Immigrant girl

Chapter 35. Alex.

I was sitting in my home office. My task ahead was to distract the Mexicans so that the feds could bug them. I'll have to invite them to the engagement party. Anyway, it won't look strange because we're still partners.

There, I'll be able to talk to Mendez and demand a meeting with the head of the Cartel. Due to the attempted murder of Caleb, I have that right. I need to contact Davis, let him know about my distraction plan. Just the thought of having to talk to him made me seethe with anger and jealousy.

I tried to push those feelings as far away as possible because I had more important things to do than constantly think about ways to kill him.

The engagement was planned for Sunday, which means the day after tomorrow. Davis will have time to prepare everything.

I dialed his number, heard the long rings, and then his voice, with that annoying British accent, slowly said:

"Go ahead."

"Hey, Davis,"  I smirked. "How's it going, agent?"

"Everything's fine, thank you. How are things, Mr. Dovlatov? How's the preparation for the engagement going?" I could hear the smugness in his voice. Idiot.

"I'm calling about that."

"You want to invite me?"  he paused for a couple of seconds, then continued  "It's such an honor, but I'm afraid I won't be able to attend. They say an FBI agent at the Mafia Boss's engagement is a bad omen. I don't want your wedding to be ruined in any way."  he chuckled softly.

"Your wit, Davis, strikes me every time." I rolled my eyes. "I'll invite the Mexicans to the engagement to give you time to bug them."

"Are you sure Mendez will accept your invitation? After all, he tried to kill your right-hand man, burned down your club, and then threw your informant's severed head into your yard. From this, I can conclude that your relationship is currently in a bit of a crisis." he laughed again.

"Despite all that, we remain partners, and a partner's engagement is a significant event that cannot be ignored." I wanted to punch him right in his fucking pretty face.

"All right, fine. I'll still call him in, press him, scare him, tell him you might suspect he's the one who set you up. If your man didn't spill the beans before he died that he leaked you about the raid, Mendez might think you sent a rat to find out about it." I had to admit, Davis was very smart, and he was good at his job. "When's the engagement party?"

"Sunday. It'll be at my house."

"Alright. I'll call you after I talk to Mendez." and he hung up. A true Englishman, doesn't say goodbye.

I turned around in my chair to face the large panoramic window. I was looking at the city, which fascinated me. My gaze constantly returned to where her house stood. Stop it, Dovlatov. You shouldn't think about her anymore. You told her everything you wanted. Heard what you needed to hear. She hates you. So stop wallowing in your suffering and return to your former state. Namely, the state of the big and scary Boss of the Russian Mafia.

I didn't hear the door to the office open, and from behind, Sam approached me with light steps.

Her hands rested on my shoulders. But I didn't even flinch. I smelled the CHANEL perfume I hated so much.

"Hi, darling." Oh god, not this circus again.

"Hi, Samantha. What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" I turned to her, looked her in the eyes with complete indifference. She frowned.

"Hey, wanted to see you," Sam perched on the edge of my desk. "And also to say that everything's set for the engagement."

"Can you send me the guest list? I need to double-check something," I was pretty sure there were no Mexicans on that list. Sam's not dumb, but there's a lot she doesn't know.