Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(43)

“Now go stand next to your boyfriend.”

I do as I’m told, joining Will in the center of the room. I expect him to shift away from me, but instead he slowly moves his body in front of mine. He’s protecting me—even after everything I’ve put him through.

I have to peer around his shoulder to see who it is who managed to sneak up on me. The man standing in the doorway with a gun trained on us is younger than I expected, maybe in his late twenties. His hair is pitch-black, and his eyes are even darker, but his skin is pale and creamy white, like he’s never seen daylight. His expression is neutral, but something in his eyes is menacing, cold, and heartless.

Samuel steps into view behind him, and for the briefest of moments, hope blooms. Maybe he’s here to help us.

“Uncle Samuel?” My voice is small, but I can tell it carries to the other side of the room by the way my uncle’s gaze drops to his feet. He’s not here to help.

“Uncle Samuel?” I try again in a voice even smaller and more full of questions than the first time. Logically, I realize he’s there to betray me, but I can’t seem to wrap my head around the idea. He’s blood. Blood means everything to our family.

Well, apparently not the whole family. I want to rail at him, demand to know why he double-crossed us, but what good will it do? The damage is done. Our lives are still in Petrov’s hands.

“Aw, isn’t this family reunion sweet.” The dark-haired man levels his gun at Will’s chest, and every breath I would have taken is suddenly penned inside my chest, trapped in my lungs, making them burn from the pressure. Just when my vision begins to blacken at the periphery, I remember how to work my lungs and release my pent-up breath in a rush. My lungs might be under my command again, but my heart is racing into oblivion and there’s nothing I can do to control it.

“Petrov.” Will’s voice is flat and hollow.

“This is Petrov?” My brain hitches at hearing the man’s identity. He’s barely old enough to drink. How could he be the leader of a crime syndicate stretching across most of Europe? Then I realize I’ve skipped over something really important. “Wait,” I whisper to Will, “how do you know Petrov?”

My whisper must have been louder than I realized because Petrov barks a harsh laugh. “She doesn’t know? Oh, this is rich.” His expression is all dark amusement. We’re entertaining him.

“I don’t know what?” I ask, unable to help myself.

“Please, flower, I’ll explain everything. Later. But right now, you just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Well, he is standing between the business end of a Glock and me, so there’s that.

“Isn’t this sweet. Do you two lovebirds need a few minutes to talk things out?” Petrov is patronizing us. While holding us at gunpoint. Talk about adding insult to injury.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” And Will is taunting him? They’re both insane.

And my entire world is suddenly upside down. My boyfriend—or whatever Will is—knows a whole lot more than he’s been letting on all this time, and my own uncle has betrayed me to the man who has been after my mother and me for months. He’s supposed to be with my mother. With that realization, a deeper, darker doubt creeps up on me.

“Where’s my mother?” I direct the question to my uncle, who’s still shamefacedly filling the void of space behind Petrov, but he doesn’t answer.

Petrov speaks up for him. “I have her.”

And just like that, my upside-down world collapses in on itself.

“I don’t believe that,” Will challenges. “If that were true, she’d be here, where you could keep an eye on her.” My heart surges at his words; I want so badly to believe they’re true.

But what if they’re not?

“What do you want?” It’s my best attempt at negotiating, but my words are weak. Besides, I already know what he wants. The journal my father gave me.

“See, now you’re just being intentionally obtuse,” Petrov says calmly, but his demeanor is back to menacing, all signs of amusement gone. “You know exactly what I want.”

“The book,” I reply.

Petrov nods. “Mm-hmm, and if you give it to me now, I’ll let all of you go. Including your mother.”

“Don’t believe him, Marisol. He has no reason to let us go if you give him what he wants.” Will’s tone is as earnest as I’ve ever heard it, and he used my real name.

I’m struggling between a rock and a hard place, torn between two decisions, and they both suck. I still don’t know why the journal is so important to Petrov. But I can’t risk my mother’s life or even potentially risk it just to keep the book in my possession.

“It’s downstairs, in the courtyard,” I finally tell him.

“Good, now be a good girl and untie Vasil for me.”

I try to work on Vasili’s bonds quickly, but my fingers are clumsy and Will has tied a gazillion knots in the cord. By the time I finally release the last knot, Petrov’s impatience is so strong, I feel like I could reach up and pluck it out of the air.

“Vasil, go check downstairs for the book. Niko, you guard the door—and this time, don’t let these kids get the better of you, yes?” The Suit looks suitably ashamed, gaze to the floor and shoulders slumped as Vasili marches out of the room without making eye contact with anyone. Niko follows close behind. I’ve thought of him only as The Suit all this time, and now his real name seems foreign to me. As soon as he’s gone, Petrov holds his hand out, palm up like he’s expecting me to place something in it.