"Then why am I here?" she whispers harshly.
"Becauseyouare not a distraction," Lev says. "You are the first woman he has ever brought into the heart of the operation. That makes you significant."
She blinks, stunned by the admission, as a soft flush rises on her cheeks. She isn’t scowling, like one would expect.
A dark, irrational spike of anger hits me in the gut.
Why is she blushing at him?
She looks at me with hatred, but she stands there whispering with my Lieutenant like they’re old friends? I don't like the distance between them. It’s too small.
I slam the final key on the pad.
I stride back toward them, my boots hitting the concrete hard to shatter their shared moment. I want her attention back on me, even if it’s angry.
"Lev," I bark, sharper than necessary. "Stop gossiping. We are on a schedule."
Helena jumps, guilt flashing across her face. Lev straightens his expression into a mask of stone, stepping away from her.
"Boss," he nods respectfully as I approach.
"Lev."
I stop, glancing at Helena. She’s twenty feet away now, facing the water, out of earshot.
I lean in close to my second-in-command, dropping my voice to business.
"Report," I command. "What is the chatter from Moscow?"
His face tightens. He glances at Helena's back, then returns his gaze to me.
"The High Council called this morning," he murmurs. "They are impatient, Konstantin. They see the Atlantic Loop moving, but they don't see the consolidation of power."
I clench my jaw. The High Council. The seven old men who rule the Bratva, holding the seat that belongs to me—the seat of thePakhan. The seat my father sat in before Arthur Blackwood had him killed.
"They are questioning your control," he continues. "They say a man who cannot control his own merger cannot lead the Bratva, and they are asking about the voting shares."
"Explain," I say, though I already know.
"Arthur Blackwood still owns fifty-one percent of the company," he recites, his voice low. "He’s the majority shareholder. Legally, he can still outvote us."
"And if he dies tomorrow?" I ask.
"If he dies, or if a judge declares him mentally incompetent, that fifty-one percent transfers directly to his next of kin. To Helena."
I look at her. The wind whips her hair across her face. She’s so small against the massive cranes.
If Arthur dies today, she becomes the majority owner of Blackwood Logistics instantly. She would have the power to fire me, block my shipments, or sell the company to the Feds. She would be untouchable.
"I can’t let that happen," I say coldly. "I cannot let the daughter of my enemy hold the keys to my kingdom."
I think of the document sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk in the penthouse. The marriage license I had my lawyers draft weeks ago, waiting only for a date and a signature.
"The marriage license," I tell Lev. "Is it still in my desk?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Good. I’m moving the timeline up."
