Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2) - Page 19

“Okay.”

“Someone killed the agent a day later.” Giorgio went to the next photo. “So we gave this agent the prints.”

“And he was killed?”

“And so on. It’s been four dead FBI agents.” Giorgio flipped to the final photo. “And now the fingerprint sample is gone, and the limo driver that was on our side, the one who lifted the prints, he’d also dead.”

“And now Russians are outside of my building and the Lion is on vacation in Paris?” I took another swig of my whiskey and let the liquid burn my throat. “He doesn’t want us to figure out who she is. That’s interesting. There wasn’t that much mystery when he was fucking the ballerina. What’s different with this one?”

“We’ve got a name for the black man with Misha.”

“Please say it’s mouse.”

“No. His name is Maxwell. A small-time hustler from Harlem. Nowhere on Misha’s level.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And Maxwell is from New York?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck is going on?”

Giorgio crossed his arms. “Usually, I stand by and let Rafael and you lead the race, but this time, I’m presenting my thoughts on this matter.”

“Go ahead.”

“Kazimir is killing international agents to protect this woman’s identity. I would leave it alone.”

“I don’t know, if I can. On one side, I have no intentions of bothering the Lion. On the other side, I have to protect us.” I finished my glass. “Any word from Rafael?”

“No.”

“So, we have Kazimir killing people over fingerprints, as he spends time with a mystery black woman in Paris.” I leaned on the edge of my desk, half-sitting, half standing, but utterly confused and already feeling tipsy. “And in St. Petersburg, we have Misha, buying clothes for some small-time hustler from New York named Maxwell. Yet, he’s looking for Celina.”

“Do you want more on the Maxwell guy?”

“No but follow Misha. If he’s looking for Celina, then I want to know why, and I would like to grab Celina first.”

So you’re running, Aunt Celina? That makes more sense. You’re busy.

“And if we find Celina, before him?” Giorgio asked. “What do we do with her?”

“Ask Celina who the hell killed Eden’s roommate, and why. She’s directly related to those hits, unless Kazimir is going after me. Either way, the Bratva is pissed. I’m just wondering with who, Celina or me?” I gave him a weak smile and set the glass down. “We need answers, not more questions.”

Nodding, Giorgio left.

I didn’t know how I would update Eden tonight. I’d already told her enough. She was now trying to be a part of everything and help out. That was the last thing I wanted her to do. With her roommate being killed, she needed to be far away from this as possible.

She’s not going to take this well.

Since confessing to Eden, I’d promised to keep a lot of my world and the danger away from her. However, I’d also said I would update her on Celina and Shalimar.

Not this time. This would scare her. It’s scaring me.

I wouldn’t go to Eden with this, until I had answers to what was going on and even more, a clear solution to fix this.

Twenty minutes later, a knock came at my door.

I’d still been leaning on the desk, contemplating what I would have to do next. “Come in.”

I hope Giorgio has some answers.

This time it wasn’t Giorgio.

Eden stepped inside. She wore a white robe that fell to her ankles. Black six-inch heels covered her feet. In her hand, she held Eros.

Hmmm. What surprise do you have for me, queen?

Once Eros had been my violin. I’d named it Belladonna. But the moment I first spotted Eden, my lovely woman held my full interest. No longer did I care about the instrument unless her fingers caressed it.

The door closed behind Eden.

A lock click came next.

I returned my view to the robe. My fingers itched to take it off.

“Are you busy?” She set the violin down on the mahogany table next to the door.

I drank her stunning image in. “I’m never busy for you, reine.”

“Good. This won’t take long.” With confidence, she took her sweet time opening the robe. Underneath, sheer red lace hugged her full breasts.

Fuck.

The dark circles of her areolas peeked out beneath the thin fabric.

Yes. This is what I need.

Some sort of thong barely hid the sweet folds of her pussy. It didn’t matter. I would tear it away soon. But with the thong being so tiny in the front, I knew a back view of Eden would reveal lush ass, ready to be grabbed.

Her gaze remained on me as she pulled the robe off her shoulders. It fell to the floor.

“I hope you’re wrong, reine.”

She widened her eyes. “You hope I’m wrong about what?”

“You said that this won’t take long.” I rose from the desk. “I would like to take all the time that you need.”

“Stay there, Jean-Pierre.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Butcher and Violinist Billionaire Romance
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