Chapter Seventeen

Ilya

"H ow fucking dare you send one of your goons after me over a professional disagreement." I'd listened to the voicemail three times already, Brooke's tone wasn't just angry, she was furious. I understood why, but I didn't know what it had to do with me.

Yes, I was upset about what she told me, but I wasn't upset with her, and I didn't blame her for what she'd found. It was exactly why I wanted her on my accounts, because I knew she wouldn't sugarcoat anything. She'd always been detail oriented and that was what I needed to set me up for success here in the US. In light of my recent conversation with Dmitri, I was more grateful to have her on my side than ever, professionally if not personally.

"Dmitri," I called out angrily.

A minute later he appeared in my office.

"Have you been looking into the problem with the accounts?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "No. I was waiting for you to let me know what you wanted me to do."

My brows arched. "Usually, you take a more proactive approach in these matters."

"You seemed conflicted, so I waited. Would you like me to look into it now?"

"Yes, but there is a more pressing matter here." I tapped my phone and Brooke's voice filled the office once again. I watched Dmitri, not because I didn't trust him—I trusted him with my life—but because I needed to study his reaction to her words.

As he listened, Dmitri scowled. "Goons. What goons?" There it was, the confusion.

"Exactly! That is what I'd like to know. Brooke and I spoke about it at Maria's Cantina, and then I told you about it here in the office. Who else would know about it, to the point of acting on my behalf?"

"Good question. I'll start at the cantina. You should probably speak to your girl."

I smiled. "She's not my girl, and after this, she might not be my accountant either." I jumped to my feet and shoved my phone in my jacket pocket. "I'd better get over there."

Dmitri's lips twitched and he gave a curt nod. "See you in an hour?"

"Let's make it two, this might take a while." I hoped it would because that meant Brooke was open to listening. If not, I would have to make her listen.

***

"Mr. Kuznetsov, welcome!" The receptionist shot out of her chair with a wide smile. "Are you here for Mr. Montrose?"

"No, I need to speak with Brooke." I didn't wait for her to lead me to the office because I knew where it was. "Thank you," I added as I walked away.

All eyes were on me as I walked through the small office, probably wondering why I looked so angry. I didn't give a damn, though. My only focus was on Brooke.

She sat at her desk and rubbed her temples. Her shoes were discarded, and she flexed her toes, looking as if every part of her body was filled with tension. And worry.

I knocked on the closed door and moved away from the glass windows that made up most of her wall. I waited a full minute before the door opened and Brooke appeared. She was flawless, with her long brown hair falling around her shoulders, big green eyes lined expertly, and her pink lips pulled into a bland smile. There was no hint of the earlier vulnerability I'd witnessed moments ago.

"Brooke. Hi. Can we talk?"

It was barely visible, but she tensed and looked around the office at large before she shrugged. "You might have started with a phone call, but sure, I guess we can talk." She turned away and hurried back to her desk, which provided a large oak barrier between us. "What would you like to talk about, Ilya?"

I gently closed the door and leaned against it, leaving a gulf between us. "I did not send anyone after you, I swear. I wouldn't do that."

She scoffed. "Then maybe one of your associates simply took it upon themselves to do what you wanted them to do."

"Never," I stated with absolute certainty. "No one would act without my express wishes, and I didn't want anything done to you for simply doing your job and highlighting a discrepancy."

"You were upset," she accused.

"I am still upset," I answered honestly. "I believe what you found to be correct, but I haven't been able to pin down the culprit yet. Only Dmitri and I know what you have found, which creates another issue." It was the one issue that bothered me as I drove from Envy to Montrose Accounting—how the fuck did anyone else even know what she'd found? I'd chosen the cantina for our meeting in the same way I chose the other venues. A different place every week so that I was not observed to have a routine—and choosing a time when I knew there would be few other diners, and not making a reservation. Perhaps it was paranoia, Winter Valley was not New York City or Moscow, but old habits died hard, and one did not get to my position in the bratva by being careless.

Brooke let out a heavy sigh and took her seat, knitting her fingers together on top of the desk. "I told Ruben what I found after I called you this morning. No one else has access to your files, which are password protected."

"I'm well aware."

Her jaw clenched. "Then why?"

"I don't know, Brooke, that's why I'm here. I need you to know that I would never send anyone to scare you or harm you." She looked away, and at that moment I was sure that Ruben had shared with her the rumors that had already begun to swirl about me. The Kuznetsov Group was a legitimate business, but my family's links to the mafia were for obvious reasons well hidden. It didn't stop talk and idle speculation though. "I wouldn't."

"Then who would, Ilya? I can't have this kind of, I don't know, uncertainty in my life. This potential danger is unacceptable."

Her words were an unanticipated knife to my heart. There could be no hope for us if she couldn't accept the inherent danger that came with being in the bratva. "You are not in danger. I can promise you that."

She stared at me, disbelief written all over her face. "I'm not sure how you can say that with a straight face. You don't even know who this person was. He knew my name and he knew I had—" she stopped suddenly and looked like she was having to calm herself down. "And he told me to call you and say I made a mistake, so, clearly, they knew about the account irregularities. He knew a lot."

I couldn't argue with her, so I didn't try. I rounded the desk until we were close enough that I could see five different shades of green dotted with flecks of gold in her eyes. "I promise to keep you safe, Brooke."