33. Igor
33
IGOR
“ I ’ve never been inside The Velvet Echo,” Ivan says with a hint of excitement. “Nik doesn’t let us mix with the Olenkos.”
“No surprise there,” I mutter. “The owner’s a snake.”
Konstantin doesn’t bother looking for a parking spot and instead stops in front of the club. It’s the middle of the day, not a lot of traffic passing through this seedy neighborhood.
Having Ivan around—Nikolai’s right-hand man and bodyguard—still feels off. Over the years, the man has had plenty of chances to perfect the art of tailing and trailing, so there’s no questioning his utility. That doesn’t make it easier, though. Nor does it assuage my irritation with his presence.
I’ve never had a babysitter, especially not a Volkov-affiliated one. Having no other options, I grit my teeth and paste on a stoic expression. Shoving the car door open, I climb out and walk a few steps to the club, Ivan not far behind. I need to push my aversion aside and be civil to the hulking, yet polite, bodyguard. After all, the faster we work together, the quicker the job is finished, and the sooner he can leave me and my family alone.
“Konstantin, do a quick sweep around the perimeter,” I instruct. “Ivan and I are going in.”
My second in command gives a curt nod and immediately obeys. He’ll be the eyes and ears while I focus on the leads.
“Follow,” I say to Ivan, vowing to try harder not to be an asshole.
He puts his hands behind his back and obediently keeps his pace even with mine. He doesn’t protest or utter a single word. In fact, he doesn’t do much other than stay five feet behind, just like a regular shadow. Not long ago, he was part of the enemy camp, and yet here we are, working together.
Fate’s a funny little thing.
“Boris isn’t here,” the familiar security guard informs me. He was here the last time I came. I take in the plain black clothes that cover the standard guard’s beefy frame and check his name tag.
“Raffe.” I take a stack of cash from the inner pocket of my suit. “Just about any Olenko will do. Who’s here? Someone has to be manning the club.”
The corner of his lips quirks up as he counts the cash, apparently finding the amount acceptable. “I don’t know about manning, but there’s definitely some serious womaning going on.”
Ivan snorts.
“What?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
“Miss Galina is here,” Raffe explains, glancing at both of us. “Boris‘s daughter.”
“I know who she is,” I mutter. “Fuck.”
“Should I get her or...?”
“Yes,” Ivan confirms at the same time I say, “No.”
We both pause, a sigh leaving my lips.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “With all of this going on, I’m a little distracted. I’ll talk with whoever’s in charge.”
Raffe smirks. “I’ll see if Miss Galina wants to meet with you. Wait here.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
Raffe marches down the hallway. Through the loudspeakers, dance music plays at full volume, the bumping rhythm pounding against the floor and through the walls, making even my heart beat in sync. On the stage, half-naked dancers slide up and down the poles. Only a few patrons and dealers loitering around the space. It must be the lunch crowd, just small enough to have enough room to move and fast enough to make money.
Ivan’s as quiet as the grave. With a steel glint in his eyes, he surveys the space, undoubtedly waiting for someone to so much as look at me the wrong way. God, if only that simple act could solve all the problems, but unfortunately, as it is, life isn’t that simple.
In front of us, a pair of double doors opens, Raffe’s head poking out.
“She has time for you now,” he says dryly. “Come with me.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Whatever happens, keep your mouth shut,” I say to Ivan. “I’m serious.”
“I’m here to have your back and report to Nik,” he snaps. “I don’t need a lecture from you.”
“Right,” I mutter.
Following Raffe, I pass the empty bar and take a glance at the seats scattered around. There must be around thirty men and women wandering around the different areas and nooks.
One of the dancers on the stage recognizes me and blows me a kiss. My only reaction is to roll my eyes and turn away. To take my attention from the distracting sight, I inhale, the scent of sex and alcohol suffocating the air.
Raffe knocks on Olenko’s office door and leads us inside. With his gaze aimed at the ground, he crosses the floor and then steps aside to reveal Galina’s familiar, beautiful face.
Her auburn curls tumble down her shoulders in perfectly tousled waves, and her hazel eyes gleam with a mix of curiosity and mischief. She’s dressed sharply today—tight black slacks and a silk blouse the color of deep burgundy—but there’s an edge to her that no amount of elegance can hide.
She stands behind the desk and gives me a once-over. A smile pulls up her lips.
“Thank you, Raffe.” She turns her attention to the security guard, tucking a curl behind her ear. “That will be all for now.”
“Yes, Miss Galina,” Raffe mutters, then backs out the door.
Once he’s gone, I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Nerves start to build in my chest, thinking about the uncomfortable interaction we’re about to have.
“Konstantin’s scouting around outside,” I tell her. “I wanted to talk to your father, but since he’s not here, I’d appreciate it if you could help me.”
A fire sparkles in her hazel eyes, bringing color to her cheeks. For a second, she studies me, and the way her glare slices to Ivan reveals her dislike at him being here.
“Who is he?” she asks, her voice tense. “I don’t like an audience.”
“Ivan Kuznetsov,” Ivan introduces himself, the bastard ignoring my orders. He crosses the distance between him and Galina, takes her hand, and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure.”
“Mm.” Galina smirks, her lips curving into a heated smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a threesome.”
I choke on my tongue, coughing violently. Galina does whatever she pleases, and unfortunately, what she wants most is a chance with me. I’ve seen for myself how little restraint she has.
But Ivan’s lips curl up in a devilish grin. Oh, well. Great. These two will pair off perfectly.
“I’m not good at sharing,” he says evenly. “A threesome might not happen. But if you’re interested in a more intimate setting, I’d be game any day of the week.”
She laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her slim neck. Ivan watches her intently, his eyes roaming over her body and landing on the soft swell of her breasts.
“Maybe another time,” she mumbles, then leans over and presses her palms against the surface of the table, glancing at me. “So, what can I do for you then, Igor?”
I open my mouth to get down to business when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and read the caller ID—Aleks.
“Go ahead, pick it up.” Galina waves a dismissive hand. “I’m sure your boy toy can entertain me.”
Ivan shifts, straightening his posture. For a second, it’s as if the wolf emerges from the depths of his soul, his brown eyes shining with hunger and anticipation. They latch onto hers, his upper lip turning up in a feral smirk, revealing a row of perfect white teeth.
Ignoring their eye-fucking, I step just outside the door and answer the phone. “Yes?”
“We got something,” Aleks says as a way of greeting.
“Talk,” I order, my patience wearing thin.
Aleks doesn’t need to be asked twice. “You need to see this,” he says urgently. “We found something in your bedroom—a brick with a strange symbol on it. It was by the bed, near where the fireworks hit. Katya says she saw a tattoo of the symbol on her attacker.”
“Send me a picture,” I tell him.
Not even two minutes later, I return to the office to find Ivan standing too close to Galina.
Her giggle fills the room as she tips her chin up, giving him a playful smile.
“Jesus.” I roll my eyes and open the photo that Aleks sent. “Enough of the bullshit. Come look.”
Galina sighs. Ivan laughs and leans down, his palm sliding to cup her neck gently, tilting her face toward his as if giving her a promise.
“Keep control of yourself, Kuznetsov,” I chastise, more irritated than concerned. “Remember why we’re here.”
As if something in Ivan shifts, he changes his demeanor, clears his throat, and steps away from Galina. His face is a mask once again, only a hint of an apologetic smile left. Meanwhile, Galina merely adjusts her blouse and turns, sauntering over to me. Her black heels tap against the ground.
Her lips curl into a satisfied smile as she peers down at the phone in my hand. But her playful demeanor vanishes as she sees the image.
“Do you recognize the symbol?”
“Never seen it before,” she says, but something flickers in her eyes. Her hand inches toward her desk phone.
Ivan moves faster than I expect for a man his size. In one fluid motion, he disconnects the phone line. “Try again, gorgeous,” he says quietly.
“There are guards right outside—” she starts.
“Who won’t hear a thing,” I cut her off. “Now, about that symbol.”
She swallows hard, glancing between us. “You don’t understand. If I tell you?—”
“If you don’t tell us,” I lean forward, “things will get very uncomfortable.”
Her shoulders slump. “It’s Maksim’s,” she whispers. “My brother’s.”
My blood runs cold. Maksim’s involvement could mean anything—he could be behind this, be working for someone, or someone could be using his symbol to frame him. But one thing’s certain—he’s connected to what happened to Katya, and I’m going to find out exactly how.
“Where’s your brother?” I force through gritted teeth.
Galina’s body goes limp, and her eyelids flutter a few times. “He left a few hours ago. He seemed in a hurry.”
“Do you know where he went?”
Ivan tugs his phone out and steps out of the office, no doubt to update Nikolai. Meanwhile, I have one hand on Galina’s desk, grasping the edge until my knuckles are white. If I were alone, I’d slam my fist against it, maybe knock over a few objects and kick a few things.
My breathing accelerates. The anger rushes through me like a high tide, threatening to wash everything away.
“No,” Galina says slowly, her hesitant stare roving over my tense body. “What is going on? Did my brother fuck your girlfriend or something?”
“Or something,” I mutter and force myself to put some distance between us.
Maksim’s actions aren’t Galina’s fault. I shouldn’t throw my fury at her. When I take a deep breath, my resolve returns.
“Will you call me if you hear from him?” I ask.
“I will,” she promises.
“Thanks, Galina,” I say with a forced smile and a wink. “I knew I could count on you, sweetheart.”
Flustered, she blushes and graces me with an answering smile.
Before I can lose control over myself, I leave the office. Still on the phone, Ivan follows me back to the car.
“Everything okay, Shef ?” Konstantin asks as soon as I climb into the back seat.
“Change of plans,” I reply. “Take me home. Now.”
He needs no extra encouragement. The engine hums to life, and we turn the corner sharply and make a run for it.
The attacker, thief, asshole, has a name now—Maksim. He’s not a shadow anymore. It’s only a matter of time before we find him. But until then, I have to make sure my family’s safe.