Fuck… I’ve never had the impulse to feed a woman before. Or introduce her to people I consider family.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call and I answer through Bluetooth.
“I’m on the way,” I bark, assuming it’s my brothers calling to give me shit for being late. “Another ten minutes.”
“It’s Miron. I’m calling because I got the info you wanted about that server… Evelina Panova.”
I drum my finger on the steering wheel. “I’m listening.”
“Everything checks out on paper.”
“But?” I can hear the reservation in his tone.
“Her past is too… clean. Everyone has skeletons in the closet. An ex who shit-talks you online, leaked dirty selfies, hell, even a parking ticket. She’s got nothing.”
“Maybe she’s just careful, led a sheltered life.”
Miron doesn’t sound convinced. “In my experience when someone’s past is too clean, it’s usually a sign to dig deeper.”
A clean life? Is that a red flag? Maybe, maybe not. But I know better than to ignore Miron’s instincts.
“Fine. Keep digging.” I pause as another idea occurs to me. “Let’s do one better. Keep an eye on her. Not constant surveillance, but keep tabs on where she goes and who she meets. If there’s cause for concern, let me know.”
“You got it. And one more thing. I hacked into MTI’s student records. She’s enrolled in the cybersecurity engineering program, which is fucking impressive, but the results from her admissions test are what caught my attention. She got a perfect score. The notes in her file describe her as a tech prodigy.”
An odd sense of pride swells in my chest knowing the woman who’s gotten under my skin isn’t just beautiful, she’s brilliant.
I merge onto the freeway. “Good to know. You report directly to me about this. No one else needs to know.”
“Understood.”
I hang up as I pull into the back of our Red Hook warehouse. It is one of many we own around the city, used for storage of weapons, drugs, or whatever we need to move.
Tonight, it’s for a meeting between the mafia and the bratva, planning a way to kick the Ghost out of our city.
I step out of the Land Rover and head toward the warehouse entrance, shoving thoughts of Evelina Panova into the back of my mind where they belong.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
DINARA
My feet are screamingand my back aches, but I feel weirdly buzzed.
I did it. I got through my first shift with my own tables. Other than a few mishaps early on, like delivering drinks to the wrong tables twice and running someone’s credit card for three hundred dollars over their actual bill, the night went smoothly.
All I want right now is a hot shower and maybe some shitty reality TV to zone out to. I collapse onto the bench in front of my locker and peel off my heels with a groan.
It’s been two days since he drove me home and took me out for tacos, and I haven’t heard from him since.
I’ve thought about texting him, something casual to test the waters, but every time I pulled up his contact, I talked myself out of it. Better to play it cool. Let him come to me. That’s the tactical reason, but the real reason is messier: I want to text him, and I’m not sure if it’s because I need him for information or because I want to hear his voice.
The door to the change room swings open and Oksana breezes in, followed by Klara and Yeva. Rada trails after them,snapping her gum and staring at her phone like the rest of us don’t exist.
“You killed it tonight!” Klara announces, dropping onto the bench beside me. “That’s worth celebrating.”
“Is it?” I massage my arch, wincing. “I don’t know how you all do this night after night.”
