She hisses in distaste, but both of them turn and slip out of the door. The moment it shuts behind them, I gesture for the man to come forward. I’m still holding out hope that this cheap lowlife has something I can use, but considering the look and smell of him, I doubt that.
One thing’s certain—this man is not Bratva.
“We’re alone now, ‘friend,’” I say. “So tell me: why are you here?”
He gulps, the sound of it audible and repulsive in the quiet of my study. “I got information for you. Heard there’s a girl you’re looking for.”
Blood thunders in my ears. But I keep my composure and lean back in my chair in a show of detachment.
He nods. “I know where she is. Kinda.”
“‘Kinda’?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“Well, yeah, she might’ve been moved. I can’t say fer sure.”
His mouth opens an
