His bossy tone sent a rush of awareness through me. It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it. Authoritative, but also calm and expectant. My gaze tripped on the soft fabric of his tee that stretched over his broad, muscular shoulders.
His beautiful gray eyes pinned me in place, cool and unwavering.
“No problem.” I forced my voice steady even though I suddenly felt nervous around him. “I can help.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two weeks later, early evening
AXEL
Maksim slida coffee across my desk toward me. “You ready for your daily update?”
I took a sip of the hot, bitter drink and winced. It had been more than a day and a half since I was last home, and it promised to be a long night ahead. Maksim, my right hand man, was the only reason I was still holding everything together.
“Yeah, go for it.”
He pulled out his notepad. “Okay. In the last twenty four hours, our westside warehouse was broken into. Our men on duty chased them off and they recognized one of the men as Volkov. Three of our trucks were vandalized down at the docks but nothing was stolen. And two of our guys were followed last night, but when they pulled over to confront their pursuers, they drove off.”
Typical bullshit scare tactics from the Volkov family. So far most of it had been petty stuff, and they hadn’t made any major moves since I’d arrived. Unfortunately, my murdered predecessor, Demetrius, had not been an organized man. Thebusiness had been in shambles, and I had spent the last month busting my ass to manage all the obvious vulnerabilities in the current operation. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Volkovs became more aggressive, so I was working overtime to get us in a good defensive position.
“One other thing. This was delivered by courier a few minutes ago.”
It was a large envelope with my name handwritten on it.
I tipped it open and emptied the contents on my desk. There had to be over three dozen surveillance photos. All of them were of Mila. Walking down the street. Walking alone on the beach. Coming out of the same three cafés on multiple occasions, carrying a single takeout bag. Shopping alone at department stores. Entering our home, alone. Receiving meal delivery at our front door. Alone.
I stood there, silent, while my mind raced in circles. Heat flooded my gut, and I couldn’t move while the rage washed over me.
“Boss?”
Someone had been intensely surveilling my young wife.
My heart pounded hard.
Mila.
They had been following her for weeks, while I had left her home alone.
I clamped my fingers around the edge of the table.
She looked so alone in these photos. So vulnerable.
Shame made me clench my jaw to the point of pain.
“Boss, how do you want me to handle this?”
Maksim’s question burned off my paralyzing emotions and snapped me into action. I needed to secure her safety.
I moved with speed to dial her number.
No answer. I texted her.
Me: Call me
No response.
“I’m leaving,” I told Maksim, as I gathered up all the photos and put them back in the envelope.
