“But my job… my things?—”
“You don’t need things,” he murmured quietly. “You need to live.”
He turned away, speaking rapidly into the phone. The front door opened, and a cold winter wind swirled briefly before it closed tight. Brody and Rhiannon were all smiles as they strolled in, arm in arm. They took seats at the bar. Kiki spoke to them and then turned to grab one of our most expensive bottles of tequila off the shelf.
With Archer at the other end of the counter, I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Vaguely, I was aware of Archer lowering his phone slightly and striding to where Brody and Rhiannon were laughing with Kiki. He ended his call and began speaking to Brody.
With heavy feet, I made my way to where they all sat. As I got there, I heard Archer say I was sick, he was my brother, and he was taking me home.
Kiki turned to me as Archer prowled to the front entrance and looked out into the dark night. “I didn’t know you had a brother,” she suspiciously murmured.
“Me either,” Brody chimed in with a concerned frown.
Giving them a small smile that I hoped seemed reassuring, I nodded. “Well, half-brother. And yeah, he lives in North Carolina, so we don’t see each other much. He’s only in town for the holidays. Awful time for me to be sick, but I think it might be the flu. My friend had it last week.” The lies rolled effortlessly off my tongue, and I honestly didn’t know who I was anymore.
Brody cast a glance at Archer, seeming unconvinced. Finally, he returned his attention to me. “Okay, well, take all the time you need. Stop by urgent care on your way home and maybe you can get the Tamiflu thing. Rhiannon said she can help out while you’re out.”
“Just take care of yourself. I’m on a staycation through the end of the year, so I can help Brody here,” Rhiannon confirmed. She gave me a kind and concerned smile.
“Thank you both,” I choked out as my hands shook, trying to slide the photograph back into the envelope. It took several tries. The neat handwriting mocked me.
Congratulations, they had said. This wasn’t a warning anymore. It was a promise.
And somewhere, someone was smiling, knowing they’d finally gotten under my skin— and likely Maksim’s. Knowing they’d proven one thing beyond doubt—they had no trouble gaining access to my home, my work, to me.
Konstantin had been right.
I was a liability to Maksim.
And Archer was right.
I wasn’t safe.
Chapter 4
Maksim
The call came while Viktor and I were just getting started.
Breath clouding in the icy air, I stood in the snow-covered courtyard of the compound, knuckles aching from impact. Two men lay facedown where they’d fallen—alive, yes, conscious, barely. They’d talk eventually. They always did when you took your time and removed their cocky certainty one piece at a time—along with other things.
Viktor wiped his hands with a cloth as if he were finished working on a vehicle, not breaking the bones in someone’s face. “Whether they talk or not is of no consequence. We have their names,” he muttered. “They were sloppy and left a paper trail. Routes. Payments. One brother sold access. Another sold information. Both thought the Armenians would protect them as they collected their money.”
“They won’t because they don’t give two shits about them,” I scoffed, saying what we both already knew to be true. “I still want to find out exactly who paid them for their treachery.” The paper trail Viktor spoke of only showed that they were paid by “someone.” I wanted to know who.
My phone vibrated. I pulled it out with another man’s blood staining my hands—the same blood that was splattered in the pristine, white snow.
Archer.
My brow pinched as I took the call. He wouldn’t call unless something was wrong. I pressed the phone to my cold ear and the world narrowed to his voice as I answered.
“Maksim. Things have escalated,” he announced without a hello, clipped, controlled. “She received a photograph at her place of work. Yes. The test. From inside her apartment.”
The cold no longer touched me. “When?”
“Just now.”
