Chapter 31
LEON
CHERRY WAVES - DEFTONES
“Ithink we should frame these.” I spread out the physical copies of Niko and Dimitri’s hits next to Liv’s, my eyes pinging between them line by line, comparing the handwriting with an arched brow. “I love the personalized stationery. The letterhead makes it look so professional.”
“Would you stop fucking around?” Dimitri hisses as he empties another drawer. “We need to find the rest of those files so we can get the hell out of here.”
I wave him off as I plop down behind Boris’ desk, rolling the chair forward while I lean closer to the paperwork in front of me. He definitely keeps detailed records, the fucking orders are a cross between a birth certificate and death certificate, and a page out of the census records.
Whatever information he found, whatever facts he dug up on a target like Liv, or in this case, his son and stepson, it’s spelled out in great detail.
Family tree, birthdate, hometown and current location, schooling and work history.
There’s a spot for the transaction and original party requesting the hit, but according to D, there’s a separate document for that as well as something that specifies who was to carry out the execution, what weapon they used, etc.
It’s a ridiculous amount of information to have for someone who’s about to die, but I have to give him credit for being so thorough.
Thorough, but stupid.
“You know these two are forgeries, right?”
I hear the three of them stop rummaging through cabinets and drawers rather than see it, but I don’t bother looking up. Instead, I stay fixated on the minor, nearly undetectable differences between D and Niko’s love notes, and Liv’s.
“What do you mean forgeries?” Our omega whispers as he quickly rounds the desk and comes to stand behind me.
I nod as he grabs the back of my chair and leans over my shoulder as I slowly trace Boris’ signature on the two newer documents before doing the same on the older.
“It’s barely noticeable but the pressure is different, the loops were made at a slightly different angle.
They aren’t as fluid even if they appear that way.
This was a practiced hand versus an experienced one. ”
Niko puts his palm on the desk and leans until his face is about an inch or two from the paper, staring until he sees what I do. “Holy shit, you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Hardly, but this one you nailed.”
“Grab me another hit from at least five years ago, if not further back.” I hold out my hand and motion for someone to quickly honor my request, my eyes still glued to the desk. “And one no older than a year.”
A few seconds later, I have both, and the difference between all five is clear.
Boris didn’t issue the hits on Dimitri or Niko. Not the handwritten ones, but they’re close enough for him to have thought he wrote them at some point, and that’s why they still went out to his thugs.
“Who is… Sergey Orlov?”
Niko grunts, “I don’t know,” as D almost barks, “Alexei’s brother.”
I frown and slowly lift my eyes to face him. “Alexei Pushkin?”
Dimitri nods.
“Your cousin?”
Another.
“His brother is Sergey Orlov?”
“Are you having a stroke?” he asks, annoyed and becoming more so as he goes back to the cabinet he and Styx have all but dismantled, the urgency returning to his search.
“Serg is older by a few years, he got out before Boris had my mother and their parents killed and when he did, he changed his name. I haven’t seen him in at least two decades. ”
That makes sense.
Protection, separation. Whatever the reason, I can’t blame him for it.
“That’s the newer one, right?” our beta asks as he stops on the paper in his hand.
“It is.”
“I just found one for Pushkin.”
Bingo.
I had a feeling we might find something along these lines the second we heard Mia Kozlov was behind Nikolai’s hit.
I’d put money on her being the sole conspirator behind these as well, and if either of my mates have any more family scattered around, I’ll bet my left nut we’ll find more death warrants.
Which means mommy has been very busy since her bouncing baby boy disappeared.
“Is she left handed?”
Niko looks at me with a surprised smirk. “How did you know that?”
I nod and go back to the puzzle pieces as they come together. “Boris is not, I take it?”
“No,” D grunts as he tosses the drawer in his hand and goes right to the next.
“She’s forging the hits.” I quickly collect the four of importance on the desk and fold them up, tucking them into the back pocket of my leathers as I stand. “Mia. She’s trying to systematically wipe out anyone who has claim to the Volkov Bratva in any way.”
Clever, rabid, lying rat.
“I’ll take the one on Pushkin and I have the transactions on all five.” Styx holds them up before doing the same thing I did. “What else do we need?”
“These.” Niko waves what I’m guessing is the final piece of paperwork for the only relevant records then pauses. “Didn’t you say something about foreign accounts and missing money?”
“He did.” I cross the room quickly, going right for my laptop as the gears really start turning. “If I can get on the house wifi, I can hack my way into any hard drive that’s tapped into it, and I can do you one better than paper copies.”
A few minutes later, and I’m doing just that.
It looks like mommy has been syphoning cash from her man for years, about fifteen from my calculations, and she’s got a nest egg well into the millions.
Not for long.
Technically, that money belongs to Dimitri, or, it will once we kill Boris, and with a few taps of the keys, it’s transferring into a brand new, shiny offshore account under the name, Oliver R. Gladdersov.
I’m so goddamn brilliant I surprise myself at times.
“We have fifteen minutes,” I say as I get to my feet, scanning the room for the first time since we broke in through the big ass picture window. “Who decorated this place?”
“Fifteen minutes until what, love?”
“The drapes are very medieval while the furniture says I’ve always wanted to be a hospital administrator.”
“Leon?” Styx whispers as I put my hands on my hips and turn in a slow circle. “Fifteen minutes until what?”
I tilt my head back and follow the architecture with my eyes. “The vaulted ceilings are nice, but the crown molding looks like shit.” I point to said molding. “It was Boris, wasn’t it? He doesn’t strike me as someone with very good taste in literally anything.”
“Leonidas,” Niko hisses through clenched teeth.
I tilt my head from side to side as I read through some of the titles on the bookshelves, slightly impressed but more shocked by what I see. “Okay, maybe he has decent taste in classic literature but that’s where it stops. Eh, he has a few nice cars, too, but—”
“Fifteen minutes until what?!” D shouts as he chucks a throw pillow at me. “We didn’t have all day to begin with but you’re fucking with whatever deadline you slapped on us now.”
Right. “Fifteen minutes until I’ve drained Mia’s secret accounts as well as their joint ones.” I glance at my watch. “Well, more like thirteen minutes and fifty three seconds. Fifty two, fifty one—”
“Oh, fuck.”
The panic in Niko’s voice has all three of us on guard, our hackles raised and bodies poised for a fight against an enemy we can’t see as we face him.
He’s holding a file in his hands, an actual file folder and quickly flipping through what looks like a hell of a lot more papers than the three we’ve been finding.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Goddamnit.”
Dimitri abandons the table he just flipped and rushes toward our omega, craning his neck in order to read over his shoulder with his good eye then immediately snatches the folder and echoes his concern.
“What’s going on?” Styx looks between them, his stormy gray stare meeting mine briefly as I hold my breath. “What is it?”
“Stupid fucking cunt,” D growls as he tucks the offending item into his jacket, glances around the room, then nods toward my laptop. “You have to stay connected to the wifi here to do that?”
I nod slowly. “Yes… I could stop now but it would look kind of strange if all of her accounts weren’t cleaned out.”
At least, it would to me.
I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.
“How long if you try to get into Boris’ shit?”
My brows raise as I quickly do a little math. “Another twenty minutes, give or take. Why?”
“Do it.” He takes out his glock and checks the clip, repeating the action on the other two guns hidden in his clothes as he motions for us to do the same. “You armed?”
“Always.” I move back to my laptop and start hacking into the accounts that are about to make us fucking billionaires.
I bet we’d be richer than the fucking Vatican and the pope himself if we could find whatever cash and assets the old man has on sight.
What he has above board is close to that as it is.
“But you know that’s not my preference.”
Styx slips his brass knuckles over his right fingers then another set on his left. “What the hell is going on?”
“There was a fucking hit on Tatiana,” Dimitri growls as Niko adds, “But the bitch sold her to Hayk instead.”
The windows along the north and east walls shatter at that exact moment, glass breaking inward right along with several big motherfuckers who come rushing toward us with guns drawn.
I grab my computer, ready to close it and scrap the whole thing until I hear my beta yell, “Don’t fucking stop until we have every last penny!”
Should that give me a boner? Probably not, but it sure as fuck does, and after I move the laptop out of harm’s way and turn to join my mates in what is going to definitely be an epic battle, I know for a fact I’m going to be rock hard and suffering from blue balls until we’re done.