Lindsay
Everyone is allowed a moment of weakness in their lives. Moments of weaknesses are fine. We’re all human. But once it’s over, you also have to show up and ensure that you don’t disappoint the people that look up to you.
“State your name for the record.”
The man across from me shifts in his seat, adjusting his tie for the third time in under five minutes.
“Viktor Hunt.”
I don’t look up immediately. I make a note instead, pen moving steadily across the page before I finally lift my gaze.
“Mr. Hunt,” I say evenly, “you understand you’re under oath?”
“Yes.”
“And that any false statements made during this deposition can be used against you in court.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Good. I can tell he’s already nervous. I lean back slightly in my chair, just enough to give the impression of ease. It’s deliberate.
“Let’s start simple,” I continue. “You’re listed as the managing director of Volga Imports, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And Volga imports specializes in…?”
“Logistics. Shipping. International trade.”
“Of what?”
Another pause.
“Various goods.”
I let the silence stretch. People like him rush to fill it.
“Automotive parts,” he adds quickly. “Machinery. That sort of thing.”
“Of course.”
I flip a page in the file, slow, controlled.
“And your company received three shipments last quarter through the Port of Newark,” I say. “All flagged for irregular documentation.”
“That’s a clerical issue,” he replies quickly. “We resolved it.”
“Did you.”
It’s not a question. A statement. He shifts again.
“Yes.”
I glance up at him meeting his eyes fully now.
“Then you won’t mind explaining why the contents of those shipments don’t match the manifests filed under your name.”
Silence.
His attorney leans forward. “My client—”
“Is under oath,” I cut in smoothly, without raising my voice.
The attorney leans back. He’s a rookie. Must not have been practicing for long. Which makes him exceptionally easy to intimidate. I wonder why Hunt hired him. Then again, he must be pressed for cash considering most of his assets have been seized.
The court reporter sits quietly at the conference table, typing everything we say for record-keeping purposes.
Viktor swallows. “I’m not responsible for every detail.”
“No?” I tilt my head slightly. “You’re the managing director.”
“Yes, but there are… there are departments. People who handle—”
“So you’re saying you have no knowledge of what your company is importing.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you implied.”
His jaw tightens.
“I’m saying mistakes happen.”
“Three times in one quarter?”
“Yes.”
I let that sit. Then, “Are you familiar with the term ‘shell corporation,’ Mr. Hunt?”
His eyes flicker. Just for a second. That’s all I need.
“I—yes.”
“Good,” I say. “Then you’ll understand why the financial trail connecting Volga imports to two additional entities registered under different names might raise questions.”
“That’s—those are business partners!” he bursts, losing his cool.
“Of course.” I slide a document across the table. “Then you can explain why those ‘partners’ share identical routing numbers and offshore accounts.”
Silence. The room tightens. He looks at the paper, then at his attorney. Then back at me.
“We’d like to take a break,” his attorney says.
“Noted,” I reply. “Denied.”
He stiffens. “We’re entitled to one.”
“You are,” I agree. “After my question is answered.”
I meet Viktor’s gaze again.
“Explain the accounts.”
He hesitates. And with that hesitation, I get exactly what I need. By the time it’s over, he’s said more than intended. It’s enough that I’m completely satisfied with the outcome of the case in court.
“We can end here today,” I inform him and his attorney.
I gather my files, stacking them neatly before standing. Which is when I notice someone standing at the door to the room, a small smile on his face like he knows he absolutely shouldn’t be here.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hunt. That will be all for now”
He doesn’t respond. Just watches me warily as I leave. I step outside the conference room and begin walking down the hall. Frowning slightly, I look around, wondering where he disappeared to.
“That was very impressive, rich girl.”
The voice comes from behind me. I jolt, slightly startled, before turning around.
Edward Fadden leans causally against the wall, one shoulder resting against it like he’s been there a while, watching.
“Agent Fadden,” I acknowledge. “You weren’t given authorization to sit in on my deposition.”
“I was not,” he agrees, pushing off the wall to stand in front of me. “But I was at your office and your paralegal told me about it. I thought I’d check you out.”
“And?”
“And your reputation is well earned,” he replies. “You’re a force to be reckoned with when you want to be.”
My eyebrow arches, “I want to be a force to be reckoned with all the time.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you need, Agent Fadden?”
He falls into step beside me as I head down the hall. “Straight to business? You’re hurting my feelings, Ms. Beaumont.”
“Oh dear. Whatever shall I do about that,” I say dryly.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “You weren’t in the office yesterday. I came asking for you. And your paralegal told me you’d taken a sick day. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a small cold,” I lie.
He studies me. I can feel it without turning to look at his face.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I should know about?”
“No.”
A beat. Then he nods once, filing that away for later.
“Right,” he says. “Well, you’re here now.”
“I am.”
We reach the end of the hall. I slow, shifting the files slightly in my arms.
“Want some help with that?” Edward asks, eyeing them.
“I’m good, thanks.”
My office isn’t that far away.
“So I was thinking,” he continues. “We could go out, grab lunch. Talk through the next steps on the case.”
The offer is casual. And I don’t answer immediately. I think about the two men positioned outside the office in an inconspicuous black car. They haven’t stopped following me all morning, and I know they won’t.
If I went out for lunch, they’d be there, too. Which would be fine. I’ve learned to live with their presence. The problem is that they report back to Matteo.
And while there’s a flicker of irritation that I have to be cautious about who I go out to lunch with at all, I have a feeling Fadden and I leaving the office together would not be well received by him.
I think about the kiss yesterday. He doesn’t own me. But he kissed me like he did.
My lips tingle at the memory of it. The world had indeed stopped. And so had my heart and every other part of me.
I stare at Fadden for a minute. Matteo and I are complicated. The last thing I need are further complications.
“Thanks for the offer, but I think we should just talk in my office,” I tell him, my voice just as casual.
He pauses. I can see him working through my reply. He hadn’t been expecting it. There’s a brief burn of something that looks a lot like rejection in his expression.
“You’re a busy woman, Beaumont,” he says, recovering easily. “Another time, then.”
“So.. my office? We can discuss the case there.”
His gaze sharpens slightly. “Yeah, that works.”
We turn, heading in that direction.
“I’ve got some updates anyway,” he says. “Thought you’d want to hear them sooner rather than later.”
I glance at him curiously. Neither of us says anything until we arrive at my office. Rachel steps forward to take the case files in my hand and after handing them to her, I lead him in. We take our seats and I wait patiently for him to speak.
“One of the Pakhan’s lieutenants is dead.”
My expression doesn’t change. And I’m imminently glad for that. But at those words, I feel a ringing in my ears. And something inside me stills completely.
Dead. I know exactly which lieutenant he’s talking about and I know exactly how.
I suck in a sharp breath. “When?”
“Few days ago,” he replies. “The Bratva’s currently up in arms. Confused. Because they have no idea who did it. Whoever it was, the job was clean. He and two other men were found dead in a cabin far out of town.”
The image of how they must have been found flashes in my mind. The look in Matteo’s eyes as he killed them. The sounds, the screams.
“They’re rattled,” Fadden continues and I’m glad he doesn’t seem to notice my unease. “Whatever they were doing wasn’t sanctioned. And that’s not all. Some of their shipments have been going missing.”
I look at him sharply. “Missing?”
“Intercepted. Misrouted. They’re trying to figure out how.”
That part confuses me.
“How do you know all this?”
Fadden smiles slightly. “I told you,” he says. “I have an inside man.”
I study him for a moment. He knows more than he should. And it makes me slightly suspicious of him.
“It’s not really a good day to be a member of the Russian Bratva,” Fadden adds, his tone light. “This is good for us, though. They’re destabilizing. Making mistakes.”
He’s right. This is good for us. But it doesn’t feel like a win.
“You don’t think it’s all slightly suspicious?” I feel the need to ask. “None of this feels stable.”
He tilts his head slightly. “That’s the point.”
“For you, maybe.”
“For us,” he corrects. “We’re on the same side, remember?”
Are we?
The question lingers in my mind. Maybe it’s because I was abducted and very nearly killed. But it feels like every angle and every wall is out to get me. And suffocate me.
Fadden watches me, something creeping into his expression.
“You alright?” he asks.
My reply is automatic. “Yes.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “You know you can come to me if you need help, right? I’ve got a big shiny FBI badge and a gun I know how to use. I could help you, Lindsay.”
I offer him a small smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that. But I can assure you, I’m fine.”
He pauses for a beat. And then I see him let it go.
“Okay. Things are moving in our favor,” he tells me. “That’s what matters.”
I nod in agreement. But I still can’t shake a feeling of foreboding.
The feeling follows me throughout the day. Even after having dinner, I still can’t shake it. I think it’s the silence in the penthouse. It’s gnawing at me. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore.
I exhale a soft breath before getting out of bed and heading to the closet. I grab running shoes and change into leggings and a tank top. I throw a jacket over it before heading down in the elevator and outside the hotel, my car keys in my hand.
I’m searching for the valet to bring my car from the underground parking lot when I feel a presence behind me. Two presences, actually.
I turn around. And despite the fact that I know they’re here to protect me, I feel threatened all the same. I’ve barely interacted with my bodyguards. I saw them briefly this morning before they blended back into the shadows. I’m a little annoyed that they’re not staying there.
“Ms. Beaumont,” one of them speaks. He’s a little lean but tall and built with a beard and dark brown eyes. They didn’t give me their names, so I’ve been calling them Crater and Boulder to differentiate. “It’s a little late.”
My eyes go a little wide and I let out an amused scoff. Them trying to control my movements was not part of the deal.
“Yes, and?” I question.
Boulder speaks now. He’s huge with dark skin and surprisingly kind brown eyes. “Ma’am, we feel the need to advise against you leaving the hotel.”
“I’m going to the park nearby. For a run,” I state, my tone making it clear that they will not be able to stop me.
They share a look and I can see them come to the same conclusion.
“Then we’ll come with you, ma’am, to keep you safe.”
“You could ride there in our car,” Crater offers, gesturing at the black Prius parked across the street.
I clench down on my teeth. I’m going on a run because I need an escape. Because it feels like there are walls closing around me.
Crater and Boulder are effectively walls.
But I don’t argue with them. I have a plan in mind. I let them lead me to their car and I slide into the back seat. We arrive at the park soon enough and I step down slowly, preparing myself.
They watch as I lean down to tighten my shoelaces.
“You’re going to run with me, aren’t you?” I ask the men.
“Yes,” Crater answers.
“Alright.” I rise, cracking my knuckles. “Catch me if you can.”
Before they can blink, I take off, running down the narrow path. I hear their soft muttered curses behind me as they follow, trying to keep up. I know this place better than they do and it’s dark. A few sharp turns and, soon enough, I’ve lost them.
I run as fast as I can, feeling my heart strain with the movement. But I also feel exhilaration run through me. Blood pumps through my veins.
And I think to myself that maybe I’ve fallen for a fucking mafia boss and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.