Vadim
Ivan stares at me over the kitchen island.
I stare back.
Neither of us flinches.
Eventually, I let out a breath. “I suppose you were protecting her.”
“Quite.”
“But you should’ve told me.”
“She asked me not to.”
“Who pays you?”
He shrugs as if this is of no consequence. The trouble is, it’s not. He could leave here for half the money I pay him and be fine. I, on the other hand, would not be fine, and we both know it.
Bastard.
He gives me a smug smile. “Thought so.”
“You’re walking a fine line,” I grumble.
“No, I’m not.”
“Keep pushing.”
He simply turns away. “I will not take sides, but if Mrs Voronova asks me to keep something to myself, I will, unless it actively causes her danger or harm. This little upstart with bratty tendencies is nothing.”
“That is your fair and honest assessment?”
“It is. Or I would’ve come to you.”
“I hate when you’re reasonable.”
“I know.”
“You enjoy it.”
“Deeply.” Ivan reaches for my empty glass. “Do you want another?”
“No.” I glance toward the hallway. “Where is Bogdan?”
“Office.”
I leave the kitchen and head for the office.
The house has settled into late night around us.
Staff move with the quiet efficiency I pay for, and Ivan enforces.
Security has doubled without looking doubled.
Cameras run clean. Gates stay locked. Arseny Kaverin is at Baron’s, drinking vodka and pretending he isn’t calculating how long before he gets to see the daughter he abandoned by mistake or stupidity.
Pavel is dead.
Tarasov is as good as dead.
Bogdan stands by my desk, looking like he is facing the firing squad.
“What did you do?” I ask.
He gestures to the folder on my desk.
“Someone die?”
He doesn’t answer, so I pick up the folder, not knowing what to expect. I open it to another old photo of Baron and his younger brother, Ivor, who died a long time ago. I was still young then, barely a teenager. I blink and frown at it, peering more closely. Then I look up at Bogdan.
“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me?”
He shakes his head. “Arseny Kaverin sent it to me.”
I fling it on the desk as I huff out a breath. “We’re cousins?”
“Seems so.”
“You’re a Voronov? Ivor was your dad? How?”
“Had an affair with my mother.”
Okay, I walked into that one. “Useful clarification,” I say. “I was wondering if she found you under a cabbage.”
Bogdan gives me a flat look.
I sit behind my desk and drag the photo closer.
Ivor Voronov. Baron’s younger brother. Dead for years.
Murdered in a car bombing, if the family version is to be believed.
The kind of death that turns into legend because no one wants to admit how easy it is to blow powerful men apart when they start believing power makes them untouchable.
Fuck.
“How long have you known?” I ask.
“I didn’t.”
“You never suspected?”
“My mother never spoke of him.”
“Name?”
“Anya Markova.”
“And Arseny just happened to put two and two together from staring at you for all of a few minutes?”
“Seems so.”
“Does Baron know?” I ask, but I already know the answer. Bogdan wouldn’t be standing in front of me with this if he didn’t.
“I just got back from there. We spoke.”
“And?”
“He knew Ivor had an affair. He didn’t know he had a second family.”
“You have a sister, right? Ksenia?”
He nods.
“She is also?”
“Yep.”
“How do you know?”
“I spoke to my mother. She confessed everything. In front of Baron.”
“Hm. Okay, well, I guess we’ll find your replacement soon.”
“Why?”
“My cousin doesn’t work for me. You are a Voronov. Baron will take that seriously.”
He lifts his chin and exhales through his nose. “I’m fine where I am.”
“Unlikely to make much difference. Have you met Baron?”
He snorts but then glares at me like it’s my fault.
“Where is your sister now?”
“Russia,” he says flatly. “Ask no more questions.”
As if. But then I give him a searching stare and keep my mouth shut. “Fine. For now.”
He nods once and leans over to pick up the file. “I’ll start searching for a replacement.”
“Good man,” I state. “This is a lot wilder than I expected when I walked in here.”
He doesn’t get to reply because the short sound of a siren outside stops us both in our tracks.
“Shit,” I mutter and go to the window.
“I’ll go,” Bogdan says and dumps the folder on the side table as he walks out.
I know exactly why the police are here, and I’ve been expecting it.
They are here for Tai.
I leave the office with controlled steps. Running gives police confidence they don’t deserve. Ivan appears, his expression calm.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Upstairs. Television on.”
His eyes flick toward the front of the house. He heard the siren too. “How many?”
“One car, from the sound of it.”
“Then they are either very stupid or very polite.”
“Police are rarely polite.”
I reach the front hall as Bogdan opens the door.
Rain blows in, cold against the polished floor.
Two uniformed officers stand under the portico with a plainclothes detective between them.
The detective is mid-forties, tired face, cheap coat, careful eyes.
He takes one look at Bogdan, then past him to me.
“Mr Voronov.”
“You’re waking my house.”
“It’s barely ten.”
“And?”
He holds up his badge. “Detective Inspector Mark Ellis. We need to speak with Taisiya Korotayeva.”
“About?”
“Gregor Melnikov.”
I step outside and close the door behind me, forcing the officers to take a step back into the rain. “What about him?”
“We are not at liberty to discuss that with you.”
“I suggest you find the liberty because you aren’t getting anywhere near my wife until I’m satisfied as to why.”
“Wife?” he frowns.
“Civil partnership.”
“Legal?”
“Close enough.”
He smirks. “We’ll see Miss Korotayeva now.”
I smile at him.
Bogdan goes still beside me.
Ivan, from inside the hall, makes the kind of silence that means he is already deciding which tea service to use when this becomes irritating.
“You’ll see Mrs Voronova when I decide you’ve earned it,” I say.
Ellis looks past my shoulder at the closed door. “We can do this the easy way.”
“I doubt that.”
One of the uniforms shifts his weight. Young. Nervous. His hand hovers near his radio because men in uniform confuse equipment with authority.
Ellis keeps his eyes on me and makes his decision. “We have reason to believe Miss Korotayeva may have information relevant to an ongoing murder investigation.”
“Then send a request through my lawyer. Roman Voronov.”
The name hits him in the nuts, and he grimaces. “She isn’t under arrest.”
“Good. Then she doesn’t need to talk to you.”
“That isn’t how this works.”
“It is at my house.”
His jaw tightens. “Mr Voronov, I understand your family has a certain reputation.”
“Choose your next words wisely.”
“Always. That’s why I’m here with two uniforms and not an entry team.”
“You don’t have enough paper for an entry team.”
“No,” he says. “Not yet.”
I step closer. He doesn’t retreat this time. He has some backbone. Annoying.
“Then get off my property until you do.”
“Not happening. Move, Mr Voronov, before this gets ugly.”
Bogdan steps forward, but I hold a hand up.
“This got ugly the second you were let through my gates.”
“I’ll ask one more time, Mr Voronov, and then I will be forced to arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
“Oh, you really don’t want to do that.”
Ellis’ eyes sharpen. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s free advice.”
“Step aside.”
“No.”
The young uniform speaks into his radio, low and quick. Bogdan tracks the movement without turning his head. I hear the front door open behind me.
“Vadim?” Tai’s voice cuts through the rain.
Every muscle in my body locks.
I turn enough to see her standing in the doorway in an oversized jumper and leggings, hair up, face pale, ring visible on her hand. Ivan stands just behind her, looking seriously pissed off that she got past him.
“Go back upstairs,” I say.
She looks past me at the police. “Are they here for me?”
“They want to ask questions.”
Her throat moves. She steps forward anyway.
“Tai,” I warn.
She ignores me and comes out under the portico, bare feet on the cold stone, because this woman has no survival instinct when her temper wakes up. “I’m Taisiya Korotayeva.”
Ellis shifts his attention to her. “Miss Korotayeva, I’m Detective Inspector Ellis. We’d like to speak with you about Gregor Melnikov.”
I want to put her behind me and snap the detective’s wrist for looking at her too long.
“What about him?”
“He was found murdered, and your name has come up in the investigation.”
“Has it?”
Ellis looks pleased with himself. I want to remove that expression from his face.
“It has,” he says. “We have CCTV of Mr Melnikov at the bar where you work. He left at the same time you did a few nights ago.”
“And?”
“And then he turned up dead. Stabbed in the neck.”
“And you think I have something to do with this?” she asks.
“Tai,” I warn her quietly.
“We are trying to figure out what happened to the dead man, Miss Korotayeva.”
“Well, you will have to do without me,” she says. “I have no idea.”
Ellis stares at her. Tai stares back.
“When was this?” I ask.
“Four nights ago.”
“She was with me. I picked her up after her shift.”
Tai’s gaze shoots to mine, but she says nothing.
“You picked her up,” Ellis says. “Convenient. What time?”
“Late.”
“That’s vague.”
“I wasn’t aware I had to note the exact time.”
Tai shifts beside me. Her bare foot presses against the wet stone, toes curling from the cold.
Ellis turns back to her. “Can you confirm Mr Voronov picked you up?”
She lifts her chin. “He did.”
“At what time?”
“After my shift.”
“Did you leave with Mr Melnikov?”
“No.”
“CCTV says otherwise.”
Her eyes narrow. “No, it really doesn’t. If he walked out after me, that’s not my problem.”
Ellis studies her for a beat too long. “You understand how this looks.”
“I understand how you want it to look,” she fires back. “That’s different.”
My wife has no sense of self-preservation.
I love it.
I hate it.
I step closer to her, not blocking her, because she will only get more furious if I do. “Detective, you’ve had your answer.”
Ellis doesn’t blink. “Miss Korotayeva, did Gregor Melnikov threaten you?”
Tai goes still.
I feel it before I see it. The slight change in her breathing. The anger under her skin turns into something colder.
“Why would you ask that?” she says.
“Because there are witness statements suggesting he had been bothering you at work.”
“I can’t even place a face to the name, so you’ll forgive me if I appear confused.”
“Right,” Ellis says.
“This conversation is over,” I say.
“I’d like the proof that you were with Miss Korotayeva, Mr Voronov. The sooner, the better for both of you.” He steps back, and I let him go.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
“I hope so.”
The police leave slowly, because men like Ellis enjoy pretending departure is strategy rather than retreat.
I watch the car reverse down my drive, blue lights off now, tyres hissing over wet brick. The gates close behind them. Only then do I turn to Tai.
She is standing barefoot on freezing stone, chin up, face pale, eyes too bright.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask.
“What the fuck was what?”
“You coming outside.”
“They asked for me.”
“They asked. I said no.”
“I heard. Then I decided I wasn’t going to hide upstairs while you got arrested for obstructing justice.”
“I wouldn’t have been arrested.”
“Because you’re magic?”
“Because I have lawyers.”
She gives me a look that could strip paint. “Lawyers arrive after handcuffs, Vadim.”
Bogdan makes a low sound.
“Not now, cousin.”
Tai looks at Bogdan with a raised eyebrow, then at me. “I didn’t say anything stupid.”
“You lied to a detective on my doorstep.”
“So did you.”
“I’m better at it.”
“Congratulations. Want a biscuit?”
Ivan appears with a towel in his hands. I snatch it off him and throw it at her feet.
She glares at me, but dries them off. “So what now, genius? I didn’t even know you then, let alone have you pick me up after my shift.”
“We close ranks. It’s simple.”
“Not really. I went back to my flat alone. I’m sure they can figure that out in two seconds flat.”
“I didn’t say we leave it to chance.”
Tai’s jaw tightens. “You can’t rewrite London.”
“I can rewrite enough of it.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“That’s what being a Voronov is.” I turn to Bogdan. “Get Roman onto it.”
Bogdan nods once.
Tai looks between us. “Who is Roman, and how does this help?”
“My cousin. Baron’s eldest son. He is a lawyer and a damn good one. This isn’t his usual case, but his name will terrify most of the Met anyway.”
She blinks, tears filling her eyes before she turns away and runs up the stairs.
I watch her go and, after a few seconds, follow her up.