Page 151 of Sweet Ruin

Ilona Vetrova was twenty-six when my father stood at the head of his Orthodox Christmas table and announced her as his new wife. My mother had cooked for forty guests that day. She had served every plate and never sat down.

Osip, her older brother, stood near my father during the toast.

He raised his glass.

He congratulated them.

Then he watched my mother return to the kitchen.

I was a boy, but I remember his face.

I remember every face at that table.

“He’s been after the waterfront for years,” Niko says. “Now, he’s asking questions about the woman who owns its final parcel.”

“He asked for photographs of me and Lilah,” I argue. “We don’t know whether he knows about the bakery.”

“Not yet.” Niko points to the white square at Forty-Fourth and Fourth. “But he knows you. He knows you have spent half your life buying this corridor. He sees you with a woman who owns its last piece, and he will identify the bakery.”

I think of Vivian in the bedroom doorway.

There was a guy. A man came to him about it. With an offer.

Connor has something Osip wants. Osip has money Connor needs. Neither man possesses the discipline to ignore an opportunity that hurts me.

Anton starts laying down photographs across the map. “These are what we pulled off the camera, sir.”

I recognize the first image, because I was drinking it in live through my own eyes: Lilah descending the brass staircase in the wine-colored dress while every man in the lobby drooled over her.

The second catches her talking to Ekaterina and Anna.

The third shows her beside Niko.

The fourth shows Alisa Vetrova entering the ballroom.

I remember the reaction. Men turned. Women winced. Half the guests moved toward her without even realizing what they were doing.

I couldn’t have cared less about Alisa.

I was too wrapped up in Lilah.

But then come the money shots.

Anton places the fifth photograph beside the fourth. The photographer captured Lilah looking miserable outside the coat room.

In the sixth, I have Lilah against me with my mouth on hers.

She doesn’t look quite so miserable in that one.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” I muse out loud. “Alisa arrives. Every guest looks toward the doors. Our man moves into the lobby without anyone noticing and gets ready for whatever comes next.”

Niko nods. “Convenient.”

“Too convenient.”

“You think she knew?” Anton asks.

“I think Alisa knows what happens when she enters a room. Osip knows, too.” I study the image of her in the doorway. “He may have used her as a distraction without telling her.”