Chapter 32 Vassili
VASSILI
Early morning wind from the San Andreas mountains slapped a sun umbrella across the stone pavers and into the infinity pool. It splashed like a body falling—too loud for morning peace. A maid rushed to fish it out as a text popped up on my phone.
BORYA: She slept over at Lachlan’s. Should I do something? You didn’t respond last night.
A dry, amused chuckle escaped me. As if Cutie Pie were still a girl in pigtails, her shadow dreaded the worst. Suppose that was my fault.
ME: She’s not a child. Tell me if they have an issue.
I pressed send.
“ ‘K?zn,” Yuri called out as he strode the length of the pool, dark hair mussed from sleep, jaw tight.
My eyes rolled. “Bad news?”
He gave a single nod. “Da. US military database breached. Registered unauthorized access. Surveillance trace pinged nearby too. Marine operations. Triggered an internal alert.”
I raised a brow. “Name?”
“Corporal Rainita Howard. Cyber ops.”
I stared across the Hills while the name hung in the air.
The name meant nothing. No red flag. No whispers from my CIA contacts.
Not on FSB radar. Not advised by my Interpol friend, who often updated me on the watchlist. It was a ghost name.
Unremarkable. That bothered me more than losing my belt years ago.
Anatoly had wanted to kill the fighter. I’d wanted to meet him in the cage again.
Louis “The Legion” lost my belt to some chump before I could vindicate myself.
“Yuri, you tell Sim?”
My cousin hesitated. “Nyet. Your brat. You call him.”
Smart. “Was she acting alone?”
“Can’t say. Our contact said she’s skilled. The second they identified the breach, the system corrupted. But I’ve been told it was a targeted inquiry. Rainita Howard searched for you. Specifically.”
I narrowed my eyes, squeezed my handgrip strengthening tool, which I’d kept since my days in the octagon. “Howard didn’t target the organization?”
Yuri swallowed hard. “Nyet. Just you.”
Silence coiled around my ribs. That was the problem. The bratva had enemies. But someone just pulled the trigger on surveillance that close to home? To me?
My gaze tracked the edge of my estate again. No security team patrolled the Hills. No rifles glinted under the gray morning. None of that. I prided myself on that.
“Rainita Howard means nothing. She’s a tool.” I sipped tea and set it down with care. “Find the hand.”
I picked up my other cellphone. Ancient. Voice only, no app, no other connections. Limited to family and trusted circles. “Yuri, call Borya. Increase Natasha’s protection. Let it be known she’s safe with our MacKenzie associates.”
Yuri raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”
“Da.” I didn’t blink. “She’s allowed to fall in love. The additional detail is not to engage unless necessary. Borya remains the only visible asset to her.”
Yuri completed a slow nod of understanding. “Da.”
I found the number in my head and dialed Simeon. The phone rang. I muttered, “He better not have done anything stupid again.”
We hadn’t clashed since Moldova. But Sim was Sim. Dangerous. Brilliant. Unpredictable. He acted in absolutes, swathed in ideology, launching cleansing acts of violence.
The call connected, and I spoke in Russian. “I am your left hand …”
“I am your right hand,” Simeon replied without hesitation. The code. The trust. The bond.
“You know a Rainita Howard?”
“Rainita? Howard?” The words floated around. “Nyet.”
“You sure?”
“You doubt me, brat?” Simeon snapped.
I let out a breath. “Just making sure you haven’t pissed off someone who now wants me dead … again.”
He paused. “I’ve been quiet. Focused on family.”
“And Moldova?” I snorted, half-sarcastic.
“Do not start.”
“Then keep it that way. She’s Marine Corps. Cyber. Breached a protected system. Scrubbed it clean after running a targeted inquiry on me. I washed my hands of the bratva as a teenager. Nyet. I never joined. You wanted this. I did not.”
“I know, brat. Thank you for joining me.” Simeon sucked in a breath. “Do you suspect Howard acted alone? Could she be … a Resnov Castle Girl? Nyet. Forget I mentioned that.”
“Ask Anastasiya.” I thought on it. Simeon’s wife grew up in one of our old castles. Anatoly had the little girls groomed. The repulsive old men sought girls trained with certain criteria and a specially tailored list of their own personal desires.
“I’ll ask the second Anastasiya returns from the greenhouse. It’s her place. It’ll be a while.”
Was this Howard a vengeful Castle Girl? Anastasiya had founded an organization for the children, discovered some of their families, and provided the rest with homes.
“Are my niece and nephew safe?” Simeon asked.
“Da.” Vassilievich? Zariah had said I protected my Natasha a lot more than him. When she said it, though, sounded more like coddling. Did I admit it? Nyet. Was it true? Eh.
“Come home, Vassili.”
“This is my home.” A growl infused into my voice, and a spring jolted from my tool and bounced onto the ground. The contraption crumpled in my hand. Great. I’d broken another.
Simeon laughed, deep and Russian. “Okay. Okay.”
I clicked the burner phone shut and stared toward the sun, gold slicing the fog.
Someone was watching me. That would be their last mistake.