“Calm down, Yaromir,” I say before the man can tilt into panic. “I believe you.”
He sighs. “Good. Because I would never align myself with that f*****g bitch.” His tone is so severe that I know there’s a story there. It’s the first time I’ve seen him exhibit such decisive hate. Matter of fact, it’s the first time I’ve seen him exhibit decisiveness of any kind.
“Something tells me that you’ve seen Marina at her worst.”
“We were cousins,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “Growing up, she used to torture me. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that. I have the scars to prove it.”
“I’m assuming you wanted to talk to ensure that you would have my support in cornering Marina?”
Maybe I was wrong about Yaromir. There is a straightforwardness about him that I can use. He’s no don, but he’ll be a us
