Chapter 5 Sleuthing #2
“That would make my job easier,” Emma said, her own knowing grin barely morphing the rest of her face. “Also, between our efforts and Ivan’s, the news articles and reports have been expunged from the media. No one should bother us now, sir.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Sitting up, Mikko straightened the already pristine papers lining his desk. “I don’t think we should have any more troubles concerning him now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Glancing at his watch, he asked, “Am I still meeting with my two o’clock?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, I’ll come by soon to collect you. Based on the number of people they’re bringing with them, I’ve reserved the main conference room, both for space and first impressions.”
“Thank you,” was all he said, grateful Emma knew what he needed without him saying. Despite her being newer—Alek’s old assistant intolerable and quickly fired when Mikko came of age—she understood the ways of his mind.
Most of the time, real estate was about making connections and impressing those with the most money or sway. The high end Romanov office never failed to influence people and distract them from other inner workings happening after dark.
Unless that was what they were interested in themselves.
But those were secrets for later. Right now, Mikko would plan accordingly and let a certain someone occupy his mind for the time being. He already had her handwriting and a chewed piece of gum in his possession.
What could go wrong?
When Emma returned a few minutes later, signaling to him his new clients had arrived, Mikko decided to use his power for devious things.
The world was at his fingertips; he’d be foolish not to use that to his advantage.
Besides, this little game was a welcome distraction to his usual repetitive lifestyle.
Walking the expanse of the office leading toward the main conference room—more large swathes of glass visible from where he was and an extravagant light fixture hanging in the middle of the room—Mikko found himself smiling. For the first time in a while, he felt excited about something.
There was an underlying caution, a reservation he’d keep in place until he learned that this woman wasn’t up to no good.
But until then…
Gripping the conference room door handle, Mikko cleared his thoughts and fixed the metaphorical mask over his face. Stepping inside, six pairs of eyes greeted him, and in that moment he felt the power his father had chased.
“Gentleman,” he crooned, voice low and rich, “what brings you in today?”
* * *
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
The sharp sound of his computer mouse amid the silence of his office made the act even more furtive and scandalous. His meeting had ended a couple hours ago, and he’d been sequestered back in his office, mind hungry for more information ever since.
If only Cristiano could see what I’m using our money and technology for.
On the monitor before him, security footage played. To most, it was an uneventful scene, partygoers filling the dancefloor and surrounding the bar to eagerly order their drinks. Everyone had filed in to forget their weeks—to dance and drink and fuck away their sorrows.
But Mikko didn’t care about them.
Instead, his sharp eyes had lasered in on a specific timestamp.
Seven thirteen.
The moment he’d glanced at his watch last Friday, and his brain was unable to unsee it. Even now, as he’d fast forwarded through the footage, he’d had an end goal in mind.
On the monitor, he stared at the proof that his interaction with the unknown woman was true and not a dream. Multiple cameras had captured the moment, the shift in time that he was beginning to think was the inception of something new.
There, currently in view of one of the cameras, he leaned against the bar top as he remembered. A snifter glass of vodka was keeping his hands busy, the look on his face pained as people swarmed around him.
He already knew the woman wasn’t in frame yet, the time stamp a couple seconds too soon, but he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep his eyes focused on one spot.
He’d wondered if she’d seen him long before he’d noticed her, her predatory gaze latching onto him before proceeding to approach him.
Or had she simply invaded his space for the fun of it, no other introduction needed.
Counting down the seconds, Mikko watched as she strode into view, her form lithe and slipping between the bodies along the outskirts of the camera angle. Even now, he could seemingly feel the devious intent behind her movements, the sultry prowess she exuded.
Not stopping until she was almost pressed against him—a memory making him shudder in delight—he realized how close she’d been to him. No one ever dared to cross such a blatant boundary, especially with him, but she didn’t care. It was obvious she thought Mikko was beneath her.
A fact that both angered and pulled him in.
In the past, everyone treated him as if he was a bomb ready to explode.
Men either feared or revered him, his reputation well known.
Women usually shied away, concerned with getting mixed up in the grimy underworld.
Or they clung to him like a lost puppy, eager for whatever he could provide them. Anika was none of those options.
Leaning in close, she assessed him like an animal would a piece of meat; she was on the hunt long before he’d even realized it. Another certainty that’d become obvious to him after watching this footage over and over.
More than thirty times to be exact…
Pausing the video again, Mikko inclined his head toward the monitor. Her face was nearly completely obscured by Mikko’s shoulder, but he could still see how her lovely mouth parted while she spoke to him.
And as he remembered—as if his brain could ever let him forget—her hair cascaded over her shoulders in a silky wave of night, all except for one piece. Bright and glowing in the strobe lights, Mikko found himself enraptured again.
Pressing play, he continued to watch the rest of the interaction from this angle, unable to see the way she’d touched him—stoked a fire within his chest. In the moment, he’d thought it’d been his drink, the alcohol burning his throat and making him perceive things differently.
But…
Her gaze flicked to another camera, one Mikko had also combed through, her fuzzy eyes hard to discern, but he knew she’d found his camera. She’d staked them out, gestured to them and given them small, secretive smiles. As if she knew he’d be here now, watching this all back.
Fuck.
He observed her flag down the bartender, the crisp hundred sliding across the bar top, and the smug look on her face as the glass of tequila was pushed his way.
All of it was too much. Mikko’s senses were short circuiting, brain whirring in desperation to uncover the true meaning behind all of this. He had a feeling this woman had ripped a hole in his safeguards, eager to crawl inside his mind and rot.
And he’d done most of the work for her, obsessively watching the footage of their meeting, walking on eggshells at the thought of her turning up at his work or while he walked the busy streets of Portland.
Gritting his teeth, Mikko was annoyed he’d let her in this far, but at the same time, twisted notions were forming in his own mind.
Maybe it was because something about her reminded him of someone else long ago, only this time he’d have a second chance to prove himself.
Or maybe it was the emotional trauma he’d endured all those years ago shoving him toward this woman, his fixations clawing their way out of his chest.
He was going to find out who she was, even if he had to do questionable things to obtain the answer.
It was only right.
She’d done this, she’d poked at him like a human would a bear. Now it was time for him to examine her.
Clutching the leather armrests of his office chair, he realized he was torn between two sides of himself: the logical side and the emotional side.
Logically, Mikko should be wary of this woman, not knowing her intentions.
His family business had been profitable over the years, but not without making enemies along the way.
She could be someone looking to get back at him for his father’s endeavors.
While it hadn’t been Mikko’s doing, or desire for that matter, Alek had destroyed neighborhoods to build a new empire.
Cultures and groups of people had been gentrified, erased all for the sake of raising value and rents and money.
Those kinds of actions were bound to create enemies.
But the emotional side…
Switching to the other camera, Mikko rewatched the entire scene again, her profile clear and her sly smile at the camera lens noticeable. This one was angled at the side of both of them, tucked away behind the bar above the highest shelf displaying alcohol.
This time, he could see the way she touched him.
This time he noticed the way her glossy lips tipped up mischievously.
And he recounted how every time her touch passed over his skin, his hand gripped the new glass of tequila tighter. It was a miracle it hadn’t shattered.
But there was something else Mikko couldn’t place, a deeper provocation in her mannerisms.
A danger.
His line of work had revealed corruption was rooted deep within the despicable, and he knew the signs—like called to like, certain people able to detect the atrocities flowing in the blood of others.
It was like a mirror, shattered and demented.
And whatever horrid things consumed those he worked with, he realized they also devoured her.
His eyes burned from lack of blinking, not wanting to miss a single thing.
You may have waited a long time for me, he internally recalled, but this game has just begun, and my patience is formidable.
Rewinding, Mikko was unable to escape the way she touched him.
As if reliving it each time, he could recall the softness of her hands, adorned with rings and her black nail polish impeccable.
He remembered the way her eyes glittered at his blatant discomfort.
She was enjoying his displeasure, pushing the boundaries to see how far he’d let her go. And he let her cross too many lines.
Cristiano would claim he was being paranoid and delusional. Perhaps he was, but something was off about this woman. And Mikko wasn’t sure if it pissed him off or turned him on. Electricity tainted his blood along with the bitter tang of angst as he kept replaying the security footage.
Who is she? What does she want? Where does she live?
With all these questions piling in his head, her voice and lips forming around his name—one he dreaded because of his father—Mikko was unable to keep his thoughts from plummeting.
A deep carnal hunger, not the kind that could be satiated with food, but something more, flooded his senses while he sat behind his desk.
Something darker.
His cock stiffened, pressing against the zipper of his trousers. All alone, he let his hand drift, palming his erection while watching Anika’s pert figure all but harassed him on screen.
The sun warmed his back as it set behind him, the city skyline swathed in vibrant hues of clementine and scarlet. While he was stuck in his office, the endless frames of the woman in front of him covering his screen made the space tolerable.
Maybe this was how his father had endured it all those years.
He’d found an obsession and let it swallow him whole.
While space and time separated them in this moment, her visage only but a pixelated image, Mikko wanted to be near her again. He wanted to know why she’d stormed into his life and left him questioning things.
It was torturous.
But he was determined to figure it out, to figure her out.
Closing out of the windows he had pulled open, Mikko pushed away from his desk and grabbed his helmet.
While the unnamed woman was too busy taunting him, she’d failed to realize what kind of person he was—what kind of man he could be behind all the stuffy business schemes.
Where he lacked, he made up for it in other areas—other fixations.
The empire his father built may be a terrible weight Mikko had to carry, but it’d shaped him into the man he was now.
For better or worse.
Mikko was going to find her and question her motives. In his world, trust didn’t come easily, so until then, he’d expect the worst.
Unless his possessive nature consumed him first.
Work could wait. Slipping from his office and cloaked in the fading sunset, he patted his jacket pocket to make sure the small bag with the piece of gum was still there. He had a favor to call in, even if it did make him a bit crazy.
Or rather, a predator on the hunt.