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pamphlets, and posters copied the scandalous truths of those in power, and it had gone, for lack of a better term, viral.
    If I truly ran this store as a business, I’d be gobsmacked right now.
    “ Viva la revolucion, ” Viktor says with a smirk, and so begins information dissemination. “It’s a fairly recent regime change, though the family is an old one. Hence…” He pats the book.
    Before Snowden revealed what he knew and the entire world became aware of the far reach of the NSA, the Bratva embraced technology, the easy flow of encrypted information from continent to continent. Now, many—including me—have returned to the old ways, with the occasional use of technology to help.
    “Ah, yes. How long have they reigned?” How much time do I have?
    “Not long—two months.” A month to study my prey and formulate a plan. Then a month to execute and get paid. Standard.
    “What are they known for?” What’s the crime?
    “Parties, community service, and lavish spending.” Prostitution, intimidation, and bankrupting their citizens.
    “Sounds rather common, don’t you think?” Method of execution?
    “Not at all. However, I read that the prince avoids feather pillows. Fear of birds or something like that.” Smothering… A very personal vendetta the financier has against this prince, then.
    “Hopefully, someone will help him conquer it. In the meantime, I’m more than happy to purchase this book from you—for a fair price.” I accept.
    We go through the motions of haggling and settle on a price.
    “You drive a hard bargain, Roman.” Viktor nods. “You know, it’s not good for a man to be alone. As your friend, I feel it’s my duty to give you some advice.”
    Warning sirens blare in my head. “And that would be?”
    “Go out with Ms. Andrews.” He waves a hand in the air. “Be a young man in springtime.”
    “It’s autumn,” I say flatly.
    “Whatever the season, no one is guaranteed anything but death.”
    My death or hers? “I appreciate your advice, but—”
    “No buts.”
    I clench my jaw, my fists, and hold my entire body perfectly still, even as I want to smash in his face. He’s threatening Everly, but for what reason? I’ve assured him she knows less than nothing and I’ve agreed to the deal. “The attention might be unwanted.”
    “The attention will be welcomed. People will wonder if they never see you out and about.”
    Message: My cloistered life is not acceptable anymore to the Bratva and Viktor is delivering the news himself. For that, I am thankful, but at the same time I am furious with my family.
    They want me to blend in, while all I want to do is disappear once I pay my debt to my grandfather for not executing my mother when she showed up, unannounced, with me in tow. For giving me a life and attention when all that my father showed me was death and indifference. Not that my grandfather is innocent—far from it.
    But he’s not a megalomaniac like my father. And he believes family comes first. Always.
    I force my jaw to relax and bare my teeth at him in a parody of a smile. “I’ll ask her to dinner Friday night, before class.”
    “Very good, Nikolai. Very good.” With another tap on the cover of The Secret Lives of Kings , he leaves my shop, whistling.
    I pick up my phone and dial the number I’ve memorized, but never used.
    “Hello?”
    “Everly? This is Roman.”
    Silence and then, “Did I leave something behind?”
    “No.”
    “Did you forget that I didn’t order anything this week?”
    “No.” Yes, this is a perfectly normal conversation to have with the woman you want to spend more time with. Perfectly, bloody normal.
    “Then I’m not sure… Do I owe you money?” she asks, and I want to bang my head against the nearest wall.
    “No,” I bark into the phone, and then take a deep breath. “I would like to invite you to have dinner with me Friday night before our class.”
    “Oh,” she breathes.
    Is this a good oh or a