Lev glances over his shoulder and drops his voice low. “One of his men came to me. Said his boss wanted me to pass the message along. Asked me to get you.”
I tilt my head and study Lev. He’s my second-in-command. My right arm. If I didn’t have to play it smart right now, I would cave his fucking face in.
“And you’re sure this messenger can be believed?”
Lev meets my gaze steadily. “Trust me. It’s real.”
Trust me.
My jaw grinds as I think it through. It’s too fucking easy. I hold his stare, keep my face unreadable. But inside, my mind is racing. If Sima was telling the truth, then Anatoli is moving exactly the way she said he would. And if she wasn’t, then Lev is either compromised or already being played.
Either way, I can’t afford to let him sense any hesitation.
I nod once. Slow, measured. “Fine. Let me wrap this up here, and I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t take too long,” Lev warns. “Offers like these don’t come every day. We don’t want to test Anatoli’s patience.”
I don’t say anything to that.
As soon as Lev walks away, I cross back into the warehouse. Mikhael is still directing cleanup. The scene already looks much less bloody than five minutes ago.
“Mikh.”
My cousin’s gaze lifts. He must sense that something is amiss, because he comes over right away. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s up.”
I keep my voice low so only he can hear. On the surface, I make it look like I’m giving him more instructions about tonight’s crisis. But my words are for him alone.
“Anatoli’s moving. Bring our best shooters and follow us discreetly.”
Mikhael’s eyes flick back to mine, understanding sharp in them. “Should I tell them what this is about?”
“No. Tell no one.”
“Understood.” He gives me the barest nod, then turns back to bark more orders, like he’s just gotten them from me.
I straighten, jaw tight, and glance once more at the dark smear of blood on the concrete.
It seems not all the answers died here tonight after all.
I turn and exit the warehouse. Whatever game Anatoli thinks he’s playing, I’ll be ready. I’m not falling for his traps.
And if Sima’s part in this mess turns out to be more than she admitted, I’ll know soon enough.
63
PETYR
The docks are quiet at this hour.,
Lev is driving, his hands steady on the wheel, but I can see the tension in the tight set of his jaw. His eyes won’t meet mine. His posture is rigid, spine drawn straight, muscles clenched enough to snap. Too goddamn controlled.
The sight grates on me. It’s unlike him. I’ve known the man for a decade. Long enough to recognize when he’s hiding something.
Or so I fucking thought.
Doubt chews at the back of my skull. About Lev, but also about Sima. The two of them won’t stop circling each other in my thoughts, and it makes me restless.
