Everything the man had done since he stepped out of the bar had been to keep me confused and intimidated. His attempt to frighten me served that goal. A scared person wasted too much on their fear, and not enough on surviving, slaying what had caused the fright in the first place.
Katie had called me a cold, calculating bitch earlier. I was my father’s daughter. It was time I showed Alexei exactly who he was fucking with. Glaring at the man, I focused on my breath, keeping it even. He wanted me scared? I’d do my best to hide it.
All too soon, my opponent recovered. The smile brightened and he looked toward the Colosseum wall across the street before pale blue eyes met mine again.
“Do you know how many people died across the street there?” he asked, continuing without an answer, “Four hundred thousand. Estimated, of course. The Romans kept good records, but time eats us all. Most of them were criminals, prisoners of war forced to fight. Imagine a petty burglar forced to fight a seasoned gladiator, a true killer. There’s no game there, no honor.”
“Honor?” I cackled loud enough for the old Ohioan a few tables away to flinch, probably overdid it. “There’s no honor in your line of work.”
“Finance can be quite cutthroat, you have me there.” His shoulders rose and fell. “But it’s not just about honor. It’s about the quality of the competitor. A chess grand master gets no pleasure from beating a rank amateur, even in four moves. Just the same as the gladiator dispatching men who’d never even held a sword in their life.”
“So, I’m your competition and you don’t want to make it easy?” I reasoned aloud, finally getting a handle on Alexei; just enough insight to follow his moves. “Then why are you speaking in riddles? If you want me to be your ‘worthy competition’ tell me about the game, whatever the hell it is you want?”
Alexei remained silent. His focus turned back to the Colosseum. A lot of people talked too much, they disregarded the power of silence. He expected it to intimidate me. Negotiations 101 material. Just being me, having my father, put me at a graduate level. He’d have to try harder than that.
“Once the game begins, I take every advantage I can get, keep my opponent off balance,” he replied, “but I can see that I’m getting diminishing returns with that, so I’ll come clean. I want you.”
“Me?” I kept my face as neutral as possible, no fear, no reaction for him to read at all. I’d already given way too much away without even realizing it.
“Yes, I want to steal you from your father.” His voice turned into a rasp at the last word.
Alexei hated my father. Knowing that offered an advantage against him, but didn’t exactly hint at who he was. A hell of a lot of people hated my father, me among them some days.
“If this is your attempt at seduction, it really needs some work,” I said. Calm; breathe in, breathe out. “You’ve done little but piss me off since you stepped out that door. Not exactly the way to woo a woman, is it?”
“My dear, you are not exactly an average woman, are you?” he countered my question. “If I showed up with a tacky chat-up line, an offer to buy you a drink and my winning smile, I might get a date, but little more. You aren’t a romantic, Gianna, you’re a realist. I’m going to get you to choose me. In doing so, I’ll steal you from your father.”
For the third time, he used ‘father’ as a curse. That, more than anything else, offered me a weapon against Alexei. His hate for my father could distract him, aid my escape.
“So what’s your offer then?” I asked, holding my hands out, palms up. “Why should I choose you? Win me over.”
“That’s a conversation for a different place.” He lifted one arm, finger extended. “You’re probably still on New York time, care for an early dinner?”
“Never let a kidnapper take you to a second location,” I replied, letting up my control enough for a smile to appear, “that’s what my father always told me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alexei’s eyes flashed at the mention. My father really was his Achilles heel.
“And I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” he said.
A black car pulled up in front of the bar. The passenger door opened and a man stepped out. Shorter than Alexei, with close cut dark hair and a bushy beard, he beat the man when it came to girth. He opened the back door and stood by it, flat face and dead eyes. Alexei had brought a thug with him, great.
Between the two of them, even if I screamed, nobody could come to my aid before they got me into the car. Alexei sat closer to the exit. If I wanted to run, it was past him first likely impossible or over the fence where his thug stood, another dead end.
The only weapons on hand were grappa glasses, Alexei’s beer bottle or my handbag. Against two men who had me by at least 100 pounds, they did nothing to even the odds, not even close.
Alexei stood and adjusted his suit coat before holding a hand out to me. I glared at it and its owner. My best hope for escape came in going with him, ironic as that sounded. I’d wait, exploit any weakness he showed to ready myself for the best moment to strike… lethally if needed.