Page 25 of The Pakhan's Dangerous Secret
Matvey crosses the room in three long strides and leans over to examine the paper. His expression doesn't change, but I see his eyes narrow slightly as he reads the single word.
"Found it in a brooch," I explain. "In a hidden compartment. Mariya didn't even know it was there."
"Believe her?"
"Yeah. She was as surprised as I was." I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. "But I don't know what it means.Bayou. Could be a location, could be a code. Could be nothing."
Matvey picks up the paper, holding it up to the light. He studies it for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then something shifts in his expression.
"Old field," he says.
I sit up straighter. "What?"
"There used to be a meeting place on the outskirts of the city, remember?" He sets the paper down, his finger tapping against the word.
I search my memory, trying to recall anything about an old field on the outskirts of town. Vague images surface. Stories I heard when I was younger, about how the Bratva used to meet in secret locations before they had the power and influence to operate more openly.
"There's still a shack there," Matvey continues. "Or it used to be there. It's been abandoned for years, though."
"And you think 'bayou' refers to that?" I ask, skeptical.
He shrugs. "Old-timers called it that.The field. Always wet and muddy, like a swamp. They joked that it was their own bayou."
The pieces start to click together in my mind. If Pushkin knew about that old meeting place, if he'd heard the same stories and jokes, he might have used it as a hiding spot. It's remote, abandoned, and most people have forgotten it even exists.
It's exactly the kind of place someone would hide something they didn't want found.
"We need to check it out," I say, already standing.
Matvey nods. "Tonight?"
"No. Let’s wait until tomorrow, when it’s light and we can see better." My mind races ahead to what we might find. The heirlooms? Documents? Something else entirely?
A sudden impulse hits me and I hope I don’t regret it later.
"We’ll bring Mariya," I say.
13
MARIYA
The sound of the door opening jolts me awake. I sit up fast, my heart already racing, my body tensing for whatever's coming next. The morning light streams through the barred windows, and I have to blink several times before my eyes adjust enough to see who's standing in the doorway.
Andrey.
He's wearing jeans and a dark T-shirt that stretches across his chest, and there's a smile on his face. An actual smile, wide and genuine, like he's excited about something. It's so unexpected that I just stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
"Get dressed," he says, his blue eyes bright with something I can't quite identify. "We're going on a treasure hunt."
I blink at him. "A what?"
"You heard me." He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes his biceps flex, and I force myself to look away. "Get ready. We leave in ten minutes."
Before I can ask any questions, he's gone, the door closing behind him with that familiar click as the lock engages. I sit there for a moment, my mind racing through possibilities.A treasure hunt? What the hell does that mean? Is this some kind of trick? Some new way to torture information out of me?
But I don't have time to overthink it. If he says ten minutes, he means ten minutes. I scramble out of bed and grab the clothes he brought me yesterday, jeans, a T-shirt, and the sneakers. I dress quickly, running my fingers through my tangled hair and wishing I had time for a shower.
When I'm ready, I stand by the door and wait. My stomach is in knots, anxiety making my hands shake. Where are we going? What does he want from me now?
