Page 74 of Exacting Vengeance

“Of course not. My cousin helped me get that place for you. He lives on the same floor.” He paused, leaving Yuri wondering if Nikki had set him up there intentionally to keep an eye on him. “You shouldn’t let a good apartment go to waste. It is one of the very best, in a good neighborhood.”

“Right.” He sneered at the phone. “I won’t.”

“You see? I don’t forget about my friends. You should not, either. When you get your money back, I expect half. Remember, you brought Tarankov—that agent—into the Brotherhood. You should be thanking me for convincing Semyon not to have you shanked in prison for that.”

“I should be thanking you?” Yuri scoffed. “I spent ten years locked up. You did less than half that because I didn’t say anything about the things we did.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was still your fault.”

Yuri jammed the half-smoked cigarette into the dashboard, not caring if he set the entire Escalade on fire.

Tarankov had been introduced by someone who said he’d been introduced by someone else, and by someone before that. Only now did he realize what he should have seen all along— Tarankov had checked out at every level, but the trail back to whoever had initially vouched for him had been too many hands back to positively identify. That’s what they got for trusting a Russian without a single tattoo.

Nikki sighed heavily. “I want you at meetings starting tomorrow. That’s an order.” The call went dead.

“Shit.” He lit up another cigarette, taking a long drag as he watched the fed get back into his SUV. His plans would have to be delayed, but time was on his side.

The moment he’d seen Vika in that courtroom, he’d known exactly what to do. First, he’d rented a cheap room in Jersey City, closer to Vika and farther away from the Brotherhood’s prying eyes. He’d been paying by the week in cash with what little was left of his own funds. That didn’t mean he hadn’t missed a tail. He would have to be more careful. Nikki suspected he’d grab Vika, get his money, and run. Nikki wasn’t wrong.

Vika would still have the money. She’d be too afraid of him to spend it, and from what he’d seen inside her apartment, she had no expensive things. No designer clothes or handbags. Barely any jewelry. Compared to their life in Chicago, she lived like a pauper. It had been stupid to give her control of his money in the first place, but he’d needed to safeguard it from the FBI. He’d been counting on having total control over the bitch, never imagining she would leave him, let alone divorce him. Like Nikki, not once had she visited him in prison.

He curled his fingers around the wheel, watching smoke spiral from the cigarette.

Nikki and Vika had once been family. Soon Vika would be again. As for Nikki, their friendship had come to an end. His friend didn’t deserve half the money. It wasn’t his fault Nikki hadn’t been smart about hiding his half of their take from the kidnapping scam. Nikki had power but wasn’t big on brains. He, on the other hand, was.

With the feds outside, getting back into Vika’s apartment would be more difficult but not impossible. His life in a Russian Gulag had been brutal, facing starvation and harsh conditions even a polar bear would fear. Federal prisons were sissy country clubs, openly allowing prisoners to play games and build muscle in weight rooms. Unofficially, prisoners learned other skills. Like lock picking.

When he held the cigarette to his lips again, the burning orange tip glowed brighter.

The plan to get into the apartment building and get Vika out had just come to him. Soon he’d have everything.

His wife.

The money that should be all his.

Then he’d find a way to kill Kyle Gates.

Chapter Thirty

The buttery, flaky croissant called to Victoria from the plate on her desk, inviting her to eat more than the few small nibbles she’d taken over the last thirty minutes. All the food she used to enjoy, including her favorite breakfast indulgence of croissants and French roast coffee held no appeal. Boring, herbal tea was the only hot beverage that didn’t make her queasy. In her line of work, it wasn’t hard to diagnose why. She hadn’t seen or spoken directly with Kyle in two long, agonizing weeks. He was the only thing she could think about.

A new client file on her desk remained unread. She ought to give her regular clients their money back, because while she’d been physically present for their sessions her mind had been elsewhere, thinking about how much she missed Kyle’s smiles and his frowns, the tender way he looked at her, his gentle touch, and the passionate kisses that made her head spin and her body tingle. And the feel of his powerful body beneath her fingers while they made love.

Light rapping knocked her out of her pathetic traipse down memory lane. Tracee stood in the doorway. “There’s an FBI agent here to see you.” Victoria’s heart beat faster. “Not Kyle,” she added with an understanding expression. “Do you want to see him?”

She sighed. “I suppose.” In reality, she had no choice. Not if there was any chance of her staying out of prison.

As Tracee went back down the hall, she thought back over all that had happened in the last two weeks.

She’d met twice in person with AUSA Washington and Elizabeth Chang, who’d both peppered her with more questions about the ledger and the lake property outside Chicago. Not once had Kyle been there. Usually, either Jack or Deke had stood in for him at the U.S. Attorney’s Office. As much as she’d wanted to return to his self-defense class on Saturdays, seeing him again and knowing he’d never look at her the same way, would have been heartbreaking.

Brad stuck his head in her doorway. “Everything okay, Victoria?” Kind gray eyes that matched the color of his hair regarded her from behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Fine.” She gave him a bright yet false smile. Nothing was fine, not when her whole life was about to be turned upside down again.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Brad.”