Chapter 21
KATE
Cole’s finger hovers over his keyboard, ready to strike the one key that will transfer Viktor across the ether.
“Go on,” Nikolai Tarasov says irritably. His face fills the monitor because he’s sitting too close to his camera. His lips are chapped.
Cole sends the file.
There’s a moment when the code isn’t here, isn’t there, when it’s suspended in space. And then a chime echoes from Tarasov’s computer.
Nikolai speaks to someone off-screen. “Check this.” The eejit he’s brought in to do his tech work must not move fast enough, because the pakhan snaps his fingers and says, “Now!”
Cole says, “I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Not so fast,” Nikolai says. “Where’s the manual?”
“There isn’t any manual.” Cole’s tone hints at one more word: Idiot. “There’s documentation in the code.”
Nikolai glowers, but he doesn’t protest. This is the first time I’ve seen the bratva leader the least bit unsure of himself. I wonder if Pyotr took advantage of his father’s lack of skill.
Of course he did.
Nikolai recovers quickly enough. “I will send my driver for Katya.”
The crimson curtain that sweeps across my brain leaves me breathless. A dozen different responses boil to my lips, each more foul than the one before.
But Cole’s response is carved from glacier ice. “Kate is going nowhere.”
“You needed her help to build RedBear. You have delivered RedBear. Now she is mine.”
“Kate Lynch is still my wife.”
Nikolai expels a Slavic puff of air. “A detail.”
“Not to me,” Cole says, with all the deadly seriousness of choosing pistols at dawn.
“My demands were very clear. Monthly payments. Cryptocurrency. And Katya.”
“You released the indictment. I delivered RedBear. I say we’re even.”
“You do not get to say we’re even. I am the one who decides. And I want Katya.”
I can’t listen to them anymore, bargaining over me like I’m a piece of meat. I lean in closer to the camera. “Katya says go to fucking hell.”
Tarasov’s laugh is cruel. “I will take such pleasure taming that mouth of yours.”
“You can try, you motherfucking gobshite.”
“Speaking of mothers…” Tarasov says. “I want to know if you will scream as loud as your mother does when my hui is up your ass.”
Cole clamps his hand on my wrist. There’s nothing to be gained by my destroying his computer. But backing off is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.
“You have RedBear,” Cole says to Tarasov. And he ends the call.
I pace his office, rounding the corners in a fruitless attempt to shake off the fury in my blood. “He’s a fucking menace,” I say.
“He is.”
“He’s an animal.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll kill him while he sleeps.”
“You’re never getting that close to him.”
I freeze. “You can’t promise that,” I finally say.
“You will not marry Nikolai Tarasov.”
I want to believe him. I want to feel his certainty in my bones. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel like my brain is about to combust.
I take a deep breath, letting some of Cole’s glacial calm settle through my body. I shake out my hands, bleeding off more of my rage. I toss my head, because I know this isn’t over. It won’t be over until one of us is dead—Tarasov or me.
But I’m finally calm enough to say, “We can talk about this later. We have to get going to New York.”
Cole’s bark is honestly amused. “You’re not going to New York.”
“Think about it,” I say. “One of the men guarding this house is a traitor.”
“That man might be coming with me.”
“You’re taking a team of what? Four? Odds are, he’ll be here.”
“Kate. I’m going to a sex club.”
“All the more reason for your wife to come along.”
He sighs with exasperation. “This is a business trip. You know I won’t be playing.”
“I won’t be either.” I wait, but he gives no sign of budging. I have to set down my trump card. “You just hung up on Tarasov. Do you really think he’ll take that sitting down? He can have an army of bratva thieves here by supper. I’ll be safer with you in New York.”
As Cole stares at me, I wait for him to tell me I’m wrong. I don’t know which of us is more surprised when he finally sighs and says, “Pack an overnight bag. We leave for the airport in half an hour.”