Chapter 19Valerian
19
Valerian
I stand at the huge window of my penthouse office, hands clasped behind my back, my reflection a dark silhouette against the glass. My mind, usually laser-focused on business, keeps drifting to Claire.
She’s been different these past few days. Distant. Distracted. The usual spark in her eyes when she looks at me has dimmed, replaced by something I can’t quite decipher. Worry? Fear? Whatever it is, it gnaws at me like an itch I can’t scratch.
I turn from the window, pacing the length of my office. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps, but it does nothing to quiet the thoughts spinning through my mind. Claire’s become more than just an employee, more than just a way to settle her brother’s debt. She’s wormed her way under my skin, past the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around myself.
I’d do anything to protect her. I want some indication she feels the same way, but her recent behavior has me worried.
A knock at the door interrupts my brooding. “Come in,” I call out, schooling my features into a mask of cool indifference.
Dmitri enters, his face grim. He closes the door behind him and approaches my desk. “I’ve got an update on the Bennett situation.”
I nod, gesturing for him to continue as I take a seat behind my imposing desk.
“Our guard contact inside the prison reports the Petrov Syndicate’s imprisoned members are still shadowing and harassing Jay, but the boy remains mum. He’s still not talking to anyone, even the cellmate on our payroll.”
I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin. “And what of Matvey? Any movement on his end?”
Dmitri shakes his head. “Nothing concrete. He’s been quiet, which worries me more than if he was making noise. You know how he operates—the calm before the storm.”
I do know. Matvey Petrov is a snake, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation, and I’ve given him more than enough reason to want me dead. “Thank you, Dmitri,” I say, softening my tone. “Keep me updated on any developments with Jay or Matvey.”
“Will do, boss.” With that, he turns and leaves.
I wish he could take my worries and fears with him. Instead, I pour another splash of Dewars and settle back in my chair to brood.
The next morning, the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the silence of my office. Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen. I answer immediately.
“What is it?”
He sounds tense. “Boss, we’ve got a situation at the port. You need to come down here now.”
I’m already on my feet, grabbing my coat. “Give me details.”
“Two of our guys were found dead this morning. The Petrov symbol was left on the bodies.”
My jaw clenches. “I’m on my way. Have the area secured.” I end the call and stride out of my office. As I pass Claire reading on the couch, I hesitate. She looks up, her eyes questioning. “I have to go out,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “I’ll be back later.”
She nods, but I catch a flicker of concern in her expression. I push away the urge to reassure her and head for the elevator.
The drive to the port is tense. My mind races with possibilities, each scenario grimmer than the last. Matvey Petrov is making his move, and I need to be ready. I arrive at the docks, where Dmitri waits for me, his face grim.
“Where are they?” I ask, following him through a maze of shipping containers.
“Over here.” He leads me to a secluded area between two stacks of containers.
The sight that greets me makes my blood boil. Two of my men lie sprawled on the ground, their throats slit. The Petrov symbol—a stylized bear claw—is carved into their chests. I crouch down, examining the bodies. The cuts are precise and professional. This wasn’t some random act of violence. It was a message.
“Who found them?” I ask, standing up.
“One of our dock workers. He’s been questioned and cleared.”
I nod, already formulating a plan. “We need to clean this up fast. Get our cleanup crew here now. I want no trace left behind.” He pulls out his phone, making the necessary calls. I survey the area, looking for any clues the Petrovs might have left behind.
“Boss,” calls out one of my men. He’s holding up a small, metallic object. “Found this near the bodies.”
I take it from him, turning it over in my hand. It’s a cufflink, engraved with the Petrov family crest. My lips curl into a snarl. Matvey is taunting me.
“Bag it,” I order. “We’ll analyze it later.”
The cleanup crew arrives within minutes, efficiently removing all evidence of the gruesome scene. I watch them work, my mind churning with possible retaliations. “Dmitri,” I call. He’s at my side instantly. “I want every piece of intel we have on the Petrovs’ current operations, and double the security on all our shipments.”
“Already on it, boss.” He arches a brow. “What about Ms. Bennett? Should we increase her protection?”
I pause, considering Claire. The thought of her in danger makes my chest tighten. “Yes, but discreetly. I don’t want to alarm her.”
As the last traces of the crime scene disappear, I turn to face the water. “Matvey wants a war,” I mutter, more to myself than to Dmitri. “He’s about to get one.”
“What’s our next move?” asks Dmitri.
I turn back to him, my decision made. “We hit them where it hurts. Their shipment coming in next week… I want it gone.”
Dmitri’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s a big move, boss. It could escalate things quickly.”
“Good. I’m done playing defense. It’s time Matvey learns the same lesson Ansily learned about what happens when you cross the Rostovas.”
As we walk back to our cars, I think of Claire. Her safety has suddenly become my top priority, even above retaliation against the Petrovs. It’s a realization that both unsettles and strengthens me.
I return to my penthouse, mulling over plans for retaliation against the Petrov Syndicate. The deaths of my men demand swift and decisive action. I pace the length of my office, considering my options when my phone rings. Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen.
Before I can answer, the door slams open. Claire bursts in, her face ashen and eyes wide with fear. “Jay’s been beaten,” she says, her voice trembling. “He’s in the hospital. What the hell happened, Valerian? Did they target him because of you?”
My heart clenches at the sight of her panic. I answer the call, putting it on speaker. “Dmitri, go ahead.”
Dmitri’s voice crackles through the line. “Boss, I just got word Jay Bennett was attacked in prison. He’s been taken to the hospital.”
Claire’s eyes widen further, her suspicions confirmed. I curse under my breath. Our guard and cellmate informants are useless if they can’t give us advanced warning.
“The prison notified Claire’s parents,” Dmitri continues. “It’s bad, boss. Broken ribs, possible internal bleeding. Probably needs surgery.”
I meet Claire’s gaze, keeping my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Thanks, Dmitri.” I hang up, never looking away from her. “I don’t know all the details yet, but I’ll make sure you and your parents are safe. I’m going to stop them before they do more damage.”
Her expression falters as raw emotion flashes in her eyes. I see there’s something deeper, a fear she’s not voicing. “What is it?”
She shakes her head quickly, trying to hide it. “I’m just scared,” she admits, her voice quiet but firm.
I step closer, wanting to reach for her, but I hold back. I want her to reach for me, but she doesn’t, which hurts. She’s the one person who’s broken through the walls I’ve built for years, and now, with everything falling apart, I’m already too far gone. “I’ll handle this.” For Claire, I would burn down the world.
Claire’s gaze locks onto mine, filled with a touch of fear but mostly determination. “I need to go to the hospital,” she says, her voice stronger now. “I have to see Jay.”
I nod, already reaching for my coat. “I’m coming with you.”
She blinks, surprise flitting across her features. “You don’t have to?—”
“I do,” I interrupt. “Your safety is my priority now. Where you go, I go.”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. “I didn’t even really consider that you wouldn’t come.”
The admission makes my chest tighten in a way I’m not used to. I push the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand. “Dmitri, have a car brought around, and increase security at the hospital. I want our people on every entrance and exit.”
“Will do, boss,” he says before ending the call.
I guide Claire out of the office, my hand hovering near the small of her back without actually touching her. The elevator ride down to the garage is tense, filled with unspoken words and shared glances.
As we step out, I spot Viktor waiting by the sleek black SUV. He nods in acknowledgment, opening the rear door for us.
Claire slides in first, and I follow, sitting close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. The car pulls out of the garage, merging seamlessly into the flow of traffic.
She’s quiet, and I abruptly blurt out, “I’m sorry,” meaning it more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. “I never wanted you or your family involved in my conflict with Petrov.”
She looks at me, and I feel exposed under her gaze. “But we are involved now, aren’t we? There’s no going back, and it might not even be because of you.”
I nod slowly. “No, there’s no going back, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep you and your family safe whether or not Jay is being targeted because of me.”
The car slows as we approach the hospital. There’s tension in Claire’s body, clear in the way she leans forward slightly, eager to get to her brother.
“Wait,” I say, placing a hand on her arm as Viktor pulls up to the entrance. “Before we go in, you need to know something.”
Claire turns to me, gaze questioning.
“From this moment on, things are going to be different. You’ll have security with you at all times. They’ve always been there, but discreetly. They’ll be far more visible now, to send my own message to Petrov. Your movements will be monitored and protected. It’s for your safety, but it won’t be easy.”
She nods, looking resigned. “I understand. As long as it keeps my family safe, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“So will I.” As we exit the car, I scan the area, noting the positions of my men strategically placed around the hospital entrance. Claire doesn’t wait, striding purposefully toward the doors. I follow closely behind, my hand instinctively moving to the small of her back when we enter the bustling emergency room.
The harsh fluorescent lights cast a sickly pallor over everything. The air is thick with the smell of antiseptic and underlying notes of fear and pain.
She approaches the reception desk, her voice shaking only a little when she inquires about her brother. “Jay Bennett. He was brought in earlier. He’s my brother.”
The nurse types something into her computer, then looks up with a sympathetic expression. “He’s in surgery right now. If you’ll have a seat in the waiting area, the doctor will come speak with you as soon as there’s any news.”
Her shoulders slump slightly, but she nods and turns toward the waiting area. I guide her to a quiet corner, away from other worried families.
As we sit, I notice Claire’s hands trembling. Without thinking, I reach out and take one of her hands in mine. She looks up at me, surprise evident in her expression.
“He’ll be okay,” I say, trying to inject confidence into my voice. “Jay’s tough. He’ll pull through this.”
She nods, squeezing my hand. “I hope you’re right,” she whispers. “I can’t lose him, Valerian. He’s my brother, no matter how much trouble he’s caused.”
I understand her sentiment all too well. Family is everything, even when they disappoint you. It’s a lesson I learned early and painfully.
We sit in silence for a while, the hustle and bustle of the hospital fading into background noise. I keep a watchful eye on our surroundings, noting every person who enters or leaves the waiting area.