28. Nikolai
28
NIKOLAI
S omething’s off with Dmitri.
I’ve seen him distracted before—usually with women or his own schemes—but this? This is different. He’s been pacing, shutting himself in his office, and brushing off conversations with vague grunts and noncommittal answers. It’s driving me insane.
Which is why I find myself standing in the doorway of his office, arms crossed, watching him type something furiously into his laptop. He doesn’t even look up, which only fuels my suspicions.
“Dmitri,” I say, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me.
“Mm,” he responds, not bothering to glance up.
I lean against the edge of his desk, tilting my head. “So…anything you want to share?”
He finally looks up, one eyebrow raised. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, waving a hand vaguely. “You’ve been acting weird lately. Skulking around, avoiding people. You know, classic signs of someone hiding something.”
He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’re adorable when you try to be subtle.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m being serious, Dmitri. You’ve been acting fishy. Suspicious. Cagey. Secretive.”
One of his eyebrows goes up. “Did you raid a thesaurus before coming in here?”
“Don’t dodge the question,” I say, pointing a finger at him. “I know you. You’ve got that look—the one that says you’re either planning something or hiding something. Spill it.”
He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head like he’s perfectly at ease. “You don’t have to dance around it, you know. Just say what you mean.”
“Fine.” I fold my arms across my chest, lowering my voice for dramatic effect. “What the hell are you hiding?”
Dmitri sighs, sitting up straight and rubbing the back of his neck. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
He grins, the kind of grin that makes me instantly regret pushing. “Alright, then. I’ll tell you.”
He pauses just long enough for me to roll my eyes. “Out with it, Dmitri.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands like I’m twisting his arm. “So, I’ve been working with my PI on something. Something…sensitive.”
My stomach twists, the humor draining from the moment. “Sensitive how?”
Dmitri’s grin fades slightly, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “It’s about Ivan’s kids.”
Now it’s my turn to freeze. “What about them?”
“Turns out,” Dmitri begins, his voice deliberately slow, “Elena wasn’t as loyal as we all thought. She was seeing someone during her marriage.”
My jaw drops, and for a second, I’m convinced I misheard him. “What the hell are you saying?” I’m trying to wrap my head around what Dmitri just told me. Elena…having an affair? The idea is absurd. Or at least, it should be.
“How could she have done it?” I ask, my voice low as I pace Dmitri’s office. “She never left the house without security. Sergei or someone else was always tailing her. It doesn’t make sense.”
Dmitri watches me from his seat, his expression thoughtful as he drums his fingers on the desk. “That’s the part that beats me,” he admits. “Whoever she was seeing had to be someone we trusted. Someone who could get past security without raising suspicion.”
I stop pacing and turn to him, the knot in my chest tightening. “So you think it was someone from inside?”
Dmitri shrugs, but his face is grim. “It’s a possibility. Or someone with enough power or resources to work around our system.”
I sink into the chair across from him, rubbing my hands over my face. “This doesn’t make sense, Dmitri. Elena wasn’t reckless. She knew the risks, the rules. She wouldn’t have put herself or the kids in danger.”
“People do strange things when they’re unhappy,” Dmitri says quietly.
Was she unhappy? Did any of us really know what was going on in her head?
“So, do you think whoever she was seeing…?” I trail off, not wanting to finish the thought.
“Is responsible for her death?” Dmitri finishes for me.
I nod, my throat tight.
“Possibly,” Dmitri says, his voice flat. “It would explain a lot. If she was planning to leave—or if she knew something she shouldn’t have—it could’ve been enough to make her a target.”
The thought makes my stomach churn. Elena wasn’t just Ivan’s wife or the mother of his children. She was part of this family. And the idea that someone could’ve betrayed her, hurt her, is almost too much to bear.
Dmitri and I exchange a grim glance.
“I don’t know what we’re going to find,” Dmitri says after a long pause. “But I’m not stopping until I have answers.”
I nod, my jaw tightening. “Neither am I.”
Unfortunately, though, our plans take a setback later in the week.
Ivan is seated at the head of the table, his fingers steepled under his chin as Dmitri finishes briefing us. A hit-and-run attempt on Staten Island, targeting our men at one of the warehouses.
“We need to find out who’s behind this,” Ivan says, his voice low and dangerous.
“No kidding,” Dmitri mutters, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve already sent a few of our guys to do recon, but we’re going to have to go down there ourselves. Interrogate some employees, check for leaks.”
Ivan nods, his eyes narrowing. “We leave in an hour. Be ready.”
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. Another long night ahead. Staten Island isn’t exactly around the corner, and these things always take longer than they should.
“Anything else?” I ask, glancing between them.
“No,” Ivan says, standing. “But don’t be late. We don’t have time to waste.”
Dmitri smirks. “When am I ever late?”
Ivan gives him a look that says he’s not in the mood for jokes, and Dmitri raises his hands in mock surrender.
I push back my chair, already planning the fastest route to the island in my head.
I run into Alice as I’m heading down the stairs.
She’s dressed in a soft, pale sweater and jeans, her hair tied back loosely. The sight of her makes my chest tighten, even before I catch the look on her face.
She’s nervous. No, more than that. There’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, like she’s not sure if she should say whatever it is she’s about to say.
“Hey,” I greet, pulling her aside and slipping my phone into my pocket. “What’s wrong?”
“You might think it’s silly,” she says, ducking her head.
“Nothing about you is silly. Tell me.” I glance at the paper in her hand. “What’s that?”
She glances down at the paper, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I…I thought it might be nice to plan something for all of us,” she says quietly.
It’s sweet, but it’s also the last thing we have time for right now.
“It’s a nice idea, really. But we’ve got some…complications to deal with today.”
Her brows knit together, confusion flickering across her face. “Complications?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Business. Staten Island. It’s not exactly the right time for a fancy dinner.”
“I thought it might be good for everyone,” she says quietly. “A way to…unwind.”
“It’s a nice idea, really, but things are a little…complicated right now.”
Her face falls, just slightly, but enough to make me feel like a complete asshole.
“Complicated,” she repeats, her voice quieter. “I just thought?—”
“I know,” I cut in, sighing. “But with Vadim, the estate, the business…there’s a lot going on. We can’t just drop everything for a picnic.”
I hate the words even as I say them, but they’re true.
She looks down, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “Right,” she says softly. “Of course. But what if you get off early?”
I laugh. “This isn’t an office job, Alice. You know that, right? Listen, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t like this new you…you’re being too needy.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to punch myself in the face.
Alice’s head snaps up, her eyes widening in shock, then narrowing into something colder. “Needy?”
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “That’s not what I meant.”
She steps back, her expression hardening. “Forget it,” she says, clutching the paper to her chest. “Go handle your ‘complications.’ I won’t bother you again.”
“Alice—”
But she’s already turning away, walking briskly toward the stairs.
I stand there, cursing under my breath as guilt settles heavily on my shoulders.
The drive to Staten Island is tense, with Ivan at the wheel and Dmitri flipping through his phone in the back seat.
“You look like someone ran over your dog,” Dmitri says, smirking at me.
“Shut up,” I mutter, staring out the window.
“Let me guess,” he continues. “Alice?”
I glance at him, scowling. “She’s upset.”
“No kidding,” he says, leaning back. “What’d you do?”
“I told her we couldn’t make time for her dinner,” I admit, the words tasting bitter.
Dmitri chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Not helping,” I snap.
“Focus,” Ivan says sharply, his hands gripping the wheel.
I bite back another retort, my mind drifting to Alice and the look on her face when I called her needy. I’ll make it up to her. Somehow. But right now, there’s no room for anything else.
Staten Island awaits, and so do our enemies.