Chapter 19 #2
It means I now have two problems, and one of them is sitting beside me in black denim, pretending she doesn’t matter more.
Galina turns her head and watches me for a second. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“The one where your face goes completely blank, and I know you’re deciding whether to kill someone.”
I take the next turn and say, “When we get to Baron’s, you call your father. Video call. Don’t give him a chance to wiggle out of it.”
She nods. No fight. “He will hang up on me.”
“Probably. But he needs to know you know what he is planning.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “And if he doesn’t talk?”
“Then I’ll make him regret it later.”
She gives me a look at that, but she doesn’t argue, which I find oddly relieving.
I don’t have room for arguments right now.
My head is split between the warning Voran just shoved into my hands and the fact that Viktor Rusanov may be moving his niece through my uncle’s territory under the cover of my wedding.
By the time I swing through the gates of Baron’s house, my jaw is aching from how hard I’ve been clenching it. Security opens up fast. They know my car. They know my mood, too, probably. It’s hard to miss.
I pull up in the driveway and kill the engine.
Galina looks at me. “Do you want me to wait in the car while you tell him?”
“No. You’re coming in. If your dad knows you are in Baron’s house, it will throw him off.”
“Nothing throws my dad off. I need to do this alone.”
“I know. I’ll set you up in Auntie’s sewing room.”
She nods once and gets out before I can come around her side. I let it go because I’ve got bigger problems than manners. Grisha and Yuri get out of the Range Rover, scanning everything with that harder edge now. Good. If lines are compromised, I want everyone twitchy.
Inside, Grigor takes one look at my face and straightens at once.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“In the study.”
“Good.” I cut my gaze to Galina. “Go with Darya to Irina’s sewing room. Don’t leave that room until I come get you.”
She nods, but hesitates for one beat. “Don’t start a war before I make the call.”
“No promises,” I mutter.
Her mouth twitches. Then she goes with the housekeeper, and I force myself to turn away instead of watching her disappear upstairs.
Grigor opens the study door without knocking.
Baron is behind his desk, glasses low on his nose, looking over paperwork. He glances up, sees me, and his expression goes flat. “Who died?”
“No one. Yet,” I say, shutting the door behind me. “But I’ve just had Voran send his men to tail me through traffic to deliver a message because apparently phones are now too mainstream for this extended family.”
Baron removes his glasses slowly and leans back in his chair. “Start again.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” I say, sinking into one of the chairs opposite his desk. “Voran says Karpov is, and I quote, ‘making a move’.”
“Konstantin? Why? On who? Us?”
I shrug. “That is literally all I got with the instruction to tell you.”
Baron stares at me for a long moment, and I know that look. It’s the one he gets when he is sorting through information and deciding who dies first.
“That’s it,” he says flatly. “That’s the whole message.”
“And Voran couldn’t call me directly.”
“Apparently not.”
His jaw tightens once. He stands and moves to the window, hands behind his back. “Someone’s listening.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “The message came through Voran’s man. Semyon Arkan. You know him?”
“Vaguely. He’s reliable. Voran wouldn’t send someone unreliable.” He moves back to the desk and sits. “Karpov is an ambitious son-of-a-bitch, but it would help if we knew who he was planning to move against. If it’s us, he should know better.”
“And if it’s the Baranovs? Auntie Irina will go to war for her family, Baron. Does that include you? Us?”
Baron’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts behind his eyes. “If it’s the Baranovs, yes. Irina’s family is this family. Karpov knows that.”
“Does he?”
“He should.” He picks up a pen and sets it down again, a rare tell. “Konstantin Karpov is not stupid enough to move against both families simultaneously. He’d need backing I’m not aware of.”
“And if someone gave it to him?”
Baron looks at me directly. “Who?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” I lean back. “The warning came through a tail in traffic instead of a phone call because someone thinks the lines aren’t clean. That means one of two things. Either Voran is being paranoid, or he has a reason to be paranoid.”
“Where is Galina?”
The change of subject is deliberate. I know him well enough to recognise when he is processing and needs a moment to think without me watching him. “Irina’s sewing room. She needs to make a call.”
He accepts that because phone calls behind locked doors are standard in this business. But then his gaze pins mine, and I feel like I’m five years old. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve known you too long for you to lie to me, Laszlo.”
I sigh and sit back. “It’s got nothing to do with Karpov or the Baranovs.”
“But?”
“It has to do with Viktor Rusanov and why he wants access to that corridor.”
His face goes colder. “Start talking.”