Chapter 35 Threaded
Threaded
Mikko
Mikko’s vision blurred, the streets dark and indiscernible, but he couldn’t stop.
Ever since he’d left Anika’s house, he hadn’t been able to slow down, his Audi speeding along the interstate.
His discovery shouldn’t have come as a surprise, her guilty actions and words clearly laying out her plans before him.
But finding something as concrete as Dimitri’s necklace?
It was everything he’d been looking for weeks ago.
The metaphorical blindfold had been ripped from his eyes. And what had she done to him to warrant his necklace being at her house? A wave of jealousy flooded him.
He’d been too consumed with seeing her as someone he couldn’t get out of his head—a beautiful entity ensnaring its prey. Only after it was too late to escape did he see the monster before him.
Fingers shaky, Mikko dialed Cristiano, needing to talk to someone else. He hoped his friend had sobered up enough to be able to tell him he was being dramatic and misreading the evidence. Anything to prove him wrong.
The ringing was loud in his car’s Bluetooth while he waited for Cristiano to pick up. His fingertips drummed the steering wheel, breathing becoming more erratic.
“Hey, what’s up?” Cristiano’s sleepy voice came through the car speakers. He sounded sober enough, and Mikko’s breath of relief was audible. “Everything okay?”
“I—” Mikko’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s Anika.”
“What?”
“Anika is the one killing our men.” Mikko’s car shifted with a rumble as the dashed lines of the highway blurred. “Dimitri included even though we haven’t found his body yet.”
“I—wow, okay…” he trailed off, the sleepy tone in his voice completely gone now.
Mikko’s hands gripped the steering wheel, the leather creaking beneath his fingers. “I found Dimitri’s necklace. In her house.”
Silence greeted Mikko after his words were out there. Only the dimmed sound of the road beneath his tires kept him company.
“Oh. Oh, that doesn’t look good.” There was rustling as Cristiano sat up in bed and the crinkle of a water bottle as he drank. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll meet you over at your penthouse.”
“No.” The word was sharp, quick. “No, she’s been there and who knows what she did to the place. We cannot trust her.” Mikko took a deep breath, exiting from the highway, needing to find a dark street corner to sit in. Driving while the pieces were falling into place was a dangerous idea.
Cristiano’s voice broke him out of his brief mental fog. “Okay, come over, and we will figure out what to do next, yeah?”
Mikko nodded, then realized his friend couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
* * *
CRISTIANO’S APARTMENT OVERLOOKED a different portion of the city than Mikko’s, a fact he used to distract his mind as his friend poured him both a glass of ice water and a generous amount of vodka.
“Here you go,” Cristiano handed him both glasses, motioning for him to drink some of the water first. They sat on Cristiano’s couch, his living room masculine but more plush than Mikko’s.
His friend enjoyed colorful accents and unique patterns lending themselves to his laid back personality and adventurous side.
Prints hung from the walls and curated abstract art lined every surface his friend could place something. It was a nice change from Mikko’s own stark penthouse.
And it was a space that hadn’t been tainted by Anika.
“Does Levi know?” Cristiano asked as soon as Mikko finished his water, setting the glass onto a nearby coaster.
Mikko scrubbed his face with his hands. “If he does, it’s not because I told him.”
“Do we use him as a pawn against her?” Cristiano took a sip of his drink—a steaming cup of tea to most likely ease his headache from earlier.
“Potentially, unless she has the ability to turn him against us.”
“It is known he favored Alek and his methods,” Cristiano started. “Always preaching to anyone who’d listen that you’d eventually run this business into the ground with your,” he gestured vaguely in the air, “ways.”
Rage flowed through Mikko’s veins at his friend’s words.
Cristiano was right. Levi, while working for Mikko for years now, had never been shy about his beliefs and feelings toward the newest Romanov.
It was a topic they’d butted heads about, but in the end Mikko hadn’t cared enough to fully take care of the man.
Knowing the enemy was imperative, and killing him reminded Mikko of something his father would do, so he let him live.
It was a thought that made the words Levi had whispered to him at a work event years ago flash across his mind. “You rule with a soft hand, one that isn’t meant for this city.”
“She could be keeping him around to annoy me too,” Mikko mused, a short, sarcastic huff breaking the tension.
Cristiano’s eyebrows furrowed. “Or he’s next.”
Mikko pondered that before a more devastating thought formed. “One way to find out.”
“I know that look.”
“Let’s see if he still thinks he can snatch the metaphorical crown from my head,” Mikko took another sip. “If he thinks he can run the city better than me—do work dirtier than me so people fear him—let’s see how he handles Anika.”
“And maybe she won’t see it coming from him until it’s too late.”