felt more… prison like. Just walking up the stairs, hearing nasty arguments on one side then the other was enough to give me a headache.
I lived on the third floor, right in the front, which I preferred. There was a fire escape near my bedroom window, which provided all kinds of terrifying thoughts on the thrillers I’d seen for years. However, it was a quick escape if necessary. Right?
I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the last of the aging locks, sliding inside after glancing over my shoulder. Once inside, the locks were reengaged.
Exhaling, I quickly moved into my bedroom to change clothes. About the only good thing I could say about the rest of the day was that Mr. Davenport had gone to several afternoon meetings. Several of the girls had warned me to lay low. They’d also told me the man not only had a powerful family but friends as well.
As if that would scare me.
Thankfully, none of them had picked up who I was given the last name I was using. I had to be thankful for something.
Once in jeans and a sexy little sweater I adored, I headed for my already open bottle of wine and my favorite snack: Nacho Doritos. I deserved junk food after the day I’d experienced. I sat down on the olive-green couch, turning on the ancient television. The reception waned, but all I needed was noise.
After putting my feet up on the scratched coffee table, I took a gulp of wine, toasting myself for getting through the day. However, for all the bravado I’d shown, the testy conversations with my father where I’d insisted on living my life my way, I had to admit this wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for. A moment of melancholy slipped in and I tried to ignore it.
I reminded myself of that maybe ten times, although each time it seemed to fail more. As I sighed, a series of loud horns outside was followed by a horrific sounding crash. I wasn’t unlike every other voyeur in the world, gravitating toward the two big windows overlooking the street. While I couldn’t see anything, I remained where I was, scanning the street. It was already dark, the two streetlights providing limited light. Various hole in the wall restaurants and businesses dotted the other side of the street, the scent of Indian food making my stomach rumble. Sadly, there wouldn’t be any dinners out, as cheap as some of the food could be in the city. It was impossible not to feel a series of emotions, including hope.
Life had a way of working itself out.