Chapter 19
Nineteen
Drake
One week passes in a blur of her.
Katriana in my bed every night, her body warm against mine, her soft sounds filling the darkness when I wake her with my mouth between her thighs.
Katriana at her desk during the day, those glasses sliding down her nose while she works through the tasks I assign with a focus that makes me want to clear the surface and take her right there.
Katriana laughing with Sienna in the break room, the sound drifting through the hallways and settling into my chest like something I want to keep forever.
I am ruined for anyone else. I knew it the moment I slid inside her, felt her body yield to mine, watched her eyes go soft with trust and pleasure.
But the depth of my ruin reveals itself in smaller moments.
The way I reach for her in my sleep. The way her absence makes rooms feel emptier than they did before she filled them.
The way I catch myself smiling at nothing, just because she exists.
I still have not told her the truth about how long I've wanted her.
The secret sits in my chest like a stone, heavy and sharp-edged.
Three years of wanting her. Three years of watching from a distance while my brother treated her like something disposable.
I claimed her wish not just because I needed an heir, but because I had been waiting for any excuse to make her mine.
She deserves to know. Every day I wake up telling myself today is the day. Every night I fall asleep with the confession lodged in my throat, unspoken.
What will she see when I tell her? The man who loves her, or the one who stood in the shadows while she suffered?
I watched Jonah break her down piece by piece and did nothing.
Told myself she wasn't mine to save. Told myself stepping in would only make things worse.
And after he discarded her, I stayed away.
Convinced myself that any woman who survived my brother's cruelty would want nothing to do with another man who carried the Moses name.
But those were the excuses of a coward, and Katriana has already survived enough cowardly men.
If she looks at me with betrayal in her eyes, if she decides I am no different from the brother who hurt her, I am not sure I will survive it.
Tomorrow. I will tell her tomorrow.
The lie has become a refrain, a coward's prayer I repeat to buy myself one more day of her looking at me like I am worthy of her trust.
But right now, I’m focused on how she’s looking at me with so much love in her eyes my soul and heart feel full.
"I'll be back in three days." Her brown eyes hold mine through those glasses I have grown to love. "Try not to burn down the city while I'm gone."
Katriana rises to the tips of her toes and presses her sweet lips to mine. This morning she tastes of strawberries and cream from a new lipgloss Persia gave her.
I dive in for another taste and get a warm laugh in return. Her fingers straighten my tie with a domesticity that makes my chest ache.
"No promises." I quip.
She laughs, and the sound wraps around my heart like a fist.
Katriana is flying to New York to visit her mother and sister. The trip has been planned for a week, coordinated with Ares and his people to ensure her family's protection extends to her presence. Two of my best men will accompany her. She will never be alone, never be vulnerable, or in danger.
I watch her disappear into the elevator, flanked by guards who understand that their lives are forfeit if anything happens to her. I meet their gaze and they understand my message.
Her vivid brown eyes flash to mine with shades of humor that almost make me smile. “Stop intimidating my bodyguards, Drake, or I’ll have to make cookies as an apology for how you treat them.”
Christ, this woman. Both guards’ faces turn bright red and I swear I see a hint of a smile on one of their lips.
“See you soon.” She blows me a kiss and the doors slide closed, and the penthouse falls silent around me.
Three days. I can survive three days without her.
The morning passes in meetings and phone calls, the machinery of my empire grinding forward with its usual relentless efficiency.
Luca briefs me on the Markov situation. Kon reports on a shipment that arrived without incident.
Massimo presents contracts that require my signature.
I move through the tasks on autopilot, my mind circling back to Katriana every few minutes like a compass needle finding north.
It is nearly noon when my phone rings with a number I do not recognize.
I answer on the second ring. "Who is this?"
"Brother."
The word lands like a blade between my ribs.
Jonah's voice is different than I remember. Softer. Humbler. The arrogant edge that always scraped against my nerves has been filed down to something that almost sounds like contrition.
"You have thirty seconds before I hang up."
"I know I don't deserve your time." He speaks quickly, urgency bleeding through the feigned humility. "I know what I did was unforgivable. I've had some time to think and I realize now how far I've fallen."
"Twenty seconds."
"I have information. About the people who've been circling Syndicate territory. The ones connected to Victor Kedrov." He pauses, lending gravity to what he says next.
"I've been doing my own digging. Trying to make amends. And I found something you need to see."
My hand tightens on the phone. Victor Kedrov. The name still makes my blood run hot. Men like Victor do not forget. They wait. They plan. They strike when you least expect it. I would be a fool not to follow up any lead that could reveal the snake’s plans.
"What did you find?" In the back of my mind, the devil on my shoulder says this is a bad idea, but I can’t ignore good intel. Not when Katriana’s safety is concerned.
"Sergei Markov. The one who's been sniffing around your docks." Jonah's voice drops lower, conspiratorial. "He's been working with Victor. I have proof. Documents, recordings, the whole network laid out. But I can't bring it to Redthorne. You need to come to the docks and see what I’m seeing."
"What’s that?"
"I know. That's why I need you to come to me." He rattles off an address, a warehouse in the industrial district near the river. "I have Markov here. Cuffed and waiting. Consider it a peace offering. Proof that I want to make things right."
“Plus, there’s this.”
My phone dings with the sound of an incoming message. Without hanging up, I switch over and when I do what I see makes my stomach churn with disgust.
“Why the fuck are there bodies in those containers, Jonah?”
“Get here as fast as you can. We couldn’t save these, but there are more.”
Every instinct I possess screams warning. But the address he gave is in territory I control. The warehouse belongs to a shell company that traces back to Syndicate holdings. If this is a trap, it is set on ground I know better than anyone.
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." The honesty in his voice catches me off guard. "I've given you every reason not to. But I'm trying to change, Drake. I'm trying to be someone Mom wouldn't be ashamed of. Give me one chance to prove it. If I'm lying, you can finish what you started in that conference room."
I think about the gun he pointed at Katriana. The hatred in his eyes when Kon dragged him out of Redthorne. The boy I raised who became a man I no longer recognize.
I think about Victor Kedrov and the networks Luca has been trying to untangle for months. The factions testing our borders. The vultures circling, waiting for weakness.
If Jonah actually has Markov, if he has proof of the connection between Victor and the dock operations, that information is worth the risk.
"One hour. And Jonah?" I let the silence stretch, let him feel the weight of what I am about to say. "Fuck with me and I will not stop at breaking your face. I will put you in the ground beside our mother."
"Understood."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone in my hand for a long moment, running calculations. The odds of this being genuine. The odds of this being a setup. The cost of ignoring information that could protect everything I have built.
I text Kon.
Meet me in the garage. Bring weapons. We are either making nice with Jonah or…
His response comes immediately.
On my way.
The drive to the warehouse takes twenty minutes through midday traffic. Kon sits in the passenger seat, his massive frame coiled with the particular stillness of a predator scenting danger. He has not asked questions. He does not need to. The address I gave him told him everything he needs to know.
"You trust him?" Kon finally asks as I pull the car to a stop a block from the warehouse.
"No."
"Then why are we here?"
"Because if he actually has Markov, I need that information. And if he's lying..." I check the gun holstered beneath my jacket, the weight of it familiar and reassuring against my ribs. "Then I need to know what he's planning. Either way, we can handle him."
Kon nods slowly, his ice-colored eyes scanning the street ahead. "I've got your back, brother. Whatever happens."
I pull out my phone and show him the picture Jonah sent over.
“Fuck, this is serious. We do shady shit, but not this. Rafael needs to know.”
“Agreed. Let’s get this taken care of and then we can have a long sit down with everyone. It looks like we have some rats working their way into our foundations.”
We approach the warehouse on foot, moving through shadows cast by towering shipping containers and rusted machinery. The building looms ahead of us, corrugated metal walls streaked with age and neglect. A single door stands open, spilling pale light into the dim afternoon.
The setup screams trap. A lone entrance. No visible guards. The theatrical staging of an ambush waiting to spring.
But I have walked into traps before. I have walked out of them too, leaving bodies in my wake.