Chapter 48
CHAPTER 48
ARMAN
E llie falls asleep just before dawn and as I watch her sleeping, a fierce burst of protectiveness consumes me. I will kill anyone who hurts this woman, and that is no empty threat. Now my thoughts catch up with me. I understand how serious this could be.
Her father is alive and searching for her and by the sounds of it, he’s Russian. The most important thing now is securing Ellie’s future because it now belongs to me and I am extremely protective of what is mine.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, I edge out of the bed and run my fingers through my hair as I head to the shower.
It doesn’t take me long to clean up and as I pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt; I head to my den, intent on only one thing.
“Arman.”
Titus answers immediately, and I’m guessing it’s just after lunch there.
“Is everything okay?”
He sounds concerned and I sigh heavily. “I’m not sure. We have some information that needs checking out.”
As I fill him in on Adele’s conversation with Ellie, his sharp intake of breath tells me he’s heard every word and understood the meaning behind them.
“This is interesting news.” His low voice wraps me in confidence that he will soon have the answers we need.
“The photograph is known to us. Mama, herself told us she was friends with the women but had lost touch with them years ago. She was scathing of Marsha Steele and it appeared her closest friend was Adele Heatherington, now Kenricky. I will ask her about the Russians.”
“Are you sure about that, Titus?”
I’m aware it’s not a good idea to question my brother and his silence would normally make a grown man break out in a sweat, but I’m not the enemy here and say carefully. “She may not be aware of Veronica’s involvement with pa. We need to discover who these men were and get a clearer picture before we ask her the story behind it.”
“I take your point.” He sighs heavily. “Ana is due to start work at The Rose Foundation in Los Angeles in a few days, and I’ll ask Alexei to delve into the past.”
I breathe a sigh of relief because my brother Alexei will relish the challenge and his new girlfriend, Serena, is the granddaughter of Don Vieri, of the Vieri Mafia. They have connections that can rival any secret service and deflect any heat from our door.
Titus sighs heavily. “We take one step forward and three back. If we can understand the connection between Burning Roses and The Rose Foundation, we may understand the reason behind pa’s death. His mistress was murdered too. I am in no doubt about that and I have a strong feeling that Marsha Steele knows why. Send Luka to extract the information. I am done with this shit. That woman is the key to unraveling the mystery, and my patience has run out.”
“Consider it done.”
He cuts the call, which tells me everything. Titus is not a patient man and if he loses his shit, empires will crumble and it’s up to me to make sure it’s not ours, so I do as he says and I make the call.
I leave a note for Ellie in case she wakes up and finds me gone, assuring her I won’t be long and to order breakfast.
Then I head down to the garage level and find Luka waiting along with my men.
The atmosphere is full of tense anticipation because they are like dogs on leashes and desperate to let off steam. It’s unusual for us to execute this kind of work. My brother Mikhail revels in this type of mission. My men are more suited to intimidation and coercion. Our business rivals often fall foul to their attention if they attempt to go against us.
It’s at times like this I realize the full extent of what The Romanov business involves and my heart is racing with adrenalin as I head off in search of answers.
I fill Luka in as we proceed toward Marsha’s Steele’s home in New York. She has several in various countries, largely because her empire scans continents and her stay here may be a fleeting one now that Nikolai has left for home .
“What are her movements?” I ask Luka, who has been monitoring her stay here.
“It appears she was here for Nikolai. She stayed mainly at her home in the city. A few deliveries have arrived from well-known clothing brands but otherwise no other movement.”
“And her conversations?”
“Business.”
Luka bugged her apartment and her phone and he laughs softly. “She has been arranging more parties for Burning Roses and setting up interviews for girls who have been recommended. She had a visitor, Michelle Jackson, a woman who runs a bar on the East side. She has recommended girls in the past and they met up for coffee at The Blue Room where they discussed some potential escorts.”
“Business as usual then.” My heart hardens because Marsha knows Ellie is in town and despite her apparent fear, she hasn’t even attempted to get in touch with her. So much for motherly love. Marsha never had any in the first place and treats Ellie like a stranger.
Luka’s phone lights up and I don’t miss the frown that darkens his face as he says quickly, “She’s leaving.”
“Any visuals?”
He flicks through his phone and finds the recording of inside her apartment and we watch Marsha frantically packing, almost as if she’s in a hurry.
“What happened?”
I’m confused and Luka says angrily, “Give me a minute.”
He carries on studying the screen and then pulls up a recording where Marsha is woken by a notification on her phone. She reads it and then jumps out of bed and begins packing things into a bag and pulls on her clothes in haste, calling for a cab to the airport.
“Fuck!” Luka growls as we watch her head out of her apartment and lock up and then the next thing we hear is her imperious voice hissing into her phone. “You told me five minutes, and it’s been ten already. Where is he?”
“What’s our eta?” I ask quickly.
“Five minutes.”
“Tell the driver to go faster. We must beat that cab.”
As Luka instructs the driver to floor it, my heart thumps as I sense our opportunity slipping away from us and as we turn the corner to Marsha’s apartment block, I notice a yellow cab in front of us.
“Fuck!” I am so frustrated because the last thing we need is a witness and as the cab slows down in front of her building, Luka says grimly, “What the fuck!”
He pounds on the glass separating us from the driver and as the car squeals to a stop, he exits the car at speed and heads off running, closely followed by the men in the car in front.
As I join them, I see a figure slumped on the sidewalk and hear the cab driver call out, “Somebody call the cops!”