Holden shrugs. “Guilty.”
“What is going on in this fucking house?” Micah mutters, leaving the office.
Gage loves getting a rise out of Micah as much as I do, and I know Gage’s pretty boy ass wouldn’t be caught dead in lime green.
I open the folder Holden gave me about the foster parents and curse under my breath. “Six fucking kids in that house. Four of them under six.”
Holden nods. “Yeah. That part sucks. No way you can hide kids that small.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say, sliding that folder to the side that would have to come later, mostly because I need to call in a favor I don’t want to do.
I open the next one, and my blood starts boiling. “This name belongs to the fucking Russians.”
Russians as in Viktor Orlov, Alexey, and Dmitri’s dad. They are nothing like their shit dad and friends of mine, not that Viktor knows that. Hehateswomen in any position; his mindset is a woman should be there to serve her husband.
Fuck that. I don’t have anything against a woman with that mindset, but that isn’t me.
“I tracked it back as far as possible without hacking Viktor’s server. I’m ninety-nine percent sure the orders are coming from him.”
That’s fucking great.
I text Micah to come back to the office. When he enters, Holden excuses himself, and I can’t get over how proud he looks walking through the door.
“Did you have something to tell me, shithead, or are you just going to drool all day?” Micah asks dryly, flopping down in Holden’s chair.
“I don’t know, probably drool. Have you seen the man candy in this house?”
“Alright, I’m done.” Micah goes to get up.
“I’m kidding,” I laugh before sobering to slide the file to Micah. I stab my finger at the sheet. “That name look familiar?”
“Is that one of Orlov’s?” Micah growls. No love is lost between the Russians and Italians, but Micah still holds a grudge over how Viktor talked to me at the last gala.
“Sure is,” I reply, then run my fingers through my hair. “This isn’t like taking out some small time like Jerry. This is Viktor Orlov, and he just declared war.”
Italians might be the most powerful, but the Russians run a close third, right behind Evander and Mateo for Mexico.
“We can’t let this go,” Micah points out, and it pisses me off.
“No shit,” I bark, and he raises an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you would.”
I sigh. “I know. Fuck. I’m used to everyone thinking I can’t do this because I have boobs.”
Micah chuckles. “I assure you no one in this house, including me, doubts you.” He shudders. “Just don’t mention your boobs again.”
“Oh my God. And you call me a child,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
He tilts his head to the side, the same weird thing I do, and my dad did. “You seem better,” he states, referring to me being a hot mess when I showed up at his house.
“I am.”
He leans forward in his chair. “Les, if you ever need someone to talk to, you know you can come to me, right?”
I smile softly. “I know. I just got overwhelmed, but everything is falling into place,” I say and hope I didn’t just jinx myself. “You can go now,” I tell him, knowing it will crawl under his skin at being dismissed. I try to hide my smile when his eyes narrow.
“I’m going to let that one go.” He gets up and storms from the room, my laughter following him.
