LIAM
The next day, we fly to Greece, to Santorini. I’ve never been to Greece, but when we land and take a boat to the main part of the island in the early evening, it’s everything I’ve ever seen in pictures. The endless, perfect blue sea, the cotton candy clouds as the sun begins to set, the winding roads and crisp white buildings topped with rich blue domes. It looks like a paradise, and I could almost regret that we’re here on business and not on pleasure.
Maybe we’ll find Ana here. I’ll rescue her and sweep her off to one of these villas, and she can recuperate there. I’ll wait to return to Boston, and we’ll have a few blissful days alone, just the two of us, here in this romantic place.
It’s a fantasy so ridiculous I’m embarrassed just thinking it.
Ana almost certainly isn’t here. We’re here to find and meet with Adrian Drakos, and he’ll give us our next lead to chase, unless he for some reason has met the Frenchman himself, disposed of him, and can tell us what’s happened to Ana. That is a one-in-a-million chance, and I don’t dare pin any hopes on it. At best, he’ll have met or know someone who has met the Frenchman and can give us a name to go on.
That’s what Levin’s coin bought us. A name, for another name, and hopefully the end to what could very well be a wild goose chase. Or the first stop of many. We won’t know until we talk to Drakos.
It turns out that he’s not hard to find. On an island like this, a man with a security detail tends to stick out, and it’s easy enough to find out where Drakos is staying. The next step, of course, is getting to him without getting killed.
Unsurprisingly, Levin’s password is the key.
“Smert elo milost.”
Those words, spoken to the black-suited men in front of the villa, make them instantly step aside for us. I can feel their eyes resting heavily on Max and me as we follow Levin. Still, not a single threatening gesture is made in our direction as we walk up the white steps and onto the patio with billowing white curtains, lounge chairs scattered across it with a table covered in various foods and aperitifs in the center.
“Having a party, Drakos?” Levin asks dryly, and it’s then that I see our target, standing on the far end of the patio looking out towards the water, in a slim-cut black suit tailored perfectly to his lean frame.
The man who turns to face us has the features of a model, with dark hair swept to one side, green eyes, and a shadowing of stubble across his strong jaw. He moves with catlike grace, but I’m not fooled in the slightest. I’ve seen men like him training in the boxing ring, the lighter-weight fighters. They seem like easy targets, but they move faster and hit harder than any heavyweight I’ve ever trained with.
“Levin Volkov.” His voice drips with dry humor, as if he were expecting Levin. “Vladimir told me you were coming. I wondered how long it would take you to find me.”
“Not long,” Levin smirks. “You certainly stand out in a place like this.”
Adrian Drakos shrugs. “Here? I’m not trying to hide. If I were, you wouldn’t have found me until I found you—or until I let you.”
What kind of men does Vladimir make?It makes me wonder about the future of this business Viktor is setting up, what his new enterprise will mean for the Russians, and what that, in turn, means for the alliance Luca and I have made with him. I’m not sure that I’ve fully understood what I’ve allied the Kings with, and I hope that I don’t come to regret it.
Levin is a man I’d certainly be pleased to have at my side. But Vladimir makes my skin crawl, and Adrian doesn’t strike me as the kind of man that I’d like to have knowing where I sleep at night.
I’d be likely to wake up to an asp in my bed.
“I hear you traded a great deal for Vladimir to give you my name, in conjunction with what you’re looking for.” Adrian raises an eyebrow, walking past Levin towards the table, where he picks up an opaque blue glass filled with some sort of sparkling drink. “Here. Enjoy.”
“I’ll pass,” Levin says dryly, and Adrian snorts.
“What, you think I would poison an old friend? Take it. Don’t insult my hospitality. And your friends, too. Drink and eat. You’re in Greece, home of some of the finest food in the world.” He narrows his eyes at Max and me. “You haven’t introduced me, Volkov. I see you’ve lost your manners.”
Levin frowns, taking the glass from Adrian, though I notice he doesn’t drink from it. “Liam McGregor,” he says, gesturing to me. “And Maximilian Agosti . Liam is the reason that we’re here.”
“Ah.” Adrian turns his piercing gaze to me, looking at me distinctly as if he’s deciding whether or not I’m worth his time. “Do you know what Levin traded for this information for you?”
“I do,” I say stiffly, taking a glass from the table to be polite, but also not drinking from it. It doesn’t take much instinct to know that I should follow Levin’s lead here, and I see Max doing the same.
“There are men who would kill for a favor like that from Vladimir,” Adrian says casually, twirling his glass. “And Levin traded it away for almost nothing.”
“Not nothing,” Levin says stiffly. “Vladimir says that you’re familiar with a certain type of man. The type that buys and sells women. That you have a—predilection for putting an end to them, in your free time.”
Adrian shrugs. “We all need hobbies.” He glances towards me, his eyes narrowing. “What does that have to do with you?”
There’s no point in beating around the bush. “I’m searching for a woman,” I say bluntly. “A woman who was sold.”
“Ah,” Adrian says with a wry smile. “A woman. No wonder Levin traded his coin for information. You found his weakness.”
“It was inadvertent.” I return his gaze evenly. “I didn’t know when I asked him for his assistance that it would hit quite so close to home. But I’ve since learned more about him.”