Russian Bastard | A Mafia Novel ✧

Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

Tatiana

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was a pretty romantic date," Tatiana said nonchalantly, swirling her glass of Chardonnay before taking a sip.

She had arrived at Hazel's Place on time—a minute early, even. Zeke had already been there and he had requested a table for them by the back, where it offered some privacy with far spaced tables and a view of city lights outside through the glass windows.

She had sent Jared away when they arrived, telling him to park the car and gave him some money to keep himself entertained, thinking that her dinner with Zeke might take a while.

"If this were a date, I would've taken you somewhere else," Zeke said, swirling his own glass of Merlot. "Somewhere that offered a little more... privacy." He looked up over his glass.

The air was suddenly charged, tension rolling off the two before Tatiana cleared her throat. She was still angry with him—furious, really—but she had to keep working with him and didn't have a choice. She'd already decided to forget about what happened between them and only treat each other with utmost professionalism.

"What have you found out? Did Charlie find any new leads?" she asked instead, ignoring his earlier comment. They had finished their meal a few minutes ago and now it was time to get down to business.

"Yes, but it's odd," he said, making her brows furrow. "Charlie says that our security wasn't even hacked at all. Somehow, the security feed was put on loop with no resistance. Someone from the inside did it."

They stayed silent for a moment, contemplating the gravity of the situation. If someone on the inside had voluntarily tampered with the Vasiliev's security, they had a traitor in their midst.

"We have a team working on the case right now, Ivanov was put in charge so hopefully we will see results soon. But, that's not why I called you here." He drew a folder from the inside of his coat that hung off the back of his chair. "My father proposed that we hide you away in France." He slid the folder towards her on the table.

"France?" She picked up the folder and opened it. It contained airline tickets, an itinerary, and pictures of a vacation home.

"My mother, Dahlia Boucher, lives in France," he said as she continued to rifle through the file. "Upon landing in France, we will travel by car and stay in one of her vacation homes in Saint-Tropez."

"Your mother is Dahlia Boucher? The actress?" she asked in slight disbelief.

He only nodded. "No wonder you're so handsome," she murmured to herself. "You inherited all her looks, you're basically a guy version of her."

"Sorry?" He looked at her in amusement, clearly having heard her conversation with herself. "I didn't quite catch that."

She rolled her eyes at him. "When will we leave?" she asked, dodging his question.

He was clearly enjoying himself, having heard her say that he was handsome but chose to let it slide. "Next week. We'll take two guards with us during the trip but we're sending the rest in advance, to set up the house and check the grounds. We very well can't have a whole entourage with us, we'd look ridiculous surrounded by a bunch of suits, it would make our cover meaningless." He leaned back. "My uncle will deal with the airlines and make sure we have smooth passage." She knew that they weren't taking a private plane to wherever they were supposed to be going. They couldn't, it was too risky if they were to land in a private hanger. If they weren't careful, there was a strong possibility of them being ambushed.