Chapter 16 - Pearl

The gallery wall of Orlov family members is nothing if not creepy.

I stand in front of it looking at the antique gold frames of gorgeous filagree before glancing at the oil paintings inside them.

There are several Orlov men in the pictures, spanning across decades. None of them wear a smile. All of them have the same dark look in their eyes that makes you think they could kill you without a second thought.

No surprise there.

From the research I've done, I know that the Orlovs are a dangerous bunch and right now I'm sitting right inside the middle of the snake's nest.

It's only a matter of time before somebody figures out the plan or thinks that I'm here to cause some sort of trouble.

There could even be somebody who figures out that Nicolo is the one who put me in the children's home, paid for me, and took care of me until I was old enough to make an earning.

The argument this morning with Maxim was the worst that we've had yet. When I finally left the bathroom, sure that he was leaving me alone, I started to explore the house, hoping that I could avoid him.

I've walked from nearly one end to the other, going through all three floors, looking at each bedroom, study, and library that there is. And I haven't found him.

It's a relief knowing that I don't have to deal with him right now.

I blew it out of proportion this morning, but if he'd kept questioning me, staring at me like he could see through me, like he was stripping away the layers of my very being to find out the truth that lay beneath, then he would have figured out I was lying.

I would have succumbed, and my guard would have fallen to pieces.

Though I spent years training to be able to lie well, it would have been nothing for him to see through me, realizing that there's more going on than he thinks there is. He knows how to get what he wants; people lie to him all the time.

At that point, my life would be in danger. I would have had to call Nicolo and tell him that I need to evacuate, and he would be pissed.

He's convinced there's a Bratva spy planted in the Italian mafia. He thinks that if I spend time snooping around Maxim's house when he isn't home, I'm going to be able to find out who it is."

Nicolo is underestimating him. Maxim isn't dumb enough to leave information like that sitting out.

When I turn the corner into the kitchen, it's different from the one in Russia. The kitchen in Long Island looks like something straight out of an Architect magazine. Very sleek and modern matte cupboards and stainless-steel appliances. A huge center island with an off-white marble countertop and camel leather barstools.

Laura looks up as I walk into the kitchen, stirring whatever she's got going on the gas cooktop.

The smell of chicken greets me as I draw closer to her, glancing in the pan, and seeing the discarded lemon halves on the counter beside her. "I don't know what you're making, but that smells delicious."

"Chicken piccata," Laura says, stirring the sauce and nodding to the bottle of white wine. "I know it's still early in the day, but I thought early lunch would be a good idea."

"You don't have to do this," I say, looking around for the cupboard that has plates in them, opening one and closing another until I find them. "I'm sure I would have managed just fine on my own making something to eat."

"You're the woman of the house. It's my job to take care of you and Maxim. I love cooking. If I hadn't worked for him and his family, I would have gone into culinary school. But times were different then. It was harder for a woman."

"If you're sure that you don't mind cooking." I put out the plates before grabbing the lemon halves and tossing them into the garbage disposal, running it for a second until they're gone.

"You don't have to worry about me, Miss. I have no problem with getting lunch ready for you. If there's anything else you need, let me know." Laura dishes up the food, takes a plate for herself, and disappears through a door that leads to a pantry and then a door on the other side.

Raising my eyebrows, I lean to the side, trying to get a better look at where she goes. It has to be some kind of staff lunchroom.

Maxim doesn't seem to be the kind of man who banishes staff to a different room to eat, but maybe Laura is more comfortable doing that. Perhaps it was something established by her.

I gather my plate with the breaded chicken in lemon sauce draped over it, the capers swirling to the side, and a little bit of the excess.

The gears in my mind start turning as I scarf down my lunch. The sooner I get through the food and leave the kitchen, the quicker I'll be able to go start rummaging through Maxim's study.

There's no sign that he's going to be home anytime soon, which makes this the perfect day for snooping.

With the fight this morning, it's not likely that he's even going to come home tonight. I've never known a man to come home after a fight. The few friends I used to have during college would fight with their boyfriends. The boyfriends would leave for the night. They'd come back the next day with flowers, pretending that nothing had ever happened.

Maxim isn't going to come home with flowers. He's more likely to come home with a gun demanding that I tell him the truth. I need something that I can use against him before he gets to that point. I need to find out who the mole is, so Nicolo is ready to make a move.

The second I finish my lunch, I put my dishes in the sink before heading to the study.

Everything in the study is dark and masculine, from the black paint on the walls to the deep wood accents climbing up them. The bookshelves are covered with old books, and I wonder if he has read them all.

I walk behind the desk, pull open the drawers, and shuffle through the papers scattered within them.

Maxim is a very regimented person but the state he leaves his paperwork in wouldn't suggest that.

I sort through the papers and skim through most of them until I start to see a repetition of the letter A used as a name.

There's something about seeing the letter repeatedly that doesn't quite sit well with me. If it is one of Maxim's men, this could be the mole.

I pull out all the papers in the drawers, laying them in the pile in the order they came out of each drawer and keeping them separate so I can stuff them back inside, making look like I had never been in here.

I take my time pulling out the phone that I had smuggled in via my wedding dress and snapping pictures of each occurrence on the page. I send the pictures to Nicolo, knowing that this is going to be something he wants to look at.

After taking a picture of each of the papers, I tuck them back into the desk with care, making sure it looks exactly as I found it.

I get up and go over to the bookshelf, starting to pull out the oldest-looking book. If there is something here it would make sense to hide them in a book. Specifically old decrepit books that people are less likely to pull from the shelf wanting to read them.

I sort through nearly half a dozen books before I find one that feels strange. As I pull it off the shelf, something inside the book slips around and it's then that I know I've found another hiding spot.

Footsteps creak in the hallway outside the door, and I pause, not moving an inch. I don't know who's outside the office, and I don't know what they want. The footsteps stop, but after a moment they continue, growing fainter as they get further from me.

As soon as I can no longer hear them, I open the book and pull out a small thumb drive. I pull out an adapter from my pocket, slipping it into my phone before plugging the drive into the phone and hitting the play button on the first audio file.

"A's been spying on Nicolo for weeks, where the fuck are we with the progress?"

"A said there's a shipment coming in. Heroin by the looks of things, and it should be a lot. We might be able to steal some of it from him."

Maxim's deep scoff comes onto the recording. "I have no interest in dealing with him. We have our product and it's better. I want you to sink that shipment. I don't care how you do it, get it done, and get it done before that boat gets anywhere close to fucking shore."

"I'll give the command to A."

The next recording comes on with a little bit of static in the beginning before someone clears their throat. "Our source found information that says Nicolo might be supporting a young woman."

"A woman." Maxim's deep chuckle comes from the other end of the recording, sending a shiver down my spine. Do they know about me?

"The only woman that piece of sniveling shit could ever have come around him would be one he has to pay for. If he's giving money to a woman and supporting her, clearly, she's sleeping with him. I don't know what the hell you guys think you're doing with that information. Find me something better."

"There's also rumors then floating around that they're starting to make new alliances to expand their territory."

"Now that could be a problem for us. I need you to find out how accurate this information is. Tell A to start digging deeper. Glue himself to Nicolo if he has to. Not as an advisor though. If this goes sideways, the first person they're going to be suspicious of is an advisor."

"What do you want him to be?"

"Tell him to start bottom, work his way up. I've got time. And time is what it's going to take to take this bastard down a peg or two. He's going to learn what happens when he crosses the Bratva, and he's never going to set foot in New York again."

"Nicolo hasn't been seen in New York for weeks. Do you want to us to believe that he's going to return?"

"If there's anybody that's going to return to town, it's going to be him, and I want to be ready for him when he does."

There are several more recordings, but I don't have the time to listen to them. Instead, I find a recording on the file labeled Antonio, opening it up.

"He doesn't have a clue what we're doing," a man with a nasal voice says.

"I want you to keep it that way. How close are you to him now?" Maxim asks.

"It's only a matter of time. He trusts me more than he trusts the others. I've been told that if things play out right, I'll have a promotion coming this week. After that, I should have unfiltered access to Nicolo."

"See that you do and do whatever it takes to get that position."

The recording ends, and I pull the USB from my phone, tucking it back in the book and putting it on the shelf. I stuff the phone and adapter into my pocket, pulling my shirt down to hide the outline of them.

My heart races, hands shaking as I head for the door. Antonio is one of Nicolo's most trusted men. He's been by his side for the last two years, since he was promoted after the last man in his position died.

If Nicolo knows that Antonio is a rat, Antonio is as good as dead.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the door handle on the study, listening to the other side for a moment before stepping out.

I shut it behind me, pulling it closed, careful to not make a sound.

"What are you doing here?"