30
RORI
Who knewthree really good orgasms would clear your mind so much? I mean, I’ve had some great ones in the past, but these are next level. My mind feels clear for the first time in a while. Maybe that’s why I was able to successfully avoid Alonzo when we got back to the house and I went to grab a shower. He tried to insist he’d join me, but a quick call out from one of his men distracted him enough I slipped away to my room and put Hades outside to guard the door.
Now, Hades and I have broken into Ilya’s office once more, sweeping and searching for bugs, and finding a few in a few inconspicuous spots. I’ve already destroyed them and left them on Ilya’s desk. His men are slacking on his privacy and protection.
The room is quiet, as is the rest of the house, considering the late hour, just like I want it. I’m stiff and deliciously sore from that encounter, but it does nothing to stop me from looking at the blueprints again.
And I finally see it. The smallest change, but I check the dates on the blueprints. They were submitted to the city for permits five years ago, and while I know that not everything is on it, the majority of the first floor has always been the same. Except for one small addition. A small room at the back of the house that wasn’t there before. To most, it would look like a closet or something that was added but I know better.
Timur never adds anything to his home without a reason. That room is important for something. I search my memories, trying to recall what was in that space before. I close my eyes, picturing the hallways lined with expensive art and tacky decorations his wife insisted were modern and essential way back when.
Being rich doesn’t account for taste, that’s abundantly clear.
I picture the space, and my eyes pop open as I grab a pen and the notepad Ilya left on the table earlier. I start to draw, my memory still a bit fuzzy, but it’s enough that I can do a rough sketch. When I’m done, my gaze jumps between the drawing and blueprints, seeing the subtle differences.
It’s not a new room, it’s an expansion of the old one.
There used to be a room there, but it was a utility closet for the staff to use. I opened it once and found two of the staff members having a mid-shift tryst. They had stared at me in horror, but I had simply smiled, winked, and closed the door. The staff even then knew that I wasn’t someone to go running to Timur, Mishka or anyone else about what they got up to when they were on their own.
I’m still surprised they managed to accomplish that in such a small space.
So why did Timur expand it? He definitely wouldn’t have done it to make their lives easier. A selfless man, Timur Belov is not. So why? What is it hiding?
I purse my lips, moving to the second floor plans, but nothing sticks out. They left the second floor alone, though that doesn’t surprise me. The upper floor is for guests and where Timur’s main suite is. His wife died not long after I left, and while I can’t say it was at his hands, I wouldn’t be surprised. He tolerated her while fucking any woman he wanted, and she turned a blind eye, content to spend his money and play housewife.
Then there’s the basement. The plans show an unfinished basement, other than a utility room that houses the pool pumps and the house’s heating systems. But I know that’s a farce.
No one leaves a basement that large empty. Especially a Bratva boss like Timur. The basement houses the torture chambers, as I always called them, along with a few spaces where spare weapons are stored in case of an attack. I never got to explore it all, but there’s more to it.
Mishka only took me down there twice, and that was at the summons of Timur. There had been a man hanging there—a thief, Timur said—who dared to take over a million dollars from him. Mishka was ordered to get information from him, and since I was the product of my father, I was to assist.
A pang strikes my chest, remembering the way Mishka tried to convince my father to leave me out. That it was possible I was pregnant, and he didn’t want me to overexert myself.
A lie, considering that after our wedding night, he never touched me again. We kept up appearances, but my young husband was not in love with me, and I wasn’t with him. Still, it was enough of a lie to have his father relent. To keep up appearances, I offered suggestions that Mishka used, and his father was pleased with the result when the man admitted he had taken the money and where he had stashed it.
His death wasn’t swift or merciful, but it was his own fault for thinking Timur would never find out. Even when Simeon eventually joined us, the worst of it was over, and Simeon hadbeen perfectly happy to stand to the side and let his brother do his dirty work.
A thought occurs to me. Wait, if anyone would know about that room, it’s Simeon. But can I trust him? Will he alert Timur?
My fingers drum on the table. Damn it, this entire situation is a fucking pain in the ass.
The door to the office swings open, and Ilya storms in. His gaze finds me almost immediately, and his expression darkens. Zakhar isn’t far behind him, his own expression much the same. Both of them stare at me, before Zakhar shuts and locks the door.
Does he really think that’s going to stop me if I want to get the hell out of here?
Instead of engaging, I say, “I found an anomaly with the blueprints you have. There’s a room that used to be a utility closet for the staff, but it was enlarged. I need to know what that room is now.”
“A utility closet?” Zakhar repeats, confused. “Why the fuck would that matter? The staff probably complained so they made it bigger.”
“You really think Timur enlarged a closet for his staff? And that’s why he sent it through to the city when doing renovations on the kitchens and dining areas? It’s all the way at the back of the house.” Do I need to spell it out for them?
They share a look, but neither of them looks convinced. I roll my eyes. “Simeon can tell me what it is. So do I go and speak to him in his room, or do one of you get someone to bring his ass down here?”
“All this over a closet?” Ilya gripes. But he nods at Zakhar who pulls out his phone. That done, he pins me with a hard stare. “My niece is off-limits.” It’s a warning and a threat.
I don’t rise to the bait. “And I told you that I don’t touch kids. Ever. I don’t kill them, I don’t hurt them, and I certainly don’tinvolve them in a war they are innocent of. You, however, have grown complacent, Romanov, and that’s something you’ll need to rectify as soon as possible.”
