Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nikolai
I should be getting on with work today, but I’m not.
My thoughts are plagued by Lauren, our child growing inside her, and the unfolding shitshow with her father and Aslanov.
I play around on my computer, trying to get my mind to focus, only to fail miserably. All I can think about is what my daughter is going to look like. I want her to have Lauren’s eyes. Her charisma, too.
That’sifshe actually gets to be born.
Anxiety stabs me like a machete.
Yobany urod!
The timing of all this fuckery with Aslanov and Charles Watson could not be worse. Old Charles is trying to frame me for all of the money he’s been skimming from Aslanov’s account—why? Does he have some sort of a beef with me? Does he even realize who he’s picking a fight with? Does he know that I got Lauren pregnant? What the fuck am I missing here?
Chert voz’mi!
I cannot have Aslanov find out about the baby, that much is clear. If he learns that an heiress is about to be born, he’ll do everything he can to get rid of her. The taste of that possibility feels bitter on my tongue, like poison spreading through my mouth. The very thought of that bastard laying a finger on my daughter—my blood, my legacy—makes bile rise in my throat. I’ve killed men for less than threatening what’s mine, and the idea that he could hurt an innocent child, my child, ignites something savage and protective in my chest that I’ve never felt before.
Ublyudok!
It was easy going up against Aslanov when it was just my skin in the game. But with a woman and my first child on the way, shit just got real.
Very fucking real.
The thought of what he could do to Lauren makes me want to break something. My phone rings, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Timur’s name flashes on the screen.
“Razgovarivat.Talk.”
Timur gets straight to the point. “Aslanov knows.”
No.
Chertovoy zhizni!
Two words. That’s all it takes for my lungs to close up. Every muscle in my body coils like a spring ready to snap. My free hand curls into a fist so tight my knuckles crack audibly.
“Knows what?”
“The USB. He knows that Lauren has it.”
A USB. I frown. It feels like relief and confusion at the same time. This is the first I’m hearing of this. I pause, the phone still at my ear as I think this through. A USB. The only reasonable explanation is that Lauren must have taken something from her father while she was digging around. Documents perhaps. Things she wasn’t meant to see. The logistics of how she acquired this don’t matter anymore.
What does matter are the consequences of her actions.
Timur goes on. “He knows thatsheknows about Sentinel International, and that he and Charles are doing business together.”
He?
My stomach cramps, the four walls of the office closing in. This is bad. Very fucking bad.
I get up from the chair, pacing the office back and forth. It helps to keep my legs moving, but the weight still presses onmy chest, speeding up the beat of my heart and shortening my breath.
“Niko? You still there, boss?”
“Da,” I grit out, crossing the office to grab my jacket.
