Chapter 19
S asha’s black cat glares at me with piercing golden eyes from atop his desk while he taps away on the iPad.
“Berenice doesn’t like you.” Sasha grins when the damn thing hisses at me.
“You named your cat Berenice?” I stand my ground, staring right back at the evil creature.
I’ve been locked in a cellar with no food or water for days. I’ve been beaten to within an inch of my life and lived to kill the bastard who dared touch me. This little feline isn’t going to scare me.
Sasha cocks a brow, looking up over the top of the pad. “An old woman gave her to me when she was a kitten, so I used her name.”
“An old woman named Berenice gave you the cat, so you named the cat Berenice?” I’ve known this man for ten years, and I’m still finding things out about him.
“It made her happy.” He waves a hand. “Now do you want me to get into this stupid iPad, or would you like to talk more about my cat?”
“The iPad, Sasha.” I gesture to the device propped up in front of him. “Is it giving you trouble?”
He grunts and continues working his magic. No one can break into a device as quickly as Sasha, but even he is having trouble with this one. He hooks it up to a laptop and starts working from the computer.
After muttering several more strings of curses in Russian, he sits back with a triumphant grin. “I’m in!”
“I didn’t think it would take you so long,” I reach across the desk to grab the iPad, only to have Berenice hiss again and swipe her claw at me, scratching my forearm.
With a curse of my own, I pull back. Pinhead beads of blood appear where the damn thing clawed me.
Sasha laughs. “Berenice protects me.”
“Protects you?” I grit my teeth and glare at the cat, who looks more pleased than frightened.
“Don’t just take things.” He corrects me with a mocking old mother look. “Let me reset the passwords before you take it.”
“That iPad is becoming more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Hmm, you might not think so once you see what’s here.” He leans back in his chair and waves me over. “Someone’s been hiding a lot of fucking money.”
Sasha pulls up a spreadsheet.
“Sebastian suspected at least a quarter of a million was missing.” I lean closer to the screen as Sasha scrolls to the total column.
He lets out a low whistle. “That’s a hell of a lot more than two hundred and fifty thousand.”
“Seventy-five million dollars?” My throat dries.
“He’s been stashing money from more than just Sebastian. That total is from all the gambling rings he’s infiltrated. Isn’t that Kaz?” He points to a single line item totaling ten grand.
It’s the smallest amount on his listing, but even a penny stolen from the Volkovs is enough guarantee a man loses his life.
“This guy stole from the Volkovs?”
“Well, good news is, this prick was stupid enough not only to keep a detailed accounting of everything he stole, but he’s also been good enough to leave all of his banking information on here.” He taps on the screen a few times and a bank portal opens up.
“There’s five different accounts.”
“And with all the interest he’s been earning, he’s got himself a nice retirement account.” Sasha shakes his head. “Or he would have had, if you hadn’t shot him in the head.”
“You think he wouldn’t be dead now if I hadn’t? Sebastian wanted his money back and a hand to send a message, but if he saw this, he’d want his fucking head. ”
“But Sebastian is dead.” Sasha turns in his chair.
“Yeah. He is.” I stand, rolling my shoulders back.
It’s been four days since that bullet grazed me. The stitches have lost their welcome, making their presence known with every move I make with the tightness. I need to remove them tonight.
Or maybe Mira and I can play doctor again.
The idea alone has my cock waking up in my jeans. The woman has been a complete distraction these past few days. When she’s not wandering around getting into everything in the penthouse, she’s pestering me about going out.
She’s burning up with cabin fever. When I left this morning, she demanded I bring her with me, and when I denied her, she stormed up the stairs like a little brat who wasn’t getting her way.
I think she needs more time over my knee.
Something I can rectify when I get home tonight.
“No idea who killed him?” Sasha questions.
I shake my head. “No. But that’s not my problem. Let his sons sort that out.”
Sebastian Gallo sits at the head of a gambling syndicate. He provides cover for underground games so long as a portion of the profits hits his wallet. No one runs anything without his permission and blessing.
No one except the Volkovs. They were in this city long before Sebastian showed up. Out of respect, they keep their gambling ring inside their club, and they give free membership to Sebastian and his three sons.
“You’re not interested?” Sasha lifts his eyebrows. “The guy who hired you for a job ends up dead before you can deliver, and you’re not concerned? What if whatever got him killed comes looking for you?”
“I’m not worried. I’ll let Kaz know about the ten grand. If he wants to pursue it, he can.”
“What about reaching out to his sons? See if they want the intel?” Sasha suggests.
“There’s barely half a brain between all three of them. Sebastain kept them out of his business on purpose.”
“Could be useful to someone. Probably worth good money.”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this mess.
If someone comes looking for information I can sell, fine, but I’m not advertising.
Sebastian hired me to find Enzo, I found him, got the information he wanted.
My job’s done.” Cash for intel, that’s all the job entailed.
I have more important matters at hand to focus on.
“Hmm, just like finding and bringing home the girl was the job? Because you seem to have taken on some extra responsibilities there.” Sasha pushes out of his chair and heads to the coffee pot in his kitchen.
Berenice jumps off the desk and follows him, her tail and chin held high as she prances after him.
“That’s different.” I take over his seat.
“I’m sure it is.” He shakes his head.
“What?” I demand, when he’s done pouring his coffee and leans back against his counter.
Sasha’s fees are exorbitant and worth every fucking penny. But he never spends his money on things like an apartment with interior walls. He likes this tiny studio apartment he lives in. It’s a shit place filled with the top technology money can buy.
He makes no sense.
“Nothing.” He lifts a shoulder. “But you know marriage is going to make your job harder.”
“How?”
“You think a wife is going to be okay with you going missing for weeks at a time while you’re out hunting?”
“Mira handles herself fine.” As though she can hear me talking about her, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Sasha watches me as I check the message. “The chain already tugging on your ankle?”
I shoot him a look that should make his skin melt off his bones, but he just grins.
“No. There’s a fire at the east side storage facility.”
He arches his brow at me.
“Alexander has the bottom floor of the building.”
“This war with the DeAngelos is going to cost you,” he warns.
“It will.” I nod. “I should get over there. You’re done with this?” I unhook the iPad from the laptop.
“Yeah.”
Tucking the iPad under my arm, I grab my leather jacket from the back of a chair and head to the door.
As I step out into the hallway, my phone goes off again. An alert this time.
Mira .
Opening up the tracking app, I find her icon. My teeth clench.
Another text comes through about the warehouse. The police are arriving, and they need to be dealt with.
I step into the elevator, my nerves on edge, my muscles tense.
I’m a man standing at a fork in the road.