9
BODHI
The sun is barely up when Igor appears at the end of the corridor, his scarred face impassive as ever. He looks at my rumpled clothes and weary expression but doesn’t comment.
“Boss wants to see you.”
I push off from the wall outside Emma’s door and roll the stiffness out of my shoulders. I’ve been standing here all night, listening to her toss and turn, until dawn finally coaxed her into bed, giving her the courage to abandon her post at the door.
“Now?” I ask, though I’m already moving toward him. I don’t want to leave her, but I need to stretch my legs.
Igor just grunts and turns, expecting me to follow. I spare one last glance at my mate’s door before falling into step behind him.
My fingers curl around the bronze key in my pocket, giving me comfort that nobody will be going in there while I’m gone.
The mansion is quieter in the early morning light. The bustle of staff here last night is muted now.
We descend the sweeping staircase and pass through a series of corridors until we reach a formal dining room that looks like it belongs in a magazine spread.
Kozlov sits alone at the head of a massive table, newspapers spread before him, looking every inch the successful businessman in his charcoal suit. The dark tattoos showing beneath his collar and at his wrist are the only hints of what lies beneath the civilized veneer.
“Ah, Lennox.” Kozlov gestures to a chair without looking up from his paper. “Sit. Have some breakfast.”
The table is weighed down with an elaborate spread. Fresh fruit piled high, pastries that smell of melted butter and icing sugar, and eggs Benedict that look almost too perfect to eat. All laid out in front of one man who dines alone. I’ve never seen extravagance like this. I’ve got the appetite of a bear, but this feels like a waste.
I take the offered seat and help myself to coffee, waiting. Men like Kozlov don’t summon you for small talk. He wants something.
“I noticed something interesting on the security feed.” A pause. “You.” Kozlov finally sets down his paper, pale eyes fixing on me with unsettling focus, and I wait for him to make his point. “You stood outside Miss Wilson’s door all night. The guards assure me you didn’t even take a nap.”
I take a slow sip of strong coffee, letting the bitterness steady me. “When we brought Emma inside, some of your men seemed far too intrigued by her for my liking.”
His eyebrow arches slightly. “Did they now?”
His voice drops in tone, and the paper crinkles between his fingers, his grip hardening.
“You explicitly told me to keep her safe, and you didn’t specify when that duty ended.” I set down the cup, meeting his gaze directly. “If something happened to her on my watch, Iknow exactly whose head would roll.” I shrug. “I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Kozlov studies me for a long moment, so I settle in, unhurried, like I belong here. He needs to believe that I’m just the new guy who wants to cover his ass on his first day playing in the big leagues. Self-preservation and ambition. Those are things a man like Kozlov understands.
Finally, he smiles, a cold expression that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Smart man.” He picks up his coffee and swirls the dark liquid. “I appreciate someone who takes initiative, Lennox. Too many of my men need their hands held through every decision, or aren’t willing to go above and beyond. They’ve become lazy. Too comfortable in their positions.” He pauses, considering. “I’m putting you in charge of her security until the auction. You can use a couple of Igor’s men if you need them, but she’s your responsibility now. Round the clock until I say otherwise.”
I keep my face blank even as my bear bellows in triumph. “Understood.”
“Good.” Kozlov returns to his newspaper, clearly dismissing me. “And Lennox? Don’t disappoint me.”
Igor’s warning from last night echoes in my head as I meet Kozlov’s eye, and he gives me a brief nod, tipping his head toward the door.
Time to leave. I push back from the table and hold Kozlov’s gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
“I won’t.”
As I follow Igor out of the dining room, Dimitri goes inside. I listen for his gravelly tone and slow my steps, letting Igor get ahead of me while I strain to hear.
“He hasn’t gone to the cops, but he’s nervous.” Dimitri’s voice carries a note of impatience. “We should just kill him now before he becomes a problem. We already have the girl.”
I drop to a crouch and retie my laces, ignoring Igor, who turns and gives me an exasperated look, checking his watch to highlight his annoyance.
