And the only thing I cling to is hope that Kirill is there. That somehow he’ll find me before it’s too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KIRILL
It’spast midnight when Aleksei calls, just as I’m turning off the light in Lev’s room.
He finally fell asleep after another nightmare. I wish he would tell me what he sees in his head when he wakes up shaking, eyes wide and searching for something that isn’t there. I know he remembers. I see it in the way he clings to me after. But he won’t say a word, like he’s afraid that saying it out loud will make it real again.
My phone lights up, Aleksei’s name across the screen. He never calls this late unless something’s wrong.
“Da?” I answer quietly, stepping into the hallway and pulling the door almost closed behind me so I don’t wake my son.
“I suggest you come to the club tonight. Let’s just say it’s urgent.”
“How urgent? I don’t want to leave Lev unless I have to.”
“Well, let’s just say…” He snickers. “If you don’t come, you’re going to regret it.”
The line goes dead before I can get another word in.
I stare at the screen, trying to decide if my brother is playing games or actually warning me. But with him, it’s usually both.
“Pizdets,” I mutter, already knowing I have to go.
Downstairs, Katya, the head housekeeper, is doing one last pass over the furniture, wiping everything down before turning in for the night.
“Katya,” I call.
She looks up, smoothing her hands over her apron. “Yes, sir?”
“I need to step out. Lev is asleep, but keep his monitor with you. If he wakes up, you call me. I won’t be gone long.”
“Of course.” She nods without hesitation.
I pause, listening for any sound from upstairs, for anything, while that familiar guilt needles at me for leaving him at night. But Lev is safe here. I know he is.
I snag the keys to the red Ferrari from the hook by the door and head out.
The drive to the warehouse isn’t far, especially with the way I drive, and this one is closer than the other locations we use to host the club. Rzvrt moves spots often. Old factories. Buildings we own. We have many properties at our disposal.
When I pull up, I don’t waste time. I slip on the plain black mask I keep in the car and head straight for Igor, the one checking masks at the entrance. He gives me a quick nod the second he sees me.
I step into the elevator and ride up to the top floor, cutting past the flow of people filing into the club. At the end of the hall, I head for the first door and let myself into the office.
Aleksei is there, seated in front of a bank of monitors. Security feeds cover the wall, every angle of the club under our control. The dance floor. The hallways. The private rooms. The staging area for the auctions.
“What the hell did you need me for?” I shut the door behind me.
He doesn’t look up right away, just flicks a few keys on the keyboard in front of him, switching camera angles and pulling up another window.
“I missed you too,” he says dryly.
“Aleksei.” My patience is already gone. “I left Lev at home for this. You know how much I hate doing that. So talk.”
He exhales like I’m the problem, then clicks once and drags something onto the center monitor until it fills the screen. “Okay. Here. Take a look.”
An application form stares back at me, Rzvrt’s logo at the top. Below it, blocks of text and filled-in fields.
