Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

T atyana was in her office, tapping away in a private chat room with one of the few friends she’d kept in touch with from her university days while Pushkin slept on the futon behind her, purring furiously.

The friend was a young man who went by 6R1M4C3 or Grimace online, and he called her P1dg3n or Pidge, which was a name no one in her real life had ever heard or ever would.

— still have all the drives you sent me , Grimace typed. — they’re safe.

—thank you.

—want me to send them somewhere?

—not now. not yet. not sure where this is going.

—you know how to get in touch.

Tatyana was fairly sure Grimace had intended his name to sound dangerous and menacing when he chose it, but all Tatyana could think of was the giant purple monster who stole the hamburgers of her youth.

She threw out an idea. —if you wanted to hide thirty million dollars, how would you hide it?

—not in russia.

—no kidding.

She was pretty sure Grimace was still in Kyiv, but she had no idea if that would last. His post office box was in Kyiv, but there were forwarding services and he was paranoid.

—real estate and gold, he finally typed back. —definitely gold. real estate if I have lawyers in other countries.

Tatyana took a deep breath. Zara had lawyers, she was sure of it. Zara probably had lots of lawyers at her beck and call. After all, she had thirty million dollars of Oleg’s money.

—remember the job I was doing last year? she typed.

—the whistleblower thing?

—I think I might have been the bad guy.

—pidge!

—I know.

—I taught you to use your powers for good. you said you and Z were taking down a billionaire.

—I thought I was, but I think I was really helping Z embezzle money.

—fuck.

—I know.

—are you in trouble?

—not if I help the billionaire.

—FUCK.

—I know.

—what are you going to do?

The man was probably already in Sevastopol, lurking and waiting to find her. She’d been sitting in her house all day, stressing out and trying to figure out who had broken in. She’d touched base with everyone who had backups like Grimace and another online friend in the UK. She’d gone out and immediately bought another laptop and cloned her working computer to that, hiding it in a brand-new location.

And all day she’d felt like someone was watching her.

Maybe it was Oleg’s people, maybe it was Zara’s, but Tatyana felt like she had a target on her back, and she was more and more certain that tracking down Zara’s father had been a stupid idea.

You could run.

One hundred thousand dollars might not be millions, but it would be enough to get her and her mother away from Sevastopol. The question was, where would they go?

No, the real question was: How would she ever convince her mother to keep running? Anna might run for a short time, but eventually she would start whining to go back to her house and her birds.

Tatyana felt as trapped as poor Rex Harrison with his broken wing.

—what are you going to do?

Grimace’s question lingered on the screen.

—I’m going to help the billionaire find the money. Then I’m going to try to forget all this ever happened and hope he and Z both forget I exist.

—don’t be too good at your job.

—I learned your lesson.

According to Grimace, he’d hacked into a military database only to be recruited to some shadowy arm of the government when they caught him. They didn’t want to put him in jail. They just made him work for them.

—did Z have lawyers?

—she paid enough money to offices with three last names, so I think yes.

—any of them international?

Tatyana frowned and flipped open her laptop, scanning the expenses for the first year she’d been doing Zara’s books.

—three different firms , she typed to Grimace. —one in Russia, one in the UK, and one in the US.

—real estate. Easiest way to hide money overseas. She could have claimed them as offices or put them into an entirely different name. Invest in the right real estate and your dirty money starts getting cleaner.

Tatyana double-checked the ledgers that Elene had given her, the ones Zara had submitted to SMO, and noticed that only two firms had been paid in that ledger, the one in New York and the other in Saint Petersburg.

—the UK firm isn’t on both sets of books.

—Londongrad, babee.

—you might be right.

—you know I’m right. I’m always right.

Tatyana rolled her eyes. She had a sneaking suspicion that Grimace was barely in his twenties. When she’d first met him online, he struck her as a teenage boy and kept wanting pictures of her even though he offered nothing of himself.

Tatyana refused. Obviously.

But maybe Grimace could help her with something else.

—any idea how to get access to accounts that I set up for Z? I’m sure she changed the passwords.

—my paws are itching. Grimace sent a gif of a cat furiously typing on a laptop. —give it to me.

Tatyana couldn’t stop her smile. She glanced over her shoulder at Pushkin but couldn’t imagine an animal less interested in typing. It felt good to smile, but she was reluctant to drag Grimace into anything involving Oleg or Zara.

—I don’t want to get you involved. These people…

A memory flickered in Tatyana’s mind.

Cool skin and callused fingers.

Memories of trees and a shining bird on a jewel-green background.

Eyes the color of woodsmoke, rimmed by thick black lashes.

What are you?

She shook her head and kept typing. —these people are really dangerous.

—I don’t like this. Someone broke into your house. They know where you live for real.

—my boss flew into town last night. I don’t think Z is going to cross him.

—you trusted Z.

—I won’t make that mistake again.

—be careful, pidge.

Sevastopol

Two years before

Zara leaned over her, keeping one hand on Tatyana’s shoulder while she worked. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“Okay, so I’ve identified all the income streams that ZOL should be paying taxes on but they aren’t.”

“Okay.” Zara could be surprisingly affectionate with Tatyana. She did it with everyone in the office, but Tatyana knew her family was Albanian originally. It must be a cultural thing.

“And I’ve written a program that will skim a small percentage from each of those transactions once they’re entered into accounts receivable.”

“And you can do that on this computer program?”

Not with the factory settings. She didn’t tell Zara that part. It was a slight tweak in the code that Tatyana had created, and she would only ever use it with Zara’s permission.

It was Zara’s company. She wasn’t doing anything illegal. She was helping her boss prove to authorities that her father was corrupt and that she’d been trying to do the right thing.

Zara brushed a hand over the back of Tatyana’s neck. “You’re too stressed.”

Tatyana let out a nervous laugh and felt an immediate wave of relaxation. “I feel like I’m breaking the law.”

“You’re not. I promise.” Zara laughed too. “This probably isn’t even enough to cover what all the fines and everything will be when I turn him in, but at least we’ll be able to show the police that we were trying to withhold something.”

She took a deep breath and nodded as she uploaded the program into the accounting software at ZOL.

“This will funnel a percentage of each transaction into an outside account.” She sat back and stared at the screen as lines of code started to fill the monitor.

“How much?” Zara said.

“Just under one percent. I’ve programmed it to choose randomly between point seven and point nine percent so nothing will seem too regular. And unless someone at your father’s company is checking every line in the receivables, it’s not going to be enough to notice.”

Zara squeezed the back of her neck and straightened up. “You’re brilliant.”

“I’m really not.” She watched the code running and let out a deep breath. “I’m just a bookkeeper.”

“You’re a whistleblower,” Zara said. “When we go to the authorities?—”

“Are you going to have to tell them it was me?” Tatyana spun in her chair. “I don’t want… I don’t think I want the police knowing it was me unless they really have to.”

“I’m not sure.” Zara sat on the small futon on the other side of Tatyana’s home office, and her eyes were wide. “I’ve never done anything like this before either. I don’t even know how much evidence they’re going to need.”

“What if you go to them now?” Tatyana asked. “Maybe there’s a way that you could meet with them and they could tell you what kind of paperwork or documents they might need to?—”

“And chance Oleg finding out?” Zara shook her head. “He has people everywhere. Like I told you, all the people originally hired at ZOL were hired by his staff.” She huffed out a breath. “I don’t even know why he gave all this to me. I’m starting to think he’s trying to set me up to get arrested or something.”

“Why?” Tatyana’s eyes went wide. “Your think your own father would try to set you up?”

“He can be very… practical.” Zara’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “And cruel. He hasn’t been the same since Luana died.”

“Is that your mother?”

Zara cut her eyes to Tatyana. “Luana was not my mother.” Her gaze turned to the dark window where the yellow glow from the streetlamp illuminated the cobbled street. “Luana was his wife though. We were close. She loved me.” Zara’s eyes turned a little bit pink. “I think she loved me more than she loved Oleg, and he’s never forgiven me for that.”

“I’m sorry.” Tatyana swallowed the lump in her throat. “My father… My mother thinks he disappeared, but he didn’t. He found me when I was at university, and he started emailing me. He tries to pretend he’s interested in my life, that he wants to have a relationship, but I think he just wants money. He emailed me right after my grandparents died and was asking all these questions about their property.”

“That’s your mother’s country house, right?”

Tatyana nodded. “It’s just a farm. There’s actually quite a lot of property, and it’s very near to the sea. So there are developers who have wanted to buy it over the years.” Tatyana shook her head. “My mother would never sell. She’s really only happy when she’s there.”

There was a clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen down the hallway, and Zara turned her head. “Why is she in the city then? She’s retired, isn’t she?”

Her lip was curled in disdain, and Tatyana had that random thought burst into her mind again . You’re a bad person.

She blinked and turned back to the computer. “She knows I need to work. I already moved back so she wouldn’t be alone, but there’s nothing in the country. The house doesn’t even have a phone line. Definitely no internet. I wouldn’t be able to work anywhere but as a server at a tourist hotel.”

“Hmm.”

Tatyana glanced over her shoulder. Zara was staring out the window again, looking bored. The woman was strange, but Tatyana tried not to judge her too harshly. Everything Zara was trying to do was honorable, so why did she make Tatyana’s hair stand on end?

At first she’d been dazzled by Zara’s laughter and quick wit. Her passion for discovering what he father was up to. Tatyana had been swept up with the idea of being a secret superhero, fighting crime with her computer and accounting skills. It was so much more exciting than keeping books for a shipping company.

But the more time she spent with Zara, the more she realized that—while their project was noble—Zara was just not a very good person.

She was spoiled and selfish. She wasn’t kind to people and she was rabidly judgmental, writing off anyone who offended her with embarrassing swiftness.

People don’t have to be good to do good things.

“You look stressed again.” Zara jumped to her feet and came over to rub Tatyana’s neck. “Relax. We’re doing the right thing. You’re not going to get into trouble. I promise.”

Anna was staring out the window at the black car that had just pulled up next to the house. “Are you in trouble?”

Tatyana glanced out the window and saw Oleg Sokolov looking up. He was wearing a black overcoat, and his piercing grey eyes found Tatyana’s before she could hide from his view.

I am in so much trouble.

“It’s my boss.” Tatyana spun around. “Why is he coming here now ? I was waiting all day.” Her eyes raced around the small living area. Had the sofa always been so threadbare? There were scratches on the coffee table, and the stack of books under the lamp was crooked.

She walked over and straightened them.

Pushkin sensed Tatyana’s tension and ran down the hall, probably to hide under a bed.

“What are you doing?” Anna asked. “This house is clean. We have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Her mother lifted her chin. “We may not be rich foreigners, but we are honest people.”

“I know.” Her heart was racing. Why was he here?

A sharp rap cracked against the door, and Tatyana’s pulse jumped.

“Tanya, are you in trouble?” Anna walked over to her, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Tatyana. “Should I call the police?”

“No!” Tatyana hissed. “Besides, he probably owns the police. His plane? We landed at the military base when I came back.”

“You landed in a military plane?” Anna’s eyes went wide. “What are you telling me? Who are these people? I thought this was an honest?—”

“Mama, shhh!” She had to calm down. Oleg was standing outside her door, and the longer she waited to answer it, the more awkward it would be. “I’m answering the door.”

“Good.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not afraid of them.” Her sad, irritable mother suddenly had an antagonist and turned into a mother bear.

It had always been this way. When things were smooth in Tatyana’s life, Anna always looked for something to go wrong. But when things actually did go wrong? Her mother came to life. She was in her element during an emergency.

Tatyana walked to the door and pulled it open. “Mr. Soko— Oh.”

It wasn’t Oleg; it was the other man, the one who was always following a few steps behind Oleg. The man who seemed to blend into the background and raised the hair on Tatyana’s arms.

“You.”

“Mika Arakis.” The man walked past her and swept his eyes around the room. “And you are Tatyana Vorona. You had an intruder?” He stopped in front of Anna and looked her up and down. “You’re the mother.”

Anna’s chin went up. “And you’re not the boss. I can tell.”

Mika cocked his head. “I approve.”

“I don’t care. Why are you here?”

“Because someone broke into your house.” A deep voice came from the doorway.

Tatyana turned toward Oleg’s voice, surprised by the warmth that surged through her when she met his gaze.

He nodded deeply. “Tatyana.”

“Mr. Sokolov.”

There was a twitch under his eye. He kept his hands in his pockets as he entered the room until Kiril the driver stepped behind him. Then he held out his arms and Kiril took off his overcoat, draping it over his arm and leaving Oleg in an immaculate charcoal sweater and a pair of black trousers that highlighted his trim hips and powerful thighs.

Oh dammit, why was she looking at her boss’s thighs? That was not okay. Tatyana immediately looked anywhere but at him.

While Mika wandered around the living room, inspecting the windows and lamps, Oleg approached Tatyana’s mother.

“Ms. Vorona, you must excuse our sudden arrival. I am of the old tradition, and I tend to visit without announcing it with phone calls or texts or any of that nonsense.” He reached back and snapped his fingers.

Kiril stepped forward and handed Oleg a pink pastry box marked with the logo of a luxury hotel in the city center.

“Chocolate smetannik.” Oleg held the box out with a charming smile. “I hope you’ll accept it as my apology.”

Tatyana’s eyes went wide. Her mother loved the rich sour cream cake and often made it for holidays. Oleg was being… charming?

This was so dangerous. Her mother automatically distrusted charming men. If Oleg wanted to impress her mother—which was unlikely—he’d go much further being his usual domineering self.

“Hmm.” Anna took the box reluctantly. “It will taste better tomorrow.”

“Mama,” Tatyana said, jumping in. “Why don’t we make some tea?”

“No, she’s correct, of course.” Oleg’s eyes were warm and his voice wrapped around Tatyana like a cashmere scarf. “Your mother must be a baker. Smetannik is always better if it is chilled overnight. In fact” —Oleg straightened and shifted his shoulders back until his tall frame seemed to fill the room— “I have some business to discuss with Tatyana while Mika takes a look around the house to improve the security for you and your daughter, Ms. Vorona.”

Anna sniffed and held on to the box. “She says someone broke in, but I don’t see anything missing.”

“That’s Mr. Arakis’s specialty. He’s a security expert.” Oleg finally looked at Tatyana. “I wonder if it would be better to leave Mika to his work while we speak about the accounts. I haven’t eaten this evening, have you?”

Tatyana wasn’t able to answer before her mother jumped in.

“Are you here as her boss or something else?” Anna asked. “Is that appropriate? Asking her out on a date and pretending it’s for work? She’s not stupid. You think she can refuse you? What kind of company do you run?”

“It’s fine.” Tatyana stepped toward her mother. “Mr. Sokolov traveled all the way from Odesa. If he wants to eat while we talk about the accounts, I’m happy to join him.” She glanced at Oleg. “I know it’s a working dinner, not a…” She could barely say the word because the thought was terrifying. “Not a date. Obviously not a date.”

“I wouldn’t presume that a lovely young woman like your daughter would be interested in an old man like me, Ms. Vorona.”

Old man? Was he joking?

“I’ll get my coat,” Tatyana said. “Just give me a moment. I’ll get my coat and my briefcase.”

“Briefcase?” Oleg narrowed his eyes. “Ah yes.” He reached back and snapped his fingers again.

Kiril handed Oleg a large bag with ribbons for handles.

Oh no. No no no.

“I saw that your computer bag was shabby, so I took the opportunity to get you a new one,” Oleg said. “For work.”

A bag with ribbons like that meant money. So. Much. Money.

And there was no way she could reject the gift graciously while Oleg Sokolov was standing in her mother’s living room, wearing a cashmere sweater and a wolflike smile.

“Thank you.” Tatyana reached out and took the bag, which had cream-colored tissue paper sticking out from the top. Whatever it was, it probably cost more than her car.

Anna humphed. “Not a date. Of course not a date. How could I possibly think it’s a date?” She muttered something under her breath and walked to the kitchen. “Security man, if you’re going to poke around my house, I’m going to make tea.”