He moves to his desk, settling into his chair with the easy confidence of a man who owns everything he touches. For a moment, he just looks at me, assessing.
I meet his gaze without flinching or giving anything away.
"Tell me about Iosef," he says finally.
I keep my expression neutral. "He's unhappy. One of his men—Pyotr—is dead. And about a dozen of their other men, probably."
Ilya's eyebrows rise slightly. "I heard. Quite the mess you left behind."
I shrug. "They tried to keep me from leaving based on their own baseless suspicions. I defended myself."
Ilya sucks lightly at his teeth. "And the mission?"
“Not as fruitful as I know you had hoped,” I tell him regretfully, which isn’t difficult. Idoregret pretty much everything about the way that situation went down… except for saving Svetlana. I can’t bring myself to regret that.
I can’t bring myself to regret fucking her, either.
Don’t think about that.The slightest hint of that memory makes my cock twitch, threatening to distract me and give me an entirely inappropriate reaction to the conversation we’re having right now.
Ilya studies me for a long moment, his pale eyes sharp and assessing. "Walk me through it," he says. "From the beginning."
I nod sharply, leaning back in my chair and keeping my body language open. Unconcerned. "I arrived at the compound as planned. Iosef was welcoming enough at first. We had dinner, discussed terms. They talked a lot about their businesses, their connections. He was showing off for me.”
"Showing off how?" Ilya’s mouth is tight.
“Expensive vodka, cigars, women. He bragged a lot about the women, which is how I learned about their trafficking on the side.”
Ilya nods slowly. “And the violence started off because?”
I draw in a slow breath. “I don’t think I was as appreciative of the women as Iosef would have liked. They had one kept in their cells under the compound, apparently. She got out. Iosef thought I had something to do with it, that you’d sent me to undermine him. Things got out of hand quickly, as they do when men like that have been drinking.” I shrug. “I tried to de-escalate, but I defended myself when it became clear thathe wasn’t going to listen to reason. It spilled out into the compound. Some of them chased me into the woods."
Ilya’s jaw twitches. "And you killed them all there?"
"Most of them. A few I took out on my way back to the vehicle."
"Impressive. And you didn't think to call for backup?"
"No signal. The storm was interfering with communications."
Ilya nods. “So that’s why you were radio silent for what… two days?”
“I called as soon as I got to a safe house where I could get a signal and call for an extraction.” I also paid the men who got us out handsomely, along with various unsubtle threats, to ensure that they wouldn’t share who else was with me, and got on that plane. But that’s going to my grave with me.
Hopefully, I’m not digging it right now.
“It’s a shame to lose a business partner that had such promise.” Ilya cracks his neck, standing up and walking toward the window. “But if he was trafficking women, then I would have had no interest in continuing to work with Iosef, anyway. So good riddance, as far as I’m concerned.” He looks back at me. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece. I would have been pissed if men like that took out my best man.”
His mouth twitches with a hint of amusement at the double meaning—not only have I been his right hand for a long time now, but I was also the best man at his wedding to Mara.
“It would take more than that to get rid of me.” I manage an answering chuckle, and Ilya looks back out at the setting sun beyond the large windows of the office.
"You know, I've been thinking about Svetlana lately."
Every muscle in my body wants to tense. I don't let them.
"Yeah?" I keep my tone neutral.
"I should have protected her better." He's still looking at that distant point. "When everything happened in that warehouse, I should have… I don't know. Done something different."
