“Okay.”
“I should ask Mila for copies of the records, too.”
“That’s right,” he answered. “I’ll ask her to put them together as you dress. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
“Okay,” I uttered, heading towards my bedroom as he left the hallway.
I spent just one minute in the room, adding a jacket to my jeans and T-shirt outfit before stepping out. Mila was waiting for me in the sitting room with a file.
“Thank you,” I told her. “Really.”
“Come on, girl,” she remarked, looking towards the door. “Don’t keep Mr. Konstantin waiting.”
“Bye,” I whispered as I left.
I took a deep breath as I got to the balcony. It seemed like ages since the last time I was here.
“Is that my jacket?” Konstantin asked as he approached the balcony, holding a hand out for me.
“It is. I took it from your closet yesterday,” I confessed.
“It looks good on you,” he said, opening the back door of a waiting SUV for me.
I got in silently, not knowing what to do with a compliment from a man who just called me a liar.
The ride was silent, for the most part. I looked out the window and didn’t look towards him, even when he talked to me.
I was sitting beside him like a consort in the wide office a few minutes later. Viktor and Mikhail came in together, then Roman arrived about two minutes later. The surprise on their faces was evident; Mikhail even joked about it, but they didn’t say anything that made me feel wrong for being there. Neither did I feel awkward or uncomfortable as I answered Viktor’s questions and presented the papers on the table.
The brothers arrived at the same conclusion: There was a mole. Someone within the Bratva was trying to implicate me and escape being found out.
“Konstantin,” Viktor called. “Handle the mole quietly. No police involvement.”
“Understood, brother,” he answered.
As the meeting ended and I was about to retrieve the papers, I caught sight of a name in Viktor’s briefing notes.
Mila Petrov.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Konstantin’s POV
I didn’t stop glancing at Alina as we drove away from the house. It was clear she didn't want to speak with me. I couldn’t fault her for it, regardless of how much I didn’t want it.
Being the only lady in a room of mafia lords, Alina was nowhere near intimidated. I sat beside her with pride as she contributed and listened. I could have pulled her into a hug as we left, but I knew she wouldn’t want that.
“You did well in there,” I praised as we got to the unpaved parking lot.
“That went better than I thought,” she answered, blowing out a breath from her mouth.
I opened the front door for her, and she raised a questioning brow.
“I’m driving us back,” I explained.
She looked like she was about to say something, but she nodded and got in. I shut her door and went around the car to the driver’s side, her closing up on me making me feel hollow inside.
I found myself hoping what I planned gets to her, even if in the tiniest of ways.
