Chapter 48 Stefan
STEFAN
I’m still sitting in my office, staring at the dregs of my scotch long after Taras has left, when there’s a knock at the door.
“What is it?” I ask without looking up.
Arkady clears his throat as he shuffles on the threshold. “It’s Iakov, sir.”
That gets my attention. I set down the glass and lean back in my chair. “What about him?”
“He’s been meeting with FBI agents. Multiple times over the past two weeks.” Arkady approaches and slides a folder across my desk. “We got photos, just to be sure.”
I flip it open. Sure enough, there’s Iakov sitting across from men in cheap suits with federal haircuts. The images are grainy but clear enough to see they’re deep in conversation.
I close the folder and toss it back on the desk. “Doesn’t matter. Let them dig. They won’t find anything.”
“You’re sure?”
“We’ve already moved everything offshore. Buried it under layers of shell companies and legitimate investments. Even if they freeze my accounts here, they won’t touch the real money.”
Arkady nods. “And the warehouses?”
“Clean. Everything illegal has been relocated or destroyed. The only thing they’ll find is legitimate shipping operations.” I pour myself a fresh drink. “Iakov can feed them whatever he wants. It won’t stick.”
Arkady allows himself a small smile. “You’re a damn good pakhan, boss. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
“We’re all doing the best we can,” I say grimly. I look up and give him a small nod. “Yourself included. You’ve been a good soldier, Arkady. It doesn’t go unnoticed.”
He bows in gratitude, then takes his leave, closing the door behind him.
I’m alone again. Just me and the scotch and the ultrasound photo I can’t stop staring at. Everything is falling apart. My mother is alive, Iakov is working with the feds, Mikayla betrayed me. And now, Babushka is lying in a hospital bed because I didn’t protect her well enough.
The only bright spot is Olivia. But even that’s complicated.
She doesn’t believe me about Natalia. I can see it in her eyes when I talk about my mother. The doubt. The hesitation. Like maybe I’m the one who’s wrong.
It shouldn’t surprise me. Natalia is a master manipulator. She’s spent decades perfecting the art of making people see what she wants them to see. Of course she’d work her magic on Olivia.
But I truly thought Olivia would be different. I thought she’d trust me. Believe me.
Instead, she looks at me like I’m the villain in this story.
Fuck, maybe I am.
I reach for the bottle and pour yet another drink. It won’t solve any of my problems, but maybe it’ll give me the resolve to do what must be done about at least one of them. Because Mikayla is still in the basement.
I got what I needed from her. Whether I can trust it is a different question, but the one at hand right now is, What the fuck do I do with her?
The smart move is obvious: Kill her and bury her somewhere no one will ever find her.
But the thought of doing that churns my stomach in a way it never has before.
She’s not innocent, not by a long shot. But her reasons weren’t greed or ambition. They were grief and rage and the desperate need to make someone pay for her sister’s death.
I understand that all too well.
Another knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I look up, assuming it’s Arkady, back to tell me something he forgot. But it’s not Arkady; it’s Taras.
And behind him, looking perfectly composed in an expensive suit, is Iakov Zakharov.
“What the fuck?” I’m on my feet instantly.
Taras holds up his hands. “He walked right up to the gate. Said he wanted to talk.”
“So you just let him in?”
“He’s unarmed. We checked.”
I look at Iakov, who smiles. “Hello, Stefan.”
“Get out of my house.”
“I will. In a minute.” He walks past Taras and into the room. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Very gothic. Very you.”
“I said get out.”
“I heard you. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say first.”
I glance at Taras, who shrugs. I turn back to Iakov. “You have thirty seconds.”
“That’s all I need.” He brushes an invisible piece of lint off his sleeve.
“The FBI came to see me again. Did you know that?” He glances at the folder on my desk and smirks.
“I guess you do. They asked a lot of questions about you. Your businesses, your connections. They really wanted to nail you for something.”
“And?”
“And they couldn’t. You’ve covered your tracks well. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“The point is, you’re clean. At least as far as they can prove. So they’re backing off.”
I don’t believe him. “Just like that?”
He nods. “Just like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I told them to.”
I laugh. “You told the FBI to back off, and they listened?”
“I have my ways.”
“Bullshit.”
He smiles again. “Believe what you want. The fact remains, you’re off their radar.
For now. Which brings me to why I’m here.
” He strolls to the window and looks out at the grounds.
“You know, Stefan, sometimes I think, in another life, we might have been friends.” He turns back to me.
“Unfortunately, this life is all we’ve got.
And you’re responsible for my father’s death. I can’t just forget that.”
“Are you here to try to kill me, Iakov?”
He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “I’m here to give you a choice. But I’m just the messenger.”
He dials a number and puts it on speaker. The phone rings once. Twice.
Then a voice answers. Cool. Familiar. Deadly.
“Hello, Stefan.”
My blood runs cold.
“It’s been a long time,” the voice continues. “Why don’t you say hello to your mother?”