“Yeah. You know I don’t like asking for favours, but if anything happens to come up in conversation with your uncle…”
“I’m on it.” He turned to look at me, his brows pulled together. “That’s not all, is it? C’mon, tell me. You know I won’t say anything. Better to get it all out in the open. That’s what my uncle Neil always says. He doesn’t like subterfuge, and neither do I. Keeping secrets is what got my dad killed.”
I’d been about to give him a snappy reply, but at the mention of his dad, I sobered. Dan couldn’t remember him—he’d died when he was a toddler, but his death had involved secrets between him and another family that he hadn’t disclosed until it was too late to save him.
Instead, I decided to share the rest of my burden. I had nothing to lose, after all. When Dan talked about keeping secrets, he wasn’t referring to the things Ryker or I told him in confidence. He meant keeping secrets from people who had the power to turn the tides in your favour.
“It’s nothing, really. I hope. I was at the clinic to go through the accounts—my dad fucked up the filing again—and while I was there, my dad mentioned something about a police investigation into rural crime. He was worried they were gonna investigate him. Fuck, Dan, what do we do if they decide to show up at the clinic?”
“I really don’t like this,” Dan muttered. “I’ve heard…yeah. Nothing solid, but there have been some rumours I’ve picked up on too. People are on edge when it gets too close for comfort. I’ll see if I can find anything out. Has King said anything to you? He hasn’t said anything to me.”
I shook my head. “No. Nothing. Maybe he hasn’t heard anything.”
“Or maybe it’s just King.” Dan pulled a face at me, and my mouth twisted. Ryker played all his cards so close to his chest, it was almost impossible to get a read on him, and we were his closest friends.
“We could speak to Desmond,” Dan suggested, bringing up the name of Ryker’s dad’s right-hand man. Of all the senior members of the Thorpe Syndicate, he was the only one who might listen if we came to him with concerns.
Might.
It wasn’t a guarantee.
“Yeah… I guess it’s worth a try.”
Clapping me on the shoulder, Dan nodded. “It’s probably best if I bring it to Neil’s attention at the next meeting. If it comes from him, the Thorpes are more likely to take it seriously. Leave it with me.”
Back in the ballroom, we headed towards the far corner where several of our teammates were gathered. “Keep away from them,” Dan advised in a low voice, discreetly inclining his head towards a group of hard-faced men dressed in dark suits. Viktor, the Kozenki Bratva Pakhan himself, had made a rare appearance, along with his son Maksim. Standing with them, puffing on a cigar, was Viktor’s cousin Grigory. Grigory was Anton Volkov’s father and the Pakhan of the Volkov Syndicate, residing full-time in the compound alongside his half-brother Igor, who was his brigadier—his right-hand man.
I swallowed, glancing away quickly. Their reputations were legendary, and the last thing I wanted to do was attract unwanted attention. “Yeah. I was planning to stay under their radar.”
“Good. Just don’t…don’t look at her, okay?” He shot me a warning look, but I could see the concern in his eyes.
“I’ll stay away. In fact…I’m gonna get some fresh air. You know this place better than me. Is there anywhere I can go where I won’t be disturbed?”
Dan shrugged. “There’s a maze. Don’t get lost. Or do, if you wanna be alone.”
Of course there was a fucking maze. I couldn’t help wondering if the Volkovs ever used it for more nefarious purposes. But right now, I needed air, and I needed space, and I couldn’t risk even a glance in Nova’s direction. Not when Volkov had been able to read me so easily. Who knew what he might have said to his family or associates?
A thought hit me, and my breath caught in my throat. Fuck. What if hehadsaid something, and that was why the Volkovs had been sniffing around my family’s business?
No. I couldn’t think like that. What would be the purpose? Subterfuge wasn’t their style. They preferred direct, explicit threats. If Volkov had said anything, I wouldn’t even be here.
Unless they were lulling me into a false sense of security…
I scrubbed my palm over my face, exhaling harshly. My paranoia was getting out of hand. With a nod to Dan, I strode towards the doors, this time heading to the left, in the direction of the maze. Before I stepped outside, I swiped a glass of champagne from one of the servers, hoping it would make me look less like I was running away and more like a party guest getting some fresh air. Deliberately slowing mypace to a casual stroll as I hit the terrace, I fell in behind a small group of guests who were talking shit about some socialite and a minor royal. The security staff milling around paid me no attention, and I relaxed as I drew farther away from the mansion. The group peeled away, heading for a circular bandstand ahead of the maze entrance, and I slipped into the shadows, entering the maze.
The path was lit by strings of muted lights, illuminating the towering hedges on either side of me. I picked a direction at random, making my way deeper into the maze.
By the time I reached the centre, with an ornamental fountain and stone benches, and yet more strings of lights twined overhead, my champagne was finished, and my mind was even more of a twisted fucking mess. I lowered myself to one of the benches, placing my glass on the gravel beneath the bench, and dropped my head into my hands with a groan.
It was all so much. Stressing about my family business, my best friend fighting me because I’d spent time with his rival, Anton Volkov “letting” me dance with his fiancée in a power play move designed to fucking gut me with the knowledge of everything I’d never have.
Nova.
I swore softly under my breath as memories assaulted me. How her body had felt beneath my hands. The way she looked at me with those huge eyes. Her lips on mine. This magnetic pull to her, something I’d denied over and over and had never even imagined might be reciprocated.
“Jay?”
Fucking hell, my head was more messed up than I’d realised. I was hearing her voice in my head.
