I take another sip of the vodka, considering.Is that what my instincts were trying to tell me yesterday, when we met?That there was something off about her presence here. After all, Vinski has already shown himself willing to try and get into my warehouses. Why wouldn’t he try to go after my home, too?
“What did you tell her?”
“That she should think very carefully about whatever choice she made,” she replies. “Because you might view it a certain way.”
I nod. A fair response. My mind races as I put all the pieces together, how this might all fit. Because, if she really was here, sent by Vinski, then she might have had the call to pull out as soon as Ivan was busted. Which would explain why she had seemed to go from totally invested to searching for a way out the first chance she could get.
And maybe she’s not entirely wrong to. Shit, I know all too well what can happen when this world of mine comes to take what itis owed, and the last thing I want is for her to be caught up in it too. When this place isn’t locked down, there is always a chance that someone could see the vulnerabilities on display here and do what they can to make us pay for them.
I can still remember, with a stark clarity, the day my father came home from that dinner with my mother, the look on his face, the spatters of blood on his shirt...
“You think she might be working for someone other than me?” I ask Marsha. She pauses for a moment, considering her answer carefully. Another trait in her I admire; she never speaks without thinking, making sure to give an answer that’s as true as she can make it.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “But there is something she’s hiding, I’m sure of that. I could see it in the way she spoke to me. As if there were something she didn’t want me to find out.”
I nod. “I got the same feeling from her when we met,” I mutter. “Thought I was just being paranoid, but...”
“You should know by now to trust your instincts, Pakhan.”
I smirk. “You’re right,” I agree. And, glancing to the door, I realize that Cara could be with Maxim right now—could be taking care of him even as I sat there, completely oblivious to whatever she was doing with my child.
What if she was taking pictures, sending them off to someone, showing them exactly who they should target if they could get close enough to the house to take a swing? Yeah, that’snotthe kind of shit I’m going to risk, not after what just happened at the warehouse.
I throw back the last of my vodka and rise to my feet, striding towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To deal with this,” I reply, without looking back. I need to talk to Cara, right this fucking second, if I’m going to believe a word that comes out of her mouth. I don’t know if I can trust her, but, one way or another, I’m going to find out.
I catch sight of myself in the glass of my office door and see that I’m still spattered with blood. My fist is still aching, my knuckles grazed from where I landed those blows on him. I should go and clean up before I speak to her, but time feels like it is of the essence right now. And I’m not going to let her spend a second alone with my son without finding out what her deal is.
I head straight to her quarters, the guards opening the doors wordlessly for me, and head to the kitchen. She’s there by herself, and she jolts when she sees me.
“Alexei?” she gasps, as she looks me up and down, taking in the blood on my shirt, sleeves still rolled up. “What’s… is everything okay?”
“Where are the kids?”
“Next door,” she replies, her voice trembling. “They’re watching some TV with their lunch?—”
I take her arm and steer her towards the bedroom, so we can talk somewhere we won’t be disturbed. She’s too shocked to pull away from me, or maybe she’s just terrified knowing that I’ve finally caught on to her.
“What’s going on?” she finally asks, as I pull the door closed behind me.
“I just spoke to Marsha,” I tell her, releasing her arm as I glare down at her. “And she tells me that you were planning on leaving us already.”
Her face pales. “I–I told Marsha, my grandmother had a fall...”
“And she thinks you were lying,” I reply. “And I trust her instincts on this, so, you want to tell me what the real reason is you want to get out of here so quickly?”
She stares at me for a moment, and I can almost see her heart pounding against her ribs, the terror written in every inch of her face. She’s shaking as she stands there in front of me, her entire body seized with discomfort, but I’m not going to let up until I get a fucking answer.
“Come on, Cara,” I growl. “Do what’s best and tell me the truth.”
“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorts, suddenly looking up at me and narrowing her eyes as she remembers her attitude. “If I want to leave, I should be allowed to leave. You can’t keep me locked up here like some kind of prisoner?—”
“And I’ve no intention of doing that,” I reply calmly. “But you have to understand, I just found out one of my businesses was infiltrated by people who wanted to get in and get out. People who wanted to get into my space, take pictures, and get out so they could sell them off to the highest bidder.”
I take another step towards her, and she leans back against the door, her eyes wide.
