It does seem that this American tutor has turned out to be more than just a simple tourist looking for an easy way to make money while living abroad. She’s certainly gotten herself involved in a situation far outside her pay-grade.
I flick the cigarette ash away, watching the ember bounce once on the pavement before dying.
“Keep them in the lounge. I’ll make the call to Sergei.”
“Be prepared for backlash,” Katya says from somewhere in the background.
I toss my cigarette and snuff it out under my heel. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Sergei is a useful man. Brilliant with tech, well-connected, and one of the only civilians I’ve trusted to keep their head downand their loyalty steady while this shit with the Bratva has been brewing.
But this? It puts a crack in everything.
His daughter is his one soft spot. She’s not just a bargaining chip. She’s the only thing left of his late wife, and he guards her like a dragon does gold. He will not take this lightly.
And the tutor…
I’d written her off after our first encounter. Pretty little thing with wide eyes and a curious nature, sure, but a hired hand. Nothing more. A misplaced American who had been most likely looking to escape her own failures back home. Completely and utterly harmless.
Now she’s been dragged into this ongoing situation which means I can’t let her out of my sight until I know she won’t talk. I don’t need the American embassy looking and digging into things that are better left kept in the dark.
Lev is watching me with that unreadable stare of his, hands tucked in his coat pockets. He waits patiently for me to gather myself. After ending the call and shoving my phone back into my pocket, a long sigh escapes me.
“Change of plans,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my face. “We’re heading back to the compound. Sergei’s daughter was caught in the crossfire of a drive-by.”
Both of Lev’s brows lift in a rare display of genuine surprise. “How the hell did that happen?”
“She and the tutor were apparently at the same cafe Roman and Katya visited to talk to the owner who had been dealing tothe Petrovs. It was shot up by someone looking to take out the owner.”
Lev lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well, fuck. Another dead end.”
I merely sigh in response and turned to rip the passenger side door open. I don’t answer him. There’s nothing to say that isn’t already written across my face.
We climb back into the car, and the city starts rushing past us in a blur of tail lights and sleek buildings. I lean against the window, watching it all go by, but none of it sticks to memory. I’m not seeing the city. I’m seeing Yulia’s face, pale, wide-eyed, and frightened while her tutor crouches over her, shielding her from gunfire with her own body.
Roman had said Ivy reacted fast, on instinct. I doubt she’s ever seen a gun that up close before despite growing up in America. She didn’t strike me as the type when we first met, let alone had one fired in her direction. And yet she threw herself over that little girl like a goddamn shield anyway.
It’s admirable.
And also a problem.
Sergei is going to lose his fucking mind.
When we formed this partnership nearly two years ago, he made one thing very clear. Yulia was completely off-limits. She would be kept safe at all cost and she would remain untouched by the shadows her father operated within.
I agreed to that because I knew what was at stake.
Not just his daughter, but the empire Sergei helped fund with legitimate money, millions in Bratva-backed real estate development, tech expansion, and clean capital snaking across half of Europe. Money I need. Money that keeps the old guard off my back when they grumble about my modernization tactics.
This particular child comes with strings I can’t afford to sever, but it seems the universe is determined to do so anyway.
This situation with the Petrovs is spiraling faster than I can keep up with it.
By the time we pull into the compound, I’m already dreading the inevitable call.
The steel gates grind closed behind us with a metallic groan, sealing the compound shut like a fortress, swallowing us whole. Lev parks in front of the mansion’s main doors and we climb out.
“Call Sergei. Give him the basics. Don’t embellish or downplay anything. Just facts. I’ll handle the rest. I just need to check on the girl and the tutor first before I speak with him,” I say as we part.
