Chapter 18
LEV
Ileave Mari at the penthouse with orders to work from there. This morning, she doesn’t even put up a fight. Either our feast from last night is catching up with her or the morning sickness is. Either way, she doesn’t seem too sad about staying home. At least for now.
By noon, I’m in the war room at Levcon with Yuri, Marcus, and Pavel.
I’ve got the banking documents pulled up on the projector, and we go over them together.
All three work for Levcon and the Bratva, so I can trust them to look at these figures and give it to me straight.
If we do have a mole in our camp, we need as much evidence as possible to weed them out.
“Walk me through it again,” I ask Pavel, who’s shockingly good with numbers.
Pavel taps on one of the accounts.
“The siphon started about three years ago. Ten to twenty grand at a time, buried in vendor batches. The pattern changed about six months ago. Bigger pulls, timed to quarter close. The total missing now sits at five point six million.”
“Where does it land?” I ask.
“Three layers through cutouts,” he says. “We thought Kozlov at first, but it doesn’t fit their footprint. The last hop pings to a trust that buys heavy equipment in Newark. That trust is managed by a boutique firm in Brooklyn that reports advisory work for a Petrov holding.”
“Which Petrov?” I ask.
“Not the main family,” Pavel says. “A cousin camp that handles their expansion money. I’ve got two names on paper, both clean on first pass. No arrests. No public flags. They show up at charity nights and courtside seats.”
“Do we have a source on the inside?” I ask Marcus.
He shakes his head. “They’ve blacked out all outsiders. They’re extremely cautious. Their security turnover is high. They have new guards and new drivers every three months. They’re running routes I don’t recognize.”
“Can you get me a meeting?” I ask him.
“With who?” Marcus asks pointedly. “The Petrov who smiles for cameras, or the one who signs back-alley deals? They’re two sides of the same coin.”
“Both,” I say. “In sequence.”
Yuri leans forward. “The Delancey hit and the photo at the gate could be cover, just noise. If this is Petrov, they’re trying to edge into our cash while we’re looking at Kozlov.”
“Or it’s Kozlov wearing Petrov skin,” Pavel says. “We’ve seen that trick before. They’re starting a conflict with us to hide that they’re warring with each other.”
“We need a name I can put on a wall,” I say. “No more circling. I want the person inside my house who’s helping this happen.”
Pavel nods. “I’m pulling every badge swipe from accounting, ops, and vendor management for the last twelve months. I’ve got a list of people who touched these batches. We can narrow by who was in the building during each siphon. It’s tedious, but we’ll find them.”
“It isn’t tedious,” I correct. “It’s necessary.”
Marcus clears his throat. “We should talk about the restaurant breach from yesterday,” he reminds us. “That was a bold hit in daylight.”
“We’ll address it,” I say. “After I know who to pin it on.”
I have to weed out the threat to my family and, at the same time, find the threat to my business. I’m praying it’s the same threat. It’s possible the Petrovs and Kozlovs are working together to bring me down, and I can’t let that stand.
“Let’s go over next steps,” I say.
“I’ll keep pulling threads on the trust,” Pavel says. “I’ll get you the human behind the paperwork.”
“I’ve got the security tapes from the attack,” Yuri says next. “We can see if we can match any of the guys there to Pavel’s logs. Even if not, it’ll be good to ID the shooters.”
I nod and look to Marcus.
“I’ve already locked down vendor adds and frozen the budget,” he confirms. “Nothing gets through without two signatures. Mine and yours.”
“Good,” I say. “At least we won’t need to worry about more money leaving the company. Go on, then.”
I dismiss them, but Yuri stays back, wanting a private word. As my second-in-command, he’s the only one who can ask for my unscheduled time.
“Say it.” I sigh warily, already sure he’s going to give me a lecture.
“You’re running hot,” he observes. “You’re snapping at people who don’t deserve it. Poor Marcus is just trying to help out, and you nearly bit his head off.”
“I’m allowed to be stressed,” I say.
“Of course you’re allowed,” he agrees. “It’s still sloppy.”
I look at him. He looks back, his gaze steady.
“I told them to find me a name,” I say. “They will.”
“They will,” he agrees. He studies my face, then my hands, then the phone I haven’t checked in ten minutes. “How’s Mari?”
“She’s fine,” I answer too quickly.
“I notice she isn’t here. Are you making her work from the penthouse?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say shortly, already knowing where he’s headed with this.
“And she didn’t argue with you about it?” he probes, knowing more than most how stubborn she can be.
“No. She accepted it pretty well,” I say.
He nods once. The silence stretches.
“And that has nothing to do with where we found her yesterday?” he asks, far more observant than most.
Maybe not more observant, actually. Maybe just bolder in his line of questioning. The other men wouldn’t dare wonder why we found Mari at an OB-GYN when she was supposed to be at the dentist. They either don’t care, or they don’t want to incur my wrath by asking.
Yuri has no qualms about this. He tilts his head, like he already knows the answer.
“Mari’s pregnant,” I finally breathe out.
He blinks at me, waiting for me to continue. When I don’t, he asks, “Is it yours?”
I don’t think. I hit him square in the mouth. I don’t wind it up, so there’s not much force behind it, but there’s enough to make a point. Blood beads at the corner of his mouth. He wipes it with his thumb and lets out a short, low laugh.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.
“What the hell kind of question is that?” I snap.
“A reasonable one,” he answers. “You don’t do domestic. You don’t usually sleep with a woman more than once. So either she’s someone very special or you were dumb enough not to use protection.”
“I’m not having this conversation,” I say.
“You already are,” he says. “So let’s talk about what’s really important here. You’re in love with her.”
I stare at him blankly, refusing to process his words.
“I protect what’s mine,” I growl. “She’s carrying my child. My heir. That makes her invaluable to me.”
“You just punched me because the idea that she’d be with someone else made you see red,” he observes. “That’s not about protection or honor or an heir. You’re so crazy about her, it’s sending you into a blind rage.”
“Get back to work,” I grumble. “Find me the traitor so I can deal with him.”
“I’m on it.” He smiles. “The sooner we find the threat, the sooner you can admit your feelings for Mari.”
He leaves. I sit alone for a minute. I pull out my phone and check the feed from the penthouse.
She’s at the table in my kitchen, laptop open, papers in a neat stack.
There’s ginger ale beside her and a bowl of crackers.
She’s in sweats and a T-shirt. Her hair is up.
I feel the ache for her hit me in the chest. I hate the feeling, and I want more of it.
At six, I’m in the elevator going up to the penthouse. The guards at the door immediately step aside when they see me. I walk into the kitchen and stop.
She’s exactly where the camera showed her.
Crackers and a ginger ale on the table next to her, her laptop open, one bare foot tucked under her.
She’s clever and brave in a way that knocks me off my feet.
I was desperate to get home to her, but now that I’m here, I’m afraid to trust the feeling building in my chest. I can’t love her.
Love is deadly in my world. Love is weakness.
She looks up and blinks like she wasn’t expecting me this early.
“You’re home,” she says, a grin breaking across her face. It instantly melts away all my stress and fear, and I have to stop myself from overanalyzing it.
“I am,” I say, keeping it casual.
Her eyes move over my face like she’s taking inventory. “Did you have a bad day?”
“Same old, same old.” I shrug. “What about you?”
She shrugs back. “I just reconciled some old reports for you,” she says. “Nothing very exciting.”
I nod, just drinking her in. Even in sweats and a T-shirt, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
It’s impulsive and stupid, but I’m struck with a sudden urge to scoop her up and carry her back to my bed again.
I want to feel her underneath me, to hear the sounds of pleasure roll through her.
“What?” she asks with a small laugh, taking me in.
“Stand up,” I tell her in a husky voice.
Her eyes grow a little darker, and for once, mercifully, she doesn’t argue with me. She just stands, watching me, waiting for my next move.
“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously.
I don’t answer. I put my hands on her waist and lift.
She gasps. The sound shoots straight through me.
I settle her against my chest like she weighs nothing.
Her arms fly around my neck on instinct.
Her eyes search mine. There’s heat there.
There’s surprise. There’s trust she probably doesn’t want to have.
“Lev,” she murmurs, and the way she says my name tells me enough.
“I’m taking you to bed,” I say. My voice is even, though my heart is pounding in my chest.
“Right now?” she asks skeptically.
“Now.”