22. Nik

Chapter 22

Nik

Kat’s eyes widen. “He’s missing? But you saw him. His body, I mean.”

“I did,” I say, my throat tightening. “Vlad took me straight to him. I saw his body on the museum floor. So did a dozen of my men.”

“Then how the hell is he missing? How does that even happen?”

I grind my teeth. Good fucking question .

“That’s what I’d like to know. We delivered his body to the funeral home. I was debating whether to order an autopsy when they called to tell me it was gone.”

“Well, where could it be?”

“If I knew that, Kat, it wouldn’t be fucking missing.”

She blinks at me, silent. Guilt tugs at me for snapping at her. It’s not her fault Maxim’s gone. At least, I hope not.

With a sigh, I soften my tone. “I’m sorry. It’s been…a long week. I’m sure McGuire’s behind the body disappearing, too. The bastard wouldn’t pass up the chance to mess with me.”

“Why would he take the body?”

“To hide the evidence of his crime? To desecrate the remains? To fuck with me? Take your pick.”

Kat falls quiet, processing everything I’ve thrown at her. Finally, she asks, “What makes you think Maxim was strangled with a garrote?”

“He had ligature marks around his neck. Skin was bluish.”

“I see. But you were still considering an autopsy.”

“Yes. Even though the cause of death seemed obvious, I wanted confirmation. People in my line of business can be…creative. I needed to be sure. I told the funeral home to hold off until morning so I could decide. A few hours later, he was gone.”

She frowns. “Why hesitate? When you put it like that, an autopsy seems like the obvious choice.”

“I…” I clear my throat before continuing. “Like I said, his cause of death was pretty clear. I didn’t want to delay putting him to rest if it wasn’t absolutely necessary—or violate him further.”

Her expression softens. “Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

I nod, glancing at the screen, suddenly feeling exposed. But her next words pull me back.

“This whole thing is insane. A guy with mafia ties gets murdered at The Met during a party with the mayor in attendance, and then his body just disappears? How is this not all over the news?”

“I’ve kept it quiet,” I say. “It’s the least I can do for Maxim. I won’t let his death become clickbait, and I don’t need the police sniffing around my business. I’ll deal with McGuire myself.”

She falls silent, clearly processing everything I’ve just laid out. I don’t blame her—it’s a lot. Finally, she speaks.

“So, how exactly am I supposed to help you with this? You know this isn’t my area of expertise.”

“I can’t just take McGuire out based on his history with Maxim. Not without risking an all-out war between his family and my bratva . The last time the Seven Families clashed…it was ugly. Let’s leave it at that. But if I had irrefutable proof of McGuire’s guilt, I’d have every right to act. No war. No unnecessary bloodshed.”

“I still don’t see how I fit into this,” she says.

I smile, slow and deliberate. “You’re heartbreakingly beautiful, too clever for your own good, and charming as hell. I’m McGuire’s rival. You, on the other hand, are neutral. A respected member of our little underworld—one with curves that go on for miles and a smart mouth that drives me crazy. You can get into places I can’t. Talk to people who’d never speak to me. McGuire will never see you coming.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You think he didn’t see us together at the party? He might know we’re connected.”

“He might. But if anything, that helps.”

She narrows her eyes. “How does that make sense? You just gave me a speech about being neutral.”

I lean closer. “If he thinks you’re my latest conquest, it’ll make him reckless. He won’t be able to resist seeking you out. You’ll play him like a fiddle.”

“You’re awfully sure about that.”

“I am. Know your enemy, and all that,” I say simply. “Nothing to worry about.”

She scoffs. “Speak for yourself. You want me to manipulate the boss of the Irish mafia into giving you a reason to kill him. I’ve got plenty to worry about.”

I lock eyes with her. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you. Not one. If he so much as dreams of hurting you, he’s dead.”

She exhales sharply, studying me. “What about the war you’re trying to avoid?”

“You’re under my protection now. If he touches you, I’ll destroy him without hesitation.”

Her eyes search mine, her expression unreadable. “Do you trust me?” I ask.

She hesitates, considering. “I believe you mean what you say. You’ll do your best to protect me. But trust? We haven’t known each other long enough for that. Besides, I know you don’t trust me.”

“Well, you did steal from me.”

“And you kidnapped me.”

“Because you stole from me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Semantics, Nik. My point is, you can’t expect me to trust you when you don’t trust me.”

“Again, you stole from me. You showed me I couldn’t trust you from the very start.”

“Get off your high horse,” she shoots back. “You didn’t exactly bare your soul when we met.”

“I wasn’t dishonest. I just withheld what you didn’t need to know.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I could say the same.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“I know no such thing. What I do know is that you’re holding me to a standard you don’t meet yourself. You resent me for using the attraction between us to reclaim even the tiniest bit of control over my life, but you’ve been pulling my strings since day one.”

I narrow my eyes. “So you admit to trying to manipulate me?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Are you seriously ignoring my point?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “The problem is, you think we should be on equal footing. That’s absurd. I didn’t betray you—you owe me. ”

“What you really mean is you own me,” she says, her voice cutting.

I shrug, hiding the satisfaction the thought brings. “Call it what you want. I have leverage, Kat. Unless you’ve got an ace up your sleeve, you can’t say the same.”

Her eyes gleam, and I instantly wish I could take it back. She smiles, slow and dangerous.

“I think we both know that’s not entirely true,” she purrs. “There are different kinds of leverage, Nik. And if memory serves, you’re not great at resisting mine.”

“Well, may the best man win, I guess,” I say, meeting her smirk with one of my own.

Her only response is a wicked smile.