“Yes. But something real may have slipped through. I want every location on that list checked and checked again.” I grab my coat from beside the door. “Gregor. Go upstairs. Get that list processed. Send me everything you uncover.”
Gregor nods once and does as he’s told. Sacha and I step back into the snow.
“You are going back to Roza Dom,” he says, yanking on his gloves and glaring at the busy street. “Aren’t you?”
“She’s the best fact check we have.”
“You are going to supply her with what she requested? Like pumping poison into the teeth of a viper.”
“I’ll limit her access. I’m not a fool.”
“She can’t be trusted.”
“I know that. Sacha.” He looks at me. “Keep my brother safe.”
With a grim nod, he climbs into one of the waiting cars at the curb and glides into traffic.
Chapter Six
Annika
He returns as night falls, snow dusting the shoulders of his coat. He’s touched by the cold: there’s pink in his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Dark curls in his eyes, he looks fevered and unmoored. My first instinct is that I should strike now, sink my teeth into him while his guard is lowered. My second is that if we were in very different circumstances and I needed nothing at all from Maxim Volkov, I would still want to do the same thing.
“Welcome.” I gesture grandly to the room, where the only changed aspect is the neat stack of boxes in one corner. “My amenities arrived. Thank you.”
“Sit down.”
“Ooh. Feeling demanding, are we?” But I do as he says, gathering my flowing silk robe and sitting demurely beside the low table as we did last night. Many things are different now, though. I have my own clothes. I’m cleaned and rested. My instincts are tuned. “Bad day at the office?”
“One of your father’s men was caught lurking outside the hospital where Alexei is staying.”
Careless.No—meditated. My father is never careless. “Which presumably you already realize was planned?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“The man—Fedor—gave us a list of locations your father might be hiding, or hiding a cache of weapons, or drugs, or even cash. Once it’s cross-referenced, you’re going to go through every single one with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Of course,” I say. This time I bat my lashes. “I am at your service, after all, Maxim.”
His eyes flash, but he doesn’t reply. He’s thrown off. What is that has him so frightened? Not me, surely. No—it’s the flex. My father hasn’t spoken, but what he’s said is still loud and clear.
No one is safe from me.
“Don’t let it get to you,” I say. I realize with a jolt that, in a way, I mean the words.Why? Max kidnapped me. I’d rather take my bastard father’s side than this stranger’s. Wouldn’t I?I busy myself pouring Maxim a drink. He takes it, fingers grazing mine. “You already knew that if my father wanted one of you dead, he’d kill you.”
“He’s not as powerful as he used to be.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, honestly. Suddenly, I’m curious: what will I find if I dig deeply on my estranged father? Is his business really gathering so much momentum he feels empowered to kill other Bratva men? What is he so eager to protect?Or hide?“When will the computers arrive?”
“Tomorrow.” Maxim drinks.
Despite the surprisingly genuine empathy running through me, I know I can’t waste this moment. I’ve had a lot of time to think, today—a lot of time to plot. If I want my children, my little girls Manya and Karine back, if I want to disappear back into the world, I need to play this carefully. And quickly.
Step one is winning Maxim to my cause. Not overtly, of course. But over time. Weakening his resolve, chipping away at his cold, impregnable exterior.
It shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, I’ve done it before.
