15. Lev
People are such predictable creatures. And my skillset of recognizing these predictabilities has served me well in corporate warfare, not to mention as pakhan. It’s easier to protect yourself when you can see the attack coming.
Take Wilson, for instance: I knew it would only be a matter of time before he would sneak back into town. He has too much here to leave behind for good.
And I was right. He crawled out of the hole he was hiding in and was spotted by one of my men at a diner in West Town earlier today. I knew he would try contacting Brooke tonight under the protection of darkness, so I flew back to Chicago and personally took over for the men watching her apartment. I wanted to be there when the mudak played his next card.
From the black Escalade parked down the street, I watched the feed sent to my phone courtesy of the concealed cameras I had one of my men install in and around her apartment while we were in New York fucking wildly until the early hours of the morning.
It was on this camera feed that I saw Wilson slip into the apartment tonight. Saw him creep toward her bedroom and stare at her sleeping in her bed for a concerning couple of minutes. My hand curled into a tight fist as I watched him watching her, waiting for him to give me another reason to put a bullet in his head. But he didn’t try anything with her. Instead, he closed her door, walked away, and began to tear apart the packed boxes of Brooke’s belongings in the living room.
The plan was to wait for him to leave the apartment before I apprehended him. But when I saw him tower over her and shove her up against the wall, I didn’t hesitate.
Now I have my gun aimed at him, and I have half a mind to cut both his hands off before I put the bullet in his head for putting his hands on Brooke. But as appealing as that idea is, I can’t very well do it in front of her. It will be too much for her.
Which makes this Wilson’s lucky day. He gets what no one else who has crossed me ever gets: a second chance.
“Let me tell you how this is going to play out,” I say. “You are going to retrieve the flash drive, and to ensure you do, I’m taking Brooke with me.”
Brooke’s big eyes widen, and she reminds me of the snow rabbits that dot the winter landscape of my family’s estate back in Russia. Big brown eyes. Sweet face. Innocent but astute.
She fixes those big eyes on me. “Excuse me?”
“Your fiancé has a week to get me the flash drive, and for insurance purposes, I’ll be keeping you with me.”
Her mouth opens with disbelief, and she slams her hands onto her hips.
“Let’s get a couple of things straight, asshole. First, Wilson is most definitely not my fiancé. He’s my ex-fiancé. EX.” She glares at me. “Secondly, you don’t get to keep people. Especially not me. You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”
“Fine.” I lift my arm and aim my gun at Wilson’s forehead. “Have it your way.”
Wilson shrinks back. “Please, don’t shoot me.”
While Brooke—who was so adamant just a few seconds ago—has a quick change in attitude.
“Wait!” she cries. “Don’t hurt him.”
“There are two options here, zayka. You either come with me and your fiancé… sorry, your ex-fiancé… gets to keep his brain intact. Or you say no to me again, and I paint the walls with his gray matter. And let me add a caveat here: the second option will also see you coming with me because I don’t leave behind witnesses.”
She glares at me like she’s willing me to spontaneously combust.
“Why not just kill me too?” she asks. Which, I have to admit, surprises me. Most people don’t dare question me at the best of times, let alone when I have a gun aimed at someone.
“My advice to you is to not question my generosity. The night is still early.”
Her eyes send a thousand daggers my way. She’s not afraid of me. Interesting.
“So what’s it going to be?” I ask.
The seconds tick by slowly. She looks at Wilson, who is quivering in his boots, then back to me with a look of utter confusion on her face. She’s backed into a corner, and she doesn’t know what to do.
I lift my brow. “Well?”
“Fine,” she snaps. “I’ll do it. But only if you promise you won’t hurt either of us.”
I’m not one for reassuring anyone in these kinds of scenarios, but I find myself reassuring her now. “If he gets me my flash drive in the next week, then the both of you will remain unharmed.”
She sends Wilson a pleading look. Please don’t let me down.
But I know men like Wilson. He’d let down the entire world if it saved him a moment of discomfort. I don’t expect him to hold up his end of the bargain because he’s predictably a letdown.
Then why am I doing this when I know the inevitable outcome?
Because as much as I want to deny it to myself, I’m not done with Brooke yet, and I want to explore what that means.
I lower my gun. “So we have a deal?”
Her shoulders soften, and she nods, defeated.
Good.
Then, turning away from the both of us, she runs to the bathroom to vomit.