Page 55 of Beautiful Ruins
The word settled heavily between us.I held his gaze for a moment, measuring the tone more than the statement itself.
“And what,” I bit out slowly, “do you know about him?”
“Not much is known about him, but what I do know is that he broke from his family in Russia and came to Italy to forge his own way.It looks like he has something to prove, because the man is determined to prove himself to his family.They disowned him.”
“Ahhh… one of those…”
“I don’t know what you have in mind, Cavalho, but a word of warning.I wouldn’t underestimate the man.On byl izgnan iz semyi.Exiled by the family.That’s not a man you want to mess with,” he warned.
“Have youmetme?”I deadpanned.“What about Nathan Azzopardi?”
Archie’s gaze held mine.“Word on the street is he hit them up for some product then went running for the hills.”
“How much?”
“That, I don’t know.I can make enquiries.”
I didn’t blink.
He tilted his head slightly.“There’s also something else.”
I said nothing.The air in the room sharpened.
“They’re not in the business of merely hurting people.They inflict maximum damage.And then they pay for the coffin.”He gave a faint shrug.“Just to illustrate how generous they are.”
The implication was undeniable.If they’d only roughed Izzy up… they were sending a clear message.
Silence filled the space between us.
Finally, Archie rose slowly to his feet.
“If there’s anything to be found, I’ll find it.”
“Why?”I was suddenly aware of how helpful he’d been.
“Why what?”
“Why are you so eager to help me?”
“Your sister saved my legs.I owe you more than you owe me.”
He paused at the door.
“And Raze?”His tone lost some of its amusement.“If you’re going to hit them, make sure you hit them hard.”
I met his gaze.
“I don’t do half measures.”
He gave a single nod, the kind that signaled a decision had been made long before the conversation ended, and turned for the door without another word.
It clicked shut behind him with a soft, final sound.Silence followed.Suffocating and hollow.
The room seemed to contract around me, the air growing heavier, thicker—like the walls themselves had edged an inch closer when he left.
Russians on my turf.A missing mule.And a girl upstairs with bruises that never should have been there in the first place.
The pieces didn’t sit perfectly.They pressed.Demanded.Connected in ways I didn’t like.
