Chapter 2

Chapter Two

T atyana Vorona sat in the waiting room of yet another corporate office in downtown Odesa. The chairs were immaculate and far nicer than any office she’d worked at. There was little attempt at looking new or modern. SMO was clearly a firm backed by old money, with rich wooden doors, warm gold lamps, and hardly a fluorescent lamp in sight.

She tugged on her black pencil skirt, trying not to be intimidated and knowing she looked like a poor country mouse in this luxurious office. The woman delivering coffee around the office was better dressed than Tatyana was.

Then again, she wasn’t accustomed to paying close attention to her wardrobe. At her first job, she’d worn smart wool slacks, white shirts, and a few different sweaters to work. It was a medium-size firm in Kyiv that employed mostly young people, many of whom wore sneakers to work instead of heels.

After she’d had to move back to Sevastopol, Tatyana had worked from home and gradually given away or sold most of her professional wardrobe save for this ill-fitting pencil-skirt-and-sweater combination.

It shouldn’t matter how she was dressed. Her hair was neatly coiled into a bun at the back of her head. She’d put on a little bit of makeup, and most importantly, she had paperwork, digital and paper files, and a printed record of her work history along with her former employer’s ties to this firm.

And the laptop.

Zara had been adamant that the laptop Tatyana used for her bookkeeping not be tied to the internet in any way. She’d only gotten the job after she could prove to Zara that no one would be able to hack her computer and that all the information she needed could be stored in paper files.

The woman was paranoid, but she was paranoid with good reason because Tatyana had made numerous backups for her work. She hadn’t told Zara of course, but Tatyana knew that paper could be lost and digital backups lasted forever.

Working for the paranoid woman was the only job that Tatyana had been able to find in her childhood home, and after her grandparents had passed, she and her mother desperately needed money if they wanted to keep their home.

Zara was eccentric, but she’d paid well.

Until she didn’t.

Tatyana took a deep breath and tried not to tap her foot with impatience.

The secretary glanced up and offered a kind smile. “Ms. Beridze is on her way into the office. She was traveling last night and sends her apologies for being late.”

“It’s fine.” Tatyana gave her a tight smile. “I appreciate her time.”

“Of course.”

Beridze was a Georgian name. Since she’d walked into SMO International, she’d met Ukrainians and Russians, of course, but she’d also heard accents from Armenia, Romania, and other Black Sea countries. Muted phone conversations around her were conducted in English, Russian, Chinese, and other languages she didn’t recognize, but all that made sense for an international shipping conglomerate like SMO.

Elene Beridze was the chief financial officer for the labyrinthine corporation that Zara’s company had operated under, which Tatyana had found out once she’d picked through layers and layers of paperwork.

It had taken months to find the connection between SMO International and Zara, even after calling in favors from old friends. SMO seemed to be as archaic in some of their practices as Zara had been, and hardly anything was online. No website. No email addresses listed.

Nothing.

Tatyana cleared her throat. “If there’s someone else I could meet about compensation so I don’t have to take Ms. Beridze’s time?—”

“No, no.” The secretary was quick to jump in. “It’s no trouble. She wanted to meet you personally.”

So you don’t report us to regulators.

It was the unspoken subtext to all her conversations thus far. First she had to convince the receptionist in the front office that someone in Accounting really did want to talk to her. It was only when someone in a suit walked by and overheard Zara’s name that she’d gotten attention.

Then she had to convince the person in Accounting that she wasn’t speaking fiction.

Five people later, she’d ended up on the fourth floor of a luxurious office situated in an old mansion located in the north end of the Prymorskyi District. She could smell the ocean outside, and a deep breath of Black Sea air shored up her confidence.

She had worked for six months without pay.

She deserved her money. Her family needed it.

And judging from the crystal water goblets by the decanter on the sideboard, this company had more than enough funds to pay her.

Muted footsteps sounded in the hallway as Tatyana looked away from the cut-crystal decanter and back toward the door.

An attractive woman with a chic grey bob and a burgundy suit walked over the threshold, accompanied by a tall, dark-haired man carrying a briefcase. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties, and her appearance shouted money in the most low-key way.

In Sevastopol, Tatyana was accustomed to women with money displaying that wealth with designer handbags and jewelry that could blind you. This woman was the opposite of that.

“Miss Vorona?” She smiled graciously. “I’m Elene Beridze, and I apologize for keeping you waiting.” The woman spoke in English with a demure British accent and reached out, offering Tatyana a handshake.

Tatyana took her hand, responding in English. “It’s no problem. I only hope we can settle this. I know it’s a very awkward situation.”

“Thank you for your patience while we sorted things out.” She reached back for the briefcase her companion was carrying. “Why don’t we speak in my conference room?”

“Of course.” Tatyana glanced out the window as she followed the executive down a wood-paneled hallway. She’d been waiting so long the sun was already setting. “What time do you think?—”

“This shouldn’t take much longer, but to go over all the paperwork to settle your back pay, you might need to come back tomorrow morning. Again, I am so sorry for the wait. I had to travel unexpectedly last night. You’re staying in town, yes?”

Tatyana nodded. “At a hotel.” A run-down tourist trap, but it was cheap and clean.

“I hope you realize we will be compensating you for all your travel expenses as well.”

Elene Beridze ushered her into a conference room dominated by a wooden table carved with a rose detail. There was a crystal chandelier overhead, and a gilt-framed mirror dominated the longest wall.

Tatyana tried not to stare. A gold flower from the edge of that mirror could probably pay her mother’s expenses for a month.

“You never should have had to track us down as you did,” Elene continued, “so the expenses related to that will be reimbursed. We have a standing agreement at the Admiral Hotel for employees who need to work in town. Can we put you in a room there on our account?”

Tatyana blinked. “That’s all right. I only want to settle this as quickly as possible so I can return to my mother.”

“Of course.” Elene motioned for her assistant to pull out a chair for Tatyana before she dismissed the man. “Please join me. I’ve seen the copies of the paperwork you’ve already submitted, but I have a few questions.”

“Of course.” Tatyana took a deep breath. “Are those questions related to all the money Zara stole from you?”

Elene froze, and her only movement for a few moments was a long blink. “You’re direct, Miss Vorona. I appreciate that.”

Tatyana looked around the office and decided that she currently had nothing to lose. “I’m not interested in dishonesty, Miss Beridze. I approached SMO because I need to be paid but also because I knew that Zara was probably running two sets of books.” She placed her hand on her messenger bag. “I have the real accounts. I would like to be paid the salary that I am owed, but I want to make things right. If you would like, I can make myself available to help you find the money that Zara stole.”

There was a flicker of amusement in Elene’s eyes. “As I said before, I appreciate directness.”

“Then you should also appreciate that whatever money I recover for you, I would expect a percentage of it.” It was a huge gamble, but day after day in SMO’s offices made Tatyana bold. “A finder’s fee.”

And desperate.

Elene smiled a little bit. “You want a finder’s fee for telling us you helped Zara embezzle money from our corporation?”

“I’m only a bookkeeper, Ms. Beridze. I embezzled nothing. In fact, I worked for six months without pay.”

Elene lifted her chin. “This is true.”

Tatyana kept her hand on her messenger bag. “I compiled accounts and organized money, which I believe I can help you recover. It is not illegal to receive a consulting fee in this situation, but it is illegal to file false tax reports as Zara must have done under your corporate aegis.”

Elene cocked her head. “An interesting choice of words,” she murmured. “So you are saying that if we cannot come to an agreement, you will be reporting SMO to regulators in Sevastopol?”

“As an employee who could also be held responsible for any trespass of the law, I would feel a responsibility to come forward if I knew illegality had been committed by my employer.”

“Are you attempting to blackmail us?”

Tatyana didn’t flinch. “Not at all. I am very sure that all of Zara’s actions were taken without your consent, and” —she chose her words carefully— “I trust that a firm with the reputation that SMO International carries would correct all those reports once the theft has been reported and the money is recovered.”

Fat chance that they would, but that wasn’t Tatyana’s responsibility.

“Of course,” Elene said. “If a violation was proven to us, we would report it to the proper authorities.”

“But to prove SMO is not involved, the company would have to recover the money first.”

Elene leaned forward. “And you can do that for us?”

Tatyana fixed a confident and cool expression on her face. “I can.”

The corner of Elene’s mouth flicked up. “I hope you don’t mind late nights, Miss Vorona.” She glanced at the darkening sky out the window. “Because if you want more than your back pay, there’s one more person you will need to meet.”

Tatyana hadn’t smoked since she graduated from secondary school, but she wished she had a cigarette as she paced in the cobblestone courtyard of SMO’s offices while they waited for Elene’s boss to arrive. Apparently the man was traveling from the north and kept odd hours because of jet lag.

Tatyana wasn’t going to question it when she felt inches away from success.

Offering to find the money for a finder’s fee was a gamble, and she wasn’t nearly as confident as she’d presented to Elene, but it was the only play she had.

Yes, she wanted to get paid, but she also needed a job, and those were few and far between in Sevastopol, which was where she needed to be. Her neighbor could only look in on her mother for a few more days before Tatyana would need to return because the woman could not take care of herself.

She felt her phone buzzing in her pocket and reached for it, knowing without looking who it was going to be. “Hallo.”

“Tatyana, are you flying home now?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “No, because you wouldn’t be able to call me if I was flying, Mama.”

“I know that. Are you still in Kyiv?”

“Odesa, Mama.”

“Odesa.” Anna Asanov whispered the word like a curse. “And are they going to pay you?”

“Yes, it’s a good company. It’s a real company, Mama, don’t worry.”

Her mother had always been suspicious of Tatyana working from home. She worried that the job wasn’t legal. That Tatyana was doing something illegal by not going into an office even after Tatyana explained that much of her work back in Kyiv was also online and could be done from anywhere.

Sadly, with things the way they were, no firm in Kyiv was going to keep paying someone who had to live in Sevastopol even if they wanted to.

“The electricity bill is due, Tanya.”

Fuck. Where was she going to get the money for it? How fast could SMO reimburse her for travel expenses? Maybe she should have taken Elene up on the offer to stay at the company’s preferred hotel and send the rest of her travel money back to her mother.

No, no, no. That gave SMO too much power over the situation. Better to be independent until some kind of contract was signed.

“Can you borrow a little bit from Karol?” Their neighbor knew the situation—a little of it anyway—and the old man held Tatyana in great affection because of her grandparents.

“I mean, I can try. He’s going to want something from me if I borrow money though.”

Tatyana tried not to roll her eyes, but then she gave in to the impulse because what the hell? Her mother couldn’t see her. “Mama, Karol doesn’t want to have sex with you.”

“Why not? I’m still a beautiful woman, Tanya.”

“And he’s a sweet old man who was friends with your father. He doesn’t see you that way.”

Her mother muttered something about old men still having balls even if they were saggy, and Tatyana let out a slow, even breath and tried not to listen because the last thing she wanted to think about was her neighbor’s balls. “Mama, just borrow the money from Karol and tell him I’ll pay him back as soon as I get home.”

Because maybe money would magically materialize in her pocket as she went through security.

You’ll figure it out, Tatyana. You always figure it out.

She told herself the same thing every time she woke up in the middle of the night, wondering how she and her mother were going to make it through the winter without Tatyana having a job.

She sucked in a hard breath and let the sea air fill her lungs. It was Friday night, and beyond the stone and wrought iron wall of SMO’s headquarters, she could hear young people heading into the night with friends. She heard faint music in the distance from a club and the pulse and retreat of pop music pumping from passing cars.

You used to have that life.

Well, not exactly that life. But she’d had friends in Kyiv. She’d had a job and a little extra money for fun on the weekends. She’d had friends she could call and boys she dated when she wanted to feel sexy and seen.

Tatyana was twenty-seven, but she felt like she was a decade older. Maybe more. She had no one but her mother now. She didn’t even have a job.

“Miss Vorona?” a voice called from the front of the office. “They’re ready for you.”

She took another deep, bracing breath of sea air and said, “I have to go, Mama. Borrow the money from Karol and I’ll pay him back soon.”

“Okay but?—”

“Mama, I have to go.”

“Fine, fine.” Anna muttered something under her breath and hung up the phone.

“Good night to you too.” Tatyana put her phone in her pocket and walked into the building and through polished wooden doors that could pay her mother’s electric bill for a year.

Maybe a decade.

Tatyana was back in Elene Beridze’s conference room, her hand resting on the messenger bag in the seat next to her, when two people walked in.

One was Elene, and the other was a man.

No, more than a man. A presence .

Tatyana wasn’t impressed by men. Growing up without a father made her keenly aware that men held too much power over most women’s lives. Her mother pined for a man who’d never loved her. Her grandfather had been the rare, stable exception in her life, but she’d never become attached to a boyfriend or a lover because, in her experience, men were not dependable.

But the man who took the seat next to Elene was magnetic.

He was dressed in a dark grey suit the color of charcoal and wore a wine-red shirt under his jacket that was open at the collar. No tie. Dark, reddish-brown hair was swept back from his face, and a trim beard covered his jaw.

He sat across from her, staring at Tatyana with keen grey eyes the color of storm clouds. He was tall, even while sitting, and she knew he’d tower over her if he stood. He was also handsome, but it was the least impressive thing about him.

Whatever cologne he was wearing smelled like cedar and sweet smoke, and she was tempted to lean toward him. She resisted. Power radiated from him, and in her gut, Tatyana knew he was dangerous.

Her research had told her that SMO International was a legitimate multinational company not connected to organized crime, so why did this man have the bearing of a gangster?

Elene said, “Miss Vorona, this is my employer, Mr. Sokolov, the CEO of SMO International.”

His voice was low and curt. “She knows who I am.” He spoke in Russian, not English.

“I don’t know who you are,” Tatyana responded in Russian too, “but you look like the boss.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “Then you know who I am.”

Sokolov. He looked like a bird of prey, ready to snatch up the pale little girl sitting in front of him. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, but something about him told Tatyana he was older than he looked.

His gaze on her didn’t waver; Tatyana felt like she was under a microscope.

“Elene thinks you can find the money Zara stole. Is she right?”

Tatyana glanced at Elene. “I think Ms. Beridze is rarely wrong.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I think it is.”

He didn’t look away, and his constant attention felt like a burn on her skin. “I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

Tatyana narrowed her eyes. “You think I’m lying?”

“I think Zara is very smart and very conniving.”

“Agreed.” Tatyana leaned forward. “But I’m smarter than she is. And I found the connection between ZOL Enterprises and SMO International, so I’m smarter than whoever tried to hide her company, don’t you think?”

“I’m the one who tried to hide her company.” His mouth twitched again at the corner, almost as if he wanted to smile. “So you think you’re smarter than me?”

Well, shit. “Maybe I’m just better at sorting through paperwork.”

“Don’t back away now, volchitsa. I like your teeth.”

What was happening? Was this absolutely terrifying man… flirting with her?

No, no, no, no, no.

That was not going to happen.

Tatyana met his terrifying grey eyes rimmed with lashes black as ink, and she kept her gaze fixed, trying to project stone-cold confidence. “I can find the money Zara hid. I’m the one who did the transfers, and I know how to find my way through paperwork mazes. If you try to use a blunt instrument, you will get nowhere. You need a key, and I’m it.”

Sokolov finally broke their locked gaze and glanced down to the chair at Tatyana’s right side. “What’s to stop me from taking that bag with all your documents and your computer and getting rid of you tonight?”

“Oleg.” Elene’s voice was a sharp rebuke.

He looked at his financial officer and shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to give her a percentage of thirty million dollars she didn’t earn.”

Tatyana nearly choked, but she tried not to lose her cool expression.

Thirty million? Dollars? US dollars?

Dear God, what had she gotten herself into?

This was a mistake. This was a horrible, horrible mistake. There was no way she could find thirty million dollars anywhere. There was no way she would be able to?—

“Five percent,” Sokolov said.

“Fifteen,” she blurted.

No! What was she doing? She was negotiating for something she couldn’t do! It was decided. She was going to die. She was absolutely writing a check that she had no way of cashing.

“Seven percent, and you’ll work from Elene’s office so she can supervise you. Don’t fool yourself that you can find thirty million without some help.”

“Thirteen percent. I can find my own help, and I’m not working from here. I have family obligations in Sevastopol.”

“Sevastopol is Zara’s old neighborhood, and she probably still has people there watching you. Don’t underestimate how dangerous she can be. You’re safer here.” He leaned forward and held out a hand. “You can have ten percent, volchitsa, but I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

Ten percent of thirty million dollars was three million dollars.

Three. Million. Dollars. US dollars.

It was enough for the rest of her life. Enough to keep her mother out of poverty. Enough to pay back every loan she’d ever taken and enough to say fuck you to her father forever.

Tatyana reached out her hand to the most dangerous man she’d ever met. “Ten percent and my pay for the last six months of work for Zara. My mother needs it and it’s what I am owed.”

“Done.” His hand closed over hers, and Tatyana felt a wave of something… wrong. Foreign, wrong, inhuman.

She looked into Sokolov’s eyes, and there was a dark, swirling energy coming off him that caught her breath. “What are you?”

He frowned, narrowed his eyes, and then everything went black.