7

The clock hand barely crawled to seven o'clock, and I was already assembled and, as they say, fully armed.

Grisha, as always, slipped in quietly, notifying me of his arrival with the smell of silver, cigarettes and something sharp, like motor oil.

- Did you patch up your iron horse? I asked, pinning up my loose hair on the side so that it didn't get too much in my face.

- Even as patched up! the wolfhound purred, leaving a juicy bite on my shoulder.

- Are you going to bathe? - I turned to him.

- But you must? - Grisha clarified playfully, although his eyes remained serious.

He studied my scent, intuitively feeling that something in me had changed, but did not ask, as if he knew that I would not answer.

“We should,” I replied, and ran my freshly manicured fingernail over his dirty T-shirt.

"Good," Grisha answered quietly and licked my bottom lip with his lips.

He also did not say anything about the fact that I put on a tight-fitting black dress with thin straps, which I had not done for a long time because of the body shapes that had changed after the birth.

"Then go take a shower," I briefly kissed back and knocked off a strand of his hair, "and go downstairs." I think that before the arrival of the guests we will have time to have breakfast.

- I listen and obey, Kira Valeryevna, - Grisha answered and, defiantly crushing my chest, went into the shower.

I wiped off the dirty smear he had deliberately left on my chest and went downstairs. Martha was already setting the breakfast table for four, deftly dodging Gray's harassment.

- Where is Misha? I asked, giving him a light slap on the back of the head.

- A tie, probably, chooses, - Gray grinned, cheerfully rubbing the back of his head and giving me a place at the head of the table.

Marta served me coffee and an omelet with tomatoes.

- Good morning!

A minute later Misha came down and sat down at the table to my right. By the way, he was not wearing a tie, like a jacket, and a deep blue shirt well emphasized the color of his eyes, slightly lightened by the morning sun.

“Good,” I replied, taking a sip of coffee.

- How are you feeling? he asked, looking at me. “I didn’t hear you sleep at night,” he added, not noticing Grisha, who had joined us with a razor cut on his left cheek.

He gave the wolf a mocking look, as if hinting at what he could hear at night when Grisha and I were in bed.

I did not pay attention to this and told about my version of who organized the raid on Misha's father, and also that I had already met with Kokhan.

Grisha, as expected, did not like the last one, and while Misha was thinking over my words, Grisha brought a folder from the office and, together with Sery, examined its contents.

- Are you sure it's him? Grisha finally asked.

"I'm sure," I replied, finishing my omelet. Marta added coffee for me and set a plate of toast and a bowl of orange marmalade in front of me. - Thank you, Martha.

Grisha exchanged glances with Sery and looked at Misha.

- Did you get anything out of the old dead man?

- He contacted someone, - Misha answered, - but not in the city. All calls generally went abroad. Grisha exchanged glances with Gray again.

I calmly smeared the toast with jam. Misha's words did not really clarify the picture, but confirmed my version that there was someone else. True, I had no ideas about this, but not all at once. The main thing is that Kokhan was here, and Misha could deal with the mayor. I had no desire to waste time and resources on a disgusting child pornography lover.

- The mayor is yours, - I said to Misha. “Do with him what you want and how you want,” I added, crunching my toast.

The wolf froze with a cup of coffee and looked at me with surprise.

- I'm not ordering you, - I immediately explained, noticing also Grisha's look. "I'm just giving my opinion," I added, dabbing my lips with a napkin. - Well, or a wish.

Misha nodded in agreement and returned to coffee. Gray was amused by the dialogue and he lovingly ran his hand over the machine gun, with which he had not parted since the night. Grisha's gaze became even heavier and more suspicious.

“It looks like guests are coming to us,” Gray remarked, as if by the way.

Grisha and Mikhail listened at the same time.

I calmly finished my coffee and lit a cigarette. I wouldn't have heard anything anyway, and why? Whoever is driving will definitely not pass by.

“Let your guys put away their weapons and take a walk near the house,” I said to Grisha. “I don’t want these creatures scurrying around the area. Moreover, they are unlikely to have warrants, the absence of which, of course, they will not tell us.

- At such a time it is not realistic to find a judge, - Misha confirmed, checking his expensive wristwatch.

“It’s better for you to leave for now, too,” I continued, gently touching Grisha’s hand.

As the cops approached, presumably led by my former lover, the black fire in his eyes grew stronger, and I wanted to avoid his hasty actions. At first I wanted to listen to what Egor had prepared for me, if it really was him, and then forcibly weigh his grudge against me and mine against him.

Grisha did not answer, but deftly grabbed my hand and kissed it, and disappeared along with Gray.

“Let Rosa open it,” I said to Martha. You don't need to shine.

The girl nodded and hurried to the kitchen, from which her aunt was already walking. I didn't avoid her gaze, but given how I felt looking at her, I tried to keep my stares as short as possible. There will still be time for this. Someday.

For ten minutes Misha and I sat in silence and waiting. I was glad that he was there. Violence is violence, but I didn’t want to add problems to myself, and the lawyer just had to contribute to this. Yes, and in his presence, Yegor will not go too far, as he would have done if Alyosha was here, who, in his opinion, was a stupid thug, whose main and only usefulness was in the muscles, which, of course, was not so.

There was a loud and insistent knock on the door. The lock clicked, the door slammed, steps were heard, and then he appeared, Major Yegor Panov.

I met his gaze and for a short time seemed to fall into the life in which we were together. It was a strange feeling: kind of warm, but at the same time cool, as if it was not me, but a completely different girl with him. But those eyes... His eyes... Still, I once loved them. I loved when they did not have that expression of disgust that I saw now. She loved him when he did not smell of malice and that slipperiness that was transferred to him from the previous major along with shoulder straps.

“Hi, Egor,” I said calmly.

Misha did not show that he was surprised at my appeal. After all, he did not know that I was more than closely acquainted with Major Panov.

- Do you want coffee? I politely suggested.

“You will come with me,” Yegor declared demandingly and with intolerance, jerking his hand nervously, as if he wanted to get a pistol that was in a holster on his belt.

- Mikhail Ibragimov. Misha got up from the table and stood behind me. - I'm Mrs. Angelova's lawyer. To begin with, please introduce yourself,” he added, “and explain the purpose of your outrageously rude request.

“Your client,” chirped a certain female person who accompanied Yegor, “is wanted on suspicion of the murder of Boris Sergeevich Angelov, that is, her husband, and also ...

- Nonsense! Misha snorted. - Kira Valerievna was not in the house on the day of her husband's murder, which you should have learned from her written testimony, which she gave before entering into the inheritance half a year ago, - he lied, without even blinking. His father forged all the documents. - If the prosecutor's office had at least some claims against her, as you understand, this would not have happened.

- Claims are now! - the girl did not calm down.

She looked at me quite angrily. Really, I didn’t consider myself the most beautiful, but she could use plastic surgery and a few tips from a stylist on how to visually lengthen her legs and reduce her waist. Although in relation to the latter there was one more remedy: it was called a diet.

Well, at worst, you could starve, so as not to look like a barrel on two sausages.

- Well, - Misha calmly answered her, - but I want to see the relevant documents. Including those that allow your employees to trample the lawn outside Ms. Angelova's house.

The girl's face broke into an unpleasant smile.

- Please! - she burbled smugly, throwing a cheap cop folder on a string on the table. - Read! In the meantime, Ms. Angelova and I will go to the prosecutor's office. Do you have someone to leave the child to? she asked innocently.

Egor's face changed, and the smell of his desperate anger became a little weaker. The mention of the child puzzled him. Obviously, he didn't know about it, or maybe he didn't believe it.

Well, well... His problems. I don’t think, of course, that there was anything about Nikita in the folder that his colleague threw at us with such pride, but in any case, Egor should have done his homework better before sticking in on me.

Well, or if it was too lazy to read, then a little bit of my meager brains and at least admit that after the death of my husband I might not have been left alone, and without protection.

By the way, his colleague would also do well to think a little before talking about my child in the presence of his father. Or did she, the fool, think that that bunch of people that was on the street, or the same Yegor, could protect her from my wolfhound? Hmm... Well, good luck!

Grisha appeared out of nowhere. Misha did not even have time to reach for the folder, as Yegor was already in an iron grip, and the bitch from the prosecutor's office was completely absorbed by the attention of Gray.

I threw a cigarette butt into a cup and, together with Misha, followed Grisha to the gym. A good choice, in my opinion, for ... a heart-to-heart conversation.

I know I wanted to hear what Yegor had to say first, but he never said anything other than the ear-piercing demand to go with him. Maybe Grisha will have more luck.

The wolfhound tore a pistol from Yegor's belt and, throwing it on the bench, lowered a two-hundred-kilogram barbell onto him, only slightly holding it so that it would not crush him.

- Hi! Grisha murmured. - Remember me?

Yegor widened his eyes and mumbled something unintelligible.

- It seems to me that it means "yes," Grisha noted playfully. - What do you think, Misha?

- Definitely yes, - the wolf answered, indifferently flipping through the papers in the folder, smelling of old paper. How many names have been in it before mine?

Egor was breathing harder. Waves of indignation, anger and complete helplessness flowed from him. Yes, this is what happens when you naively oppose a force that surpasses yours.

The wolfhound inhaled his scent with pleasure and tilted his head to the side.

- Well, tell me, my friend, - he said, looking down at him. - As a young life?

- Scum! Yegor spat.

- You're handsome! - Grisha smiled, apparently expecting something like that, and let go of the bar a little.

Egor wheezed and blushed like a tomato, trying in vain to lift the barbell that was pressing on his chest.

- And they did a good job, - said Misha, while Yegor continued to be silent. - I suppose they blew all the dust from the archive, reshaping old cases, and it’s easy to stagger accusations here. For life only so pulls. Even two, if, of course, not to find fault with unacceptable errors, typos and obvious vagueness, who do they accuse at all: Kira No. 1 or Kira No. 2? he added with a sneer.

I leaned against one of the simulators and, taking the folder from Misha, looked through its contents. He was right: they did a more than good job. When did they get it?! They were not too lazy even to pull out my brother's cases, to raise the case of a robbery of a jewelry store, but they "sewed" everything in a row: from bribing officials and forging documents to organizing a criminal group and murder, and more than one.

And yes, to decide who they needed, the late Zotova, whose faked death they kind of proved, referring to something incomprehensible, or the mysteriously disappeared Angelova, whom they could not see anywhere for a year after the contract killing of her husband.

Simply shock! Yes, it turns out I was a lady hoo, how busy, and even very insidious and dangerous! I should have been afraid! Everyone, everyone, everyone!

- Nu, that, falcon clear? Will you sing? the wolfhound asked Egor insinuatingly. - Which of my girls would you like to take and where? Tell! Tell me quickly! And then I'll be offended! Grisha murmured.

- Fuck you! - followed the answer.

Grisha's expression changed dangerously. He easily dropped the bar and, tearing Yegor off the bench, threw him to the floor. As then at the cemetery, Grisha did not stint on a kick, followed by a second and would have followed a third if I had not intervened.

- Grisha! Enough! - I gave the folder to Misha and went up to Yegor.

To be honest, I was disgusted by what was happening. Not so much Grisha's actions as Yegor's behavior: his look, his smell, mixed with the smell of that vile folder.

It's not like it wasn't true at all. I was outside the law for a long time, like Grisha, but the truth was generally a very subjective thing, no matter what anyone said, but ... But, but, but ... It didn’t get any easier.

I already had almost all the pieces of the puzzle, so what did I want to hear from Yegor?

The last time we saw each other in his apartment, when I came to see him with Alyosha. Then I was not particularly kind and never thought about him after that, did not think about how his life turned out, how the city showdowns after the death of Boris affected him. Maybe he was hurt, but didn't I care?

It was. And how.

He had a choice: stay in the mentor or leave the city. He decided to stay, go to another more, so to speak, bread department, feed himself from someone else’s hands, which was evident from the expensive leather belt and branded sneakers, and today come to me with a fat bitch from the prosecutor’s office, a bunch of lousy pieces of paper that almost any lawyer could smash me to smithereens, and take me somewhere with a firm attitude.

And what was worst of all, I could not understand: was he really a fool who flushed his life and work experience down the toilet, who did not even understand that he was framed, or was there something else?

“Two things happened last night,” I said. - Do you know about them?

Yegor burned me with a look full of hatred, but did not answer.

- Who sent you here? I asked. Silence again. - Don't play with me, Egor. All your papers are complete bullshit and you know it.

“I know that you are a criminal,” Yegor finally honored me with an answer.

- Well, don't you? Leather belt, branded sneakers... Do you think I'll believe you came here to do your duty? Arrest me and give me a fair trial?

- Do you talk about justice?! - Yegor grinned wryly, running over me with an expressive look. Look who you've become! Your father was a bandit, your brother too, I won’t say anything about your faithful Angelov. Well, and you... You've become a monster!

Grisha kicked Yegor in the face, and the first blood of the day, staining the floor of the gym, pinched his nose with a metallic sharpness.

- Did yours fool around at night? Grisha asked, juicy inhaling the smell of blood and fear.

- I have no idea...

- Just don't f*ck! interrupted Grisha. "Or they'll carry you out of here piecemeal!" Who pulls your dogs on the leash?

Yegor smeared the blood that was gushing out of his nose on his face and looked at me with a sneer.

“Your helpers are golden, Kira,” he said. - And how smart!

I stopped Grisha from hitting Yegor again and squatted down.

- We know what the mayor is pulling, but who is pulling him? Who is his assistant?

Yegor pursed his lips in disappointment. Still, he was a fool to have slipped into this.

- What happened to you? - not without bitterness I asked, examining him. - You were an honest person. What pressed you? What did they promise?

Egor spat on the floor and grinned. How I did not like his look! Already twisted!

- Honest? he asked. - Honest, yes ... Until I contacted you.

What, what, but I did not expect such an accusation.

It's funny, yes, how people, and not only them, liked to put the blame on anyone but themselves.

Wow, so I, it turns out, was the reason that he became what he became.

Well, well... Then welcome to the club! I also blamed myself for a lot. Maybe I should have told him about my mistakes so that we could cry together over the vicissitudes of fate and the consequences of our decisions? Offer vodka, since he did not agree to coffee?

"It's not my fault..." I began, frankly, losing my patience.

I was not pleased that Grisha was beating him, and even more so, I was not happy that he was most likely going to kill him, but, insulting me, Yegor seemed to ask for it himself.

- Is it not your fault that you decided to live for yourself? Yegor interrupted angrily. - You fucked me! And now you blow your lips that I also decided to live for myself and take care of my parents? I also have a sister, if you remember, and she has children ... - Egor stopped short, as if he was afraid that he had said too much, and then waved his hand. - Yes, what can you understand?!

So that's what it was! Was he first fed with money, and then threatened with reprisals against his family? Well, well ... Everything ingenious is not only simple, but also as old as the world.

“I have a son,” I admitted. Yegor threw an uncertain look at me, apparently remembering the words of his companion. - His name is Nikita. He is four and a half months old. Because of him I'm here. More precisely, I'm not with him now, because it's safer for him. Understand? I'm being torn apart from all sides. They even hooked you up. And I want to know who supports the mayor, who inspires him that he can shoot wolves and half-breeds with impunity, even using police special forces for this. You know what a mayor is, so help me. After all, you and I were not always the same as now, and once between us everything was different, there was a lot of good.

Yegor was silent, staring at the floor, and I was already beginning to regret that I had once again acted contradictoryly, frankly with him, but my former lover looked up at me and broke the silence.

“I don’t know everything, Kira,” he said without the former nasty intonation, “but this girl from the prosecutor’s office showed up two days ago. She's the mayor's wife's sister's daughter or something. In short, she began to dig under you. Her pussies were dubious and she blurted out the matter at random. All the time she threatened that if she was not helped, she would call somewhere, write to someone, and so on. And at night they called me and said that in the morning I should go for you. I said it was a bad idea because of the conflict of interest. Then they started threatening me.

- Who called? Misha asked.

"I don't know," Yegor replied. - The voice was unfamiliar. And he broke down all the time.

- Where were you told to bring Kira? - asked Grisha.

Egor lowered his gaze and sighed heavily.

- The Queen of Spades.