4. Veronica

Chapter 4

Veronica

I was still grumpy from walking outside, looking for Eli. It hadn’t been wise, and I’d ended up coughing for a good half an hour, but I wasn’t worried about that. I was more concerned that he hadn’t shown up.

Who did that?

Brought presents and then didn’t talk to someone? What the fuck was wrong with him?

By the time I got inside, I was fuming — stomping as I slammed the door. Okay, not slammed. Huffed and puffed as I pulled it into place and reminded myself to ask Luca to fix it. Then I booted my systems back on and pulled up my voice chat.

“Why are you in such a rotten mood? Did that Eli boy leave you a present again? Let’s see what it is,” Calia demanded, her voice crackling over the video group chat as she leaned closer to the screen as if I was going to hold something up to the camera immediately.

Calia was one of my original buddies from the old hospital days. Sadly, she lived with her dad on the East Coast, and I never got to spend time with her in person. She was busy with school, so our online time started to dwindle.

I’d been stuck in my hospital bed, weak as fuck from chemo treatments and a case of pneumonia, when my door had slammed open. Calia had slid in on her fuzzy socks, her ass hanging out, with a nurse hot on her heels. We’d been instant friends and kept in touch ever since. Calia had grown into a beauty. She was all curves and lush dark black hair. I’d admired it so much when I was young. Even now, I was envious.

I was pushed back in my gaming chair, feet up on my desk, safe from prying eyes and away from all the sex sounds my sister and her new boyfriend Pike were making every night. It seemed like they were doing it 24-7. Loudly. At least downstairs, I wasn’t in danger of accidentally running into him, eating her out on the kitchen counter, or something. Not that I would know what that was like .

When we moved here, I loved the bottom floor right away. It was isolated from the rest of the house and all mine. It had two full rooms and its own bathroom. There wasn’t even a real reason to go upstairs except for food, which was negligible since I had a fridge and a microwave. Natasha had fought with me about that but had caved after I complained about her boyfriend. I wanted to walk to the fridge in my underwear at night but couldn’t if Pike was here. I didn’t care about Luca or Enzo. They’d seen me at my worst and probably remembered my bare ass from the times that I had to wear a hospital gown. Honestly, they’d seen more of me than they wanted to.

“He did leave me something. How did you know?” I asked, biting a thumbnail. The girls would be all over me when I admitted I went outside like that.

“Because she knows you a little too well. You have that grumpy look on your face when he leaves something. Like you’re trying to poop.” Reed piped up. “You can’t deny you love the presents.” She batted her eyes and made a little heart sign. “You have it bad for him.”

“Be nice, you two. Don’t gang up on her.” Arabella was the peacemaker of our little group. “You’re not wrong, Reed,” she admitted. “ Honestly, Ronnie. The guy is a killer, and you’re mooning over him. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not mooning over him,” I snapped back. “I’m investigating.” They giggled like fucking hyenas, and after a few more minutes, I closed the chat, effectively hanging up on them. The notifications immediately started pinging through in the corner of the screen: , , and .

Ugh.

W hen I was little, reality was too much for me, too painful. There were hospitals, chemo treatments, nurses, and doctors—an assembly line of pain. None of the news had ever been good. Instead, I had learned to block it out. I would open my laptop and lose myself in those hidden layers of chat rooms and code. There were faraway places that my computer could take me. Places that my frail body could never go.

I would smell sea and sand instead of latex, antiseptic, and bleach.

I could go to fairs and amusement parks .

I could go on virtual dates.

I was the warrior of my dreams.

I was the conquerer.

I was the superhero.

With a computer in my hands, I could be anything. I could go anywhere.

As I had gotten older and my leukemia had gone into remission, there still hadn’t been any opportunities for me to be a normal kid. Those things had faded into the woodwork like sand disappearing from an hourglass. Instead, I had the best tutors and private nurses, away from the germs and the possible contaminants that might touch me in schools.

That made it sound as if I was like a princess stuck in a glass tower, which was accurate. My mother had left our father and the Bratva when we were small to give us a normal life, but when I got sick, she’d had to go back since we were broke. Even my mom’s fear of the Bratva didn’t stop her from bending the knee to her nephew, the pakhan of the Volkov Bratva.

My father had been a total dick. I remembered bits and pieces of him in our life and how glad I’d been when we’d left. There had been a lot of shouting in the bedroom, and I had vague recollections of him hitting my mom. Theirs had been an arranged marriage and an unhappy one. He was old-school Bratva and didn’t approve of much. My mother didn’t have any interest in her daughters being forced into a marriage like hers, so she’d taken us and run.

When I was diagnosed with leukemia, I remembered her and my sister agonizing over the lack of medical insurance, the hospital bills, and the hushed conversations that they’d held together. She didn’t tell me when she had caved and called our cousin for help. Maxim had been the newly declared head of the Volkov Bratva, but it was obvious when the men in Brioni suits showed up who was in charge. Natasha had sat, with her lips compressed tightly, beside my hospital bed with her disapproving glare while my mother spoke in Russian to the men.

Lucky for us, Maxim Volkov wasn’t an asshole. In fact, he was a total gem of a cousin, even if he was a criminal. He’d paid for Natasha’s school and my treatment. However, he did insist on bodyguards most of the time, which was an utter drag and a half.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever learn to live beyond lines of code or the symphony of keystrokes. The digital realm, where I could manipulate data, unravel secrets, and remain unseen, was where I thrived, so it was okay that I was still trapped between a keyboard and a screen. Lately, my obsession had been wrapped around the elusive Eli.

His absence of an online footprint had been meticulously erased or nonexistent. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that there was nothing or if it was the fact that there were crumbs that bugged me so much. It made me curious—curiosity and the cat and all that. But I saw through the emptiness. I always felt like I was a digital archaeologist, digging through layers. It made me feel almost like a real archaeologist. That was what I’d always wanted to be — a real one out in the dust and the grime. Like Indiana Jones swinging from vines, finding treasure, brushing off artifacts, and sword fighting.

Well, that was probably not what archaeologists did in real life, but that’s what they did in my imagination, and the chances of me going on an actual dig were .000000001%, so I figured I might as well romanticize the fuck out of it.

Just like I figured that I wasn’t doing any harm with my little hacking “hobby.” So what if I was poking around? Letting myself go down rabbit holes? I’d helped my sister, at least with her last case. That had been a lot of fun, so much so that I couldn’t help but continue chasing information about Eli.

Eli’s records while he was with his brother were slim, but they still showed a disturbing pattern of behavior as a child. Things that had intrigued me. I was invested now. There were questions that I had related to the serial killings we’d had a few months ago that Victor was responsible for. Maybe I was making stories up in my head, seeing shadows and conspiracies where there weren’t any. I didn’t understand why Victor had shown up here. It was bizarre.

“Yo, Ronnie,” my sister popped into my room, scaring me. Her brown hair swirled at the force she used to throw her head around the corner, her eyes comically wide.

She was genuinely the best big sister I could ask for. She’d been there through all of my treatments, making sure that I wasn’t ever alone at the hospital. Natty had been my rock. She’d always been my light through all the moments of darkness and despair.

“Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t you,” I griped back but without any heat.

I’d begged her to let me come with her to Arizona on this case when our cousin Dimitri had called her down here as a favor for his friend. I wasn’t bragging when I said my sister was a fantastic lawyer. If anyone would have been able to help Pike get off a murder charge, it would be Natasha. Of course, it had been game over once she had met him. I was convinced she and Pike would get married and have babies. I was happy about that. He was good for her and balanced her out. Now, they’d have an epic story to tell their kids.

Where’d you meet Daddy?

Oh, I got him off a murder charge.

I could see it now.

I’d also escaped San Diego, so that was a major plus. It allowed me an opportunity to branch out and try new things away from the smothering influence and oppressive weight of my mother. Then, there was whatever this was with Eli. Not that it was anything, but it was something to occupy my time. All in all, it was a successful move.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed at me in suspicion when I hesitated. She was used to my mind going a million miles an hour, but she also knew I’d go off on unhealthy tangents. I’d mistakenly told Natasha that Eli was leaving me things — that I wished I could talk to him. Now, she was going to hound me because she was worried .

“Doing anything important? Come upstairs for dinner.” She put her hands on her hips as her eyes scoured my office critically. I was sure she was looking at my piles of laundry I hadn’t picked up, my stack of dirty dishes and cottage cheese containers, and judging me. (That probably wasn’t true.)

Natasha was very accepting but was my opposite in every way. She was put together, and I was … not.

“I insist,” she added, rubbing her hand over the edge of the bookshelf. “You need real food. Not cottage cheese. That doesn’t count Ronnie.” She gave me her trademark look of disapproval and concern that was bound to make me feel guilty for neglecting my health. “I’m sending the cleaning staff down here tomorrow too.” She frowned at me. “It needs to be vacuumed and dusted. Things are going to start growing down here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dinner sounds nice. What is it? You aren’t cooking, right?” It was important to double-check these things around Natasha. She’d almost poisoned me once or twice with her attempts at cooking.

“Gah. My cooking isn’t that terrible. Come on, put some clothes on. I ordered pizza. It’ll be here in fifteen. We can make a salad. You need vegetables,” she paused and eyed me critically. “You know Mom has been hounding me to send you back.” I stiffened.

“You’re joking.” Rummaging around my closet, I pulled on a clean t-shirt and a pair of cut-offs. My heart started to pound just thinking about it. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

“I’m not joking, actually. She’s been calling non-stop about it. Come here, let me brush your hair. You look like you’ve been living outside under a bush.”

Robotically, I sat on the bed and let her brush through my hair, thinking through the horrific thought that my mother, Sasha Petrova, was contemplating forcing me back to Maxim’s San Diego mansion. Not that it was a terrible place to live, but I wanted a chance to be on my own. To breathe.

Natasha’s voice tugged me out of my thoughts. She was still brushing my hair, but I hadn’t heard a word she'd said. I’d been too wrapped up in my thoughts—Eli, the murders, the lies. Everything felt like one big conspiracy theory I couldn’t let go of.

“Ronnie?” Her voice was sharp now.

"Yeah, pizza sounds great," I mumbled, fingers itching to return to the keyboard. I could almost feel the pull of the dark web beneath my fingertips, like an invisible thread tugging me back toward the screen. "Just... let me finish this up."

Natasha’s hand paused in my hair, and I knew what was coming before she said it.

"Ronnie..." The warning in her voice was clear as day. "No more digging."

I forced a smile that probably looked convincing if you didn’t know me as well as she did. "Of course. No more digging."

I hadn’t lied. Not exactly. I wouldn’t dig right now, but I wasn’t done. I couldn’t be done. Eli was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Something about him didn’t sit right with me—something deeper than the lack of an online footprint. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like a deliberate erasure. And people only did that if they had something to hide.

“You’re coming then. To help make a salad and have pizza. Right?” she clarified.

“Yep. I want to hear all about what’s new with you and the MC Prez.” I did, too. That wasn’t a lie.

Following her upstairs onto the main floor, I nodded to Luca and Enzo, who were predictably already lounging in the kitchen, lurking for pizza. Our Bratva guards were part of the family at this point, but they were the big brothers we never had, with the stomachs to match. I sure hope Natasha ordered a lot of pizza.

“Hey guys,” I mumbled.

“What’s shakin’, Ronnie?” Enzo asked, not looking up from his phone as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

“Not much. Same old shit,” I answered carelessly as I went by, not bothering to detail anything because he wasn’t listening. I didn’t take offense. Enzo was assigned to guard Natasha, and his focus was there. However, I wasn’t sure how much longer my cousin would keep the two of them here. It wasn’t really necessary. Enzo did the majority of the business for the Bratva on his phone. I knew because I enjoyed having a peek now and then. On the whole, most of it was boring, so I didn’t bother checking very often.

“Finally decided to come out of your cave squirt?” Luca teased. He was propped near the refrigerator with a glass of chocolate milk. Luca had been with me on and off for years, and I’d confess that I had a massive crush on him when I was younger. Luca was deliciously handsome, but I thought of him as an older brother now, and I couldn’t even fathom putting my lips on him. It grossed me out just imagining it .

“Just for pizza. It’s temporary.”

“I don’t blame you. The pizza here is pretty amazing for such a shithole.” Luca wasn’t shy about vocalizing his dislike of the less-than-metropolitan area we lived in.

“Hey, dickface. Go back to Max then,” Natasha retorted, throwing a broccoli floret at him. She wasn’t tolerating their smack talk about her new beloved town. I still couldn’t believe she was planning to live here permanently, but I knew she wouldn’t leave Pike behind anytime soon.

“Well,” Luca hedged. “We need to talk about that, actually,” he said, throwing the floret into the sink, his face setting into serious lines.

Did he mean that they were going back to San Diego? I was equal parts excited and terrified. The short time that Luca wasn’t here when we first arrived was the only time that I’d been without a guard in years, and that didn’t count because we were with our cousin Dimitri. If Luca and Enzo left, Natasha and I would be here alone. Natasha’s face was slack with shock as she put down the knife she’d been using to cut vegetables. She was as surprised as I was by the idea that we’d be left here without a protective detail .

“Elaborate.” I pasted a bored look on my face as I twirled my hand in Luca’s direction. Sliding my ass onto a stool at the counter, I edged forward, hooking my toes onto the footpeg.

“Everything is stable here, and we’re needed back home. This was always temporary,” Luca said carefully. “Unless there is something that we don’t know?” He waited a moment for me to speak, giving me a stern look. The previous days flipped through my brain repeatedly: the chat messages, the trip outside, the gifts on the patio. Luca’s lips tipped in a smirk. “The Brotherhood and the Cobras can work together to provide a detail if necessary.”

“Whatever.” I shrugged as if I didn’t care, but I noted that Luca and Natasha observed me for any signs that I was invested. I was fairly giddy with the idea of freedom from a protective detail. That would mean that I’d finally be on my own. Well, Natasha would be here, but that didn’t count.

“We appreciate that you’ve made the time to come down and help,” Natasha said smoothly, picking up the cutting board and scooping the veggies into the salad bowl. I wasn’t even sure why she was making salad. Nobody was going to eat it if there was pizza. “I’ll touch base with Pike and Dimitri if we need anyone out here with us, but we have our security system up and running.” She winked over at me. “Right, Ronnie?”

“Right,” I answered, not missing the concerned glint in her eyes as she looked at me.

“Maxim would like to speak with you both this evening if possible,” Luca added.

“Delivery approaching,” Enzo said as my phone alerted me that a car was crossing the gate. I’d set a sensor to alert us at intervals. “I’ll get it.” He rose from his spot on the couch, unfolding to his impressive height.

“By the way. We’ll be installing a delivery box at the gate before we leave. That way, you can get deliveries there without opening the gate. It’ll be more secure,” Luca said. It sounded like overkill, but I wouldn’t complain at this point. If it made them feel better, then I was all for it.

Enzo brought the pizza boxes in, engulfing the house in the scents of tomato sauce and yeasty crust, making my mouth instantly water. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember the last hot meal I had.

Natasha had ordered five large pizzas, which was good because I loved cold pizza. I’d have to fight for my pieces since Luca and Enzo were absolute pigs. That wasn’t fair, I reminded myself. Men had big appetites.

“I’m so hungry,” I mumbled, opening the lids of the boxes and holding back a moan when I saw that steam rose from the pies. The pizza joint in town was one of the best surprises we’d found. It had some of the best pizza that I’d ever had. I didn’t care what the boys said. Sliding a piece of pepperoni onto my plate and slapping Luca’s grabby hands away from my sausage and olive pie, I slid another two pieces onto my plate before retreating to my stool. “Thanks, Nat, for ordering.”

She gave me an indulgent grin. “You’re welcome. Salad? I have ranch.”

I didn’t answer because my mouth was full of hot, gooey cheese. Who wanted lettuce when there was pizza? Ugh, that was the taste of sadness. No thanks. Shaking my head at her, I ignored her attempts to foist vegetables on me and tucked in, letting my eyes fall in bliss.