Page 61 of The Mastermind
‘I believe he thinks he’s special.’ I made eye contact with the stripper who’d opened the door and subtly jerked my head towards the exit.
Her serene smile didn’t slip as she murmured softly in Mandarin. One by one the ladies stood and calmly vacated the room with zero fuss.
Rafa stared after them with a grin before redirecting his gaze to Stan, who had paled and turned into a statue in his chair. ‘You really ticked every item on the menu, didn’t you? Still experimenting with finding your type, huh? I respect that.’
‘What the fuck is this?’ Stan finally unfroze to screech, his dilated gaze bouncing between us before settling on me. ‘Look, man, you won fair and square today. I have no beef with that, okay?’
I tilted my head. ‘You sure about that? Only I’m not sure you value the true meaning of fair and square. But I appreciate that that may not be up to you. That you’re simply caught up in “sins of the father” bullshit. But I’ll need some insight into the working of it, just to be sure.’
He gulped audibly when he saw Fist plant himself in front of the closed doors, his thick arms crossed in front of him. ‘What… what are you talking about? Sins of what father?’
‘Yours, Stan. Keep up.’
His confusion deepened. ‘W-what do you mean? My father is back home in… in Chicago. He’s an investment banker. He’s a good guy… There is no sin.’
‘Are you sure about that,Stanislav? Because I’m sure your American just took a little detour there. What do you think,frate?’
Rafa nodded. ‘Yup, he’s definitely giving shades of deep winters and ushankas. St Petersburg, maybe?’
Stan had been simply nervous before, but now naked fear swam in his eyes. He wasn’t too far gone on the booze and coke, and as I prowled closer I felt the waves of terror rising off him. His fists bunched and un-bunched on his thighs.
I thought about taking a seat and changed my mind. High-end club or not, far too many bodies dripping with heaven knew what had used that sofa. I wasn’t in the mood to catch something.
Not so soon after discovering the delights of Maddelena’s enchanted pussy.
‘Interesting that you’re not rushing to deny your name is Stanislav, hmm?’
His shoulders curled and it was almost pathetic how easily he folded. I was highly annoyed, but not enough to take out my wrath on a helpless manchild who hadn’t had the brains to bring enough security to make it worth my while.
‘You are Stanislav Palinski, correct?’ I pressed.
He chewed his top lip for several seconds, his eyes darting between his fallen bodyguards, before he gave up any hope of escaping this, and nodded.
Rafa glanced at me, and a pulse of relief passed between us. Finally, a real-life confirmation that wasn’t dependent on a mysterious hacker.
‘And your real father is…?’
He shook his head, ashen and utterly distraught. ‘I cannot… He will… No. You have to… t-to do what you want to me. I cannot…’
I propped one loafer on the cushion next to him and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Shhh, it’s okay, we don’t need to talk about your papa right now. What about Liv Ivanovski?’
Misery crept across his face, sinking in. Then his chin dipped to his chest. ‘What about him?’ he whispered.
Rafa glanced at me and smirked before stepping closer to the boy. ‘He facilitated your race seat and orchestrated our recent… misfortunes. Yes or no?’
‘Da– yeah.’ The word floated on a shuddering exhale.
I patted him again. ‘Good. You know what would really help? The names of everyone Ivanovski co-opted into his little scheme.’
Fear-soaked eyes lifted to me, and I saw remnants of white powder ringing his left nostril. Fucking hell. Maybe I would do a little snitching of my own, let it drop to the authorities about Little Stan’s habit. Sliding behind the wheel of a 1,000-horsepower racing car with top speeds of over three hundred miles an hour while coked-up was like screaming ‘fuck you’ at the Grim Reaper. Even worse was taking others into the afterlife with you. ‘What are you going to do to me?’
‘You? Nothing. My issue isn’t with you. As long as you stay in your lane, literally, and lay off the coke, you get to finish your season unscathed. Names,’ I repeated.
He spat the names out like pips from a diseased fruit. Rage billowed in my belly. Two were mid-level people on my crew I trusted. Another two were officials I would be paying a visit to in the next week. The Mancinelli traitors who implemented the ill-gotten info would also be appropriately dealt with.
That might be where things got hairy, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
I straightened up and looked down at the terrified driver. I shouldn’t really have thrown him a bone but… ‘My advice to you? Lay low for a while. The next couple of weeks are going to be a little… chaotic.’
