Chapter 14Mikhail
14
Mikhail
I stand at the windows of my penthouse, but my mind is far away in Scotland. Phoebe’s angry voice lingers in my head, her frustration almost physical even through the phone. I picture her face, green eyes flashing with hurt and confusion.
“Dammit,” I mutter. I should have told her everything before she left and explained why I sent her away, but how could I make her understand the danger without revealing too much?
I turn back to the room, looking over the organized chaos spread across every surface. Maps of Miami cover the dining table, marked with red pins indicating Valdés’ known properties and operations. Surveillance photos are tacked to a large corkboard, faces of his lieutenants and associates staring back at me.
My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up, hoping it’s Phoebe. It’s not. Just another update from Sergei.
“Any news?” I ask, my voice gruff.
“We’ve identified three more of Valdés’ shell companies,” he says. “And our man inside his organization says there’s unrest among the lower ranks. They’re not happy with how he’s handling the recent setbacks.”
I allow myself a small smile. “Good. Keep pushing. We’re close to finding a weak spot. I can feel it.”
“Yes, boss, and… there’s something else.” Sergei hesitates. “We’ve intercepted some chatter. Valdés is planning something big, but we don’t know what yet.”
My jaw tightens. “Double your efforts. I want to know everything he’s planning before he does it.”
I end the call and toss the phone onto the coffee table. I glance at a framed photo of Phoebe and me, taken during happier times on the deck of my yacht. She’s laughing as the wind whips through her locks. I’m looking at her with a smile I barely recognize on my own face.
“I’m sorry, lyubimaya ,” I whisper to her image. “I’m doing this to keep you safe.”
My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text from Nastya.
“P is safe. Exploring the castle. Still angry.”
I type back a quick “Thank you” before tossing aside the phone again. At least Phoebe is safe, even if she hates me right now. I’d rather have her alive and angry than in danger here.
I pour myself a glass of vodka, savoring the burn as I swallow. The familiar warmth spreads through my chest, but it does little to ease the ache of Phoebe’s absence. “Soon,” I say to Masha, who is sprawled on her dog bed in the corner. “Soon this will all be over, and I can explain everything.”
Her ears twitch, and the unbroken one perks up before she lays down again. She seems glum and is clearly missing Phoebe. “Me too,” I say with a long sigh.
I return to the maps and photos, losing myself in the details of Valdés’ operations. Hours pass while I analyze every piece of information, looking for patterns, weaknesses, or anything we can exploit. As the first rays of sunlight start to peek through the windows, I finally allow myself to rest. I sink onto the couch, body heavy with fatigue, but even as my eyelids close, my mind keeps working, planning our next move.
In my dreams, Phoebe is here, safe in my arms, but when I wake, the reality of our separation hits me anew. I check my phone, hoping for a message from her, but there’s nothing.
I force myself to focus on the task at hand. Valdés needs to be dealt with, and quickly. Only then can I bring Phoebe home and finally tell her the truth about who I am and the world I inhabit.
With renewed determination, I stand and head for the shower. Another long day awaits, filled with strategizing and maneuvering, but with every move we make, we get closer to our goal, and closer to the day when I can hold Phoebe in my arms again and never let her go.
The next afternoon, the harsh ring of my phone cuts through the silence of my penthouse. I snatch it up, recognizing Sergei’s number. “What is it?” I ask, my voice tense.
“Boss, we’ve got trouble,” he says, his tone grim. “Our informants have uncovered Valdés’ plans. It’s big.”
I straighten, instantly alert. “Tell me everything.”
Sergei lays out the detail. It’s a coordinated attack on our businesses across Miami, including our main money-laundering front in South Beach. My jaw clenches as he continues.
“There’s more,” he says. “Valdés has put out a hit on you. A substantial bounty.”
“Understood. Assemble the team. Secure room at the hotel. One hour.” I end the call and move swiftly, grabbing my jacket and gun. Holstering the weapon, I glance at Phoebe’s photo. Her smile, frozen in time, makes me ache to hold her again, but I push aside the feeling. There’s no room for sentiment now.
An hour later, I stand at the head of a table in the hotel’s secure room. Maps and surveillance photos cover every inch of the surface. Sergei, Vladimir, Rodion, and my other trusted lieutenants gather around, their faces grim.
“Gentlemen, we face a significant threat. Valdés is making his move.”
I outline what we know, watching their reactions. Anger, determination, and a hint of fear flicker across their faces.
“We need a plan,” I say. “One that will cripple Valdés without starting an all-out war.”
Sergei looks sharp. “I have an idea. We use our banking connections to freeze his offshore accounts. Cut off his cash flow.”
I nod, considering. “Good. Make it happen. What else?”
Rodion speaks next. “A cyberattack. Yuri’s in Scotland, but I know some things about cybercrime. I can create a virus to slowly corrupt their data. It’ll make their intelligence unreliable and cause internal chaos.”
“Excellent,” I say. “Get started immediately.”
Vlad clears his throat. “There’s another angle we could exploit. The rivalry between Valdés and the Torellos. If we anonymously tip them off about Valdés encroaching on their territory...”
I flash a predatory grin. “It could ignite a conflict, dividing Valdés’ attention and resources. I like it.”
The room falls silent while I pace, thinking. Then an idea strikes me. “We know Valdés is expecting a major drug shipment soon,” I say. “Instead of destroying it, we replace it with a harmless substitute. Let him distribute it unknowingly.”
Sergei’s slowly grins. “It would damage his reputation with customers and suppliers alike.”
I nod. “Exactly, and finally, we plant a mole in his organization. Not for intelligence, but to sow distrust among his lieutenants.”
The room buzzes with energy while we flesh out the details of each part of the plan. Hours pass strategizing arguing and refining our approach.
Finally, as dawn breaks, I stand. “You all have your assignments. Let’s move.”
As the others file out, Sergei lingers. “Boss, what about Phoebe? Should we bring her back?”
I pause, considering. The thought of Phoebe here, in danger, makes my blood run cold, but the idea of her alone in Scotland, angry and confused, isn’t much better.
“No,” I say finally. “She’s safer where she is for now. Double her security detail but keep it discreet.”
Sergei nods and leaves. I turn to the window, watching the sun rise over Miami. The city sparkles, beautiful and oblivious to the war brewing in its shadows.
My phone buzzes with a text from Phoebe.
“When are you coming? We need to talk.”
I close my eyelids, allowing myself a moment of weakness. I miss her. The warmth of her smile, the softness of her skin, the way she looks at me like I’m just a man, not a crime lord. How will she look at me when she knows? The thought makes my stomach clench.
I can’t think about that now. I have a war to win. I type a quick reply.
“Soon. I promise. Stay safe.”
Tucking away the phone, I fortify myself for the fight ahead. Valdés won’t know what hit him, and when the dust settles, I’ll go to Phoebe and finally tell her the truth. About everything.
Nearly a week later, I pace the length of my penthouse. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Phoebe, alone in Scotland, and the growing threat from Valdés. The past few days have been a whirlwind of violence and retribution. We’ve struck back at The Corporation, but each blow we land seems to invite two in return. The situation is spiraling, and I can no longer ignore the nagging fear in the pit of my stomach.
I pick up my phone, staring at Phoebe’s contact photo. Her smile, so warm and genuine, makes my chest ache. I’ve kept her at arm’s length, thinking distance would keep her safe. Now, I’m not so sure. With a deep breath, I press the call button. The phone rings twice before her voice fills my ear.
“Mikhail? Is everything okay?”
Her concern is evident, and guilt gnaws at me. “Phoebe,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I need you to come home.”
“What? We’ve only been here three weeks, and you and I have plans for next week when you?—”
“I know,” I interrupt, hating the disappointment in her voice. “Something’s come up. It’s complicated. I can’t explain over the phone, but I need you here. In Miami. As soon as possible.”
There’s a long pause, and I can almost see her frowning, trying to make sense of my request. “What’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, I’m fine. It’s just... Please, Phoebe. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
Another pause, shorter this time. “Okay,” she says finally, her voice small. “I’ll book a flight for tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll meet you at the airport. Text me your flight details.”
“All right. Are you sure everything’s okay?” She still sounds angry with me, but it’s tempered now with true concern, letting me know she still cares.
I swallow hard, hating the lie I’m about to tell. “Everything’s fine, lyubimaya . I just miss you.”
We say our goodbyes, and I end the call, tossing the phone onto the nearby couch. My decisions presses down on me. I’ve disappointed her, but the alternative—leaving her vulnerable to Valdés’ men—is unthinkable.
I walk to the bar, pouring myself a generous measure of vodka. The first sip burns, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. Images flash before my eyes—Phoebe, laughing in the sunshine, then Valdés’ sneering face and bodies lying in pools of blood.
A knock at the door interrupts my dark thoughts. “Come in,” I call out, not turning from the window.
Sergei enters, his reflection visible in the glass. “Boss, we’ve got an update.”
I turn to face him, gesturing for him to continue.
“We’ve intercepted some chatter... Valdés knows about Phoebe, of course, and we’ve been trying to figure out how much he knows.”
The glass in my hand shatters, vodka and blood mingling as shards embed themselves in my palm. I barely notice the pain. “What exactly does he know?”
“Not much,” he says quickly. “Just that she exists, and she’s important to you. We don’t think he knows where she is.”
I clench my fist, ignoring the sting. “He won’t get the chance to find out. I’ve asked her to come home.”
Sergei’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Are you sure that’s wise? She’ll be right in the middle of?—”
“I know,” I snap, then soften my tone. “I know, but I can protect her better here. We’ll increase security at the penthouse and assign a personal detail to shadow her at all times.”
“Understood, boss. I’ll make the arrangements.”
As Sergei turns to leave, I call out to him. “Sergei? Make sure the men understand if anything happens to Phoebe, if even a hair on her head is harmed, I’ll hold them personally responsible.”
He nods gravely. “They’ll guard her with their lives, Mikhail. You have my word.”
Once I’m alone again, I walk to the bathroom to clean my injured hand. While I pick out the glass shards, my thoughts wander to Phoebe. How will I explain all this to her? The danger, the violence, and the life I’ve kept hidden from her?
I wrap a bandage around my palm, clenching my jaw as I think of Valdés. He’s crossed a line, trying to use Phoebe against me. I’ll make him regret ever hearing her name.
Returning to the living room, I survey the maps and documents spread across every surface. Somewhere in this mess is the key to bringing down Valdés and his entire operation. I have to find it, and soon. For Phoebe’s sake, and for my own.
As dawn breaks over Miami, I’m still at it, my eyes burning from lack of sleep. My phone chimes with a message from Phoebe giving her flight details. She’ll be here in less than twenty-four hours.
I settle back in my chair, weariness finally catching up with me. Soon, Phoebe will be here, safe under my protection, but she’ll also be thrust into a world she knows nothing about, a world of danger and violence from which I’ve tried so hard to shield her.
I can only hope that when she learns the truth about who I am and what I do, she’ll understand why I kept it from her, and maybe she’ll find it in her heart to forgive me.