9. Mikhail

Anatoly and Raoul pop their heads into the doorway Viviana just sprinted through. "Nice reunion?" Anatoly smirks, glancing down at my painfully obvious erection.

I scowl at him and adjust my pants.

Raoul at least has the decency to hide his amusement and focus on the task at hand. "Should I follow her?"

"Don't let her out of your sight," I order.

Raoul nods and disappears down the hall.

I balance on the edge of the desk while Anatoly crosses his arms and pouts. "I could have followed her."

"I thought it might be hard to do your job when you're so busy being a smug bastard."

"You're right. I am busy being a smug bastard." He drops into the chair in the corner. "Am I right to assume the flowers from your Greek princess aren't what has your tent pitched?"

The roses from Helen are sitting on the corner of my desk. I don't need to reread the card to remember what it said. All the pieces are falling into place. Congratulations. XO, Helen.

Helen is right. All of the pieces are falling into place.

My alliance with the Greeks will be solidified soon, giving me access to their ports all along the Eastern seaboard. I'll control imports of millions of dollars' worth of illegal weapons, utilize the Bratva's already robust cross-country shipping infrastructure, and then launder the profits through Cerberus.

I'm going to own every part of the process from top to bottom. The puzzle is almost complete.

But now, there's Viviana. A rogue puzzle piece I didn't expect and can't seem to place.

"She's lying about her name," I tell him. "She's calling herself Margaret now."

Anatoly frowns. "Sounds like a cat lady. Doesn't suit her."

"No, it doesn't. It also doesn't make any sense. Trofim hasn't poked his head out even once since I exiled him. She has no reason to be afraid."

"Maybe she's not running from Trofim."

"Me?" I ask in shock.

"Or maybe this has nothing to do with you. Maybe she's running from her father," he guesses. "Don Giordano is a hard-ass. I mean, he did sign her up to marry Trofim in the first place. He's not winning any Dad of the Year awards. Maybe she's trying to hide from him."

"If it had nothing to do with me, then why wouldn't she just tell me that? She knows I know who she is, but she's still lying."

Why do I even fucking care?That's the real question.

"Why do you even fucking care?" Anatoly asks, reading my mind.

"Because it's my job to know what is going on around here. If someone is lying to me, there's probably a good reason. I want to know what it is."

He holds up his hands in surrender. "You haven't seen this girl in, what? Four? Five years?"

"Six."

"Okay, six years," he amends. "I just don't see how she could be relevant to anything we have going on."

That's what I've told myself for the last six years. Viviana doesn't matter. I fucked her out of my system. I dealt with her.

Except, I didn't. She's still lodged in my chest like a piece of shrapnel I can't claw out. I want to know why.

Anatoly leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Is this about Helen?"

"What does Helen have to do with anything?" I snap.

"Well, she's your fiancée, but your balls are blue over some other woman. Call me crazy, but that doesn't sound like things are healthy at home."

"Helen and I don't live together."

"Yet," he agrees. "But you will. Soon."

All the pieces are falling into place.

For me, that's the ports and Cerberus.

For Helen, it's the engagement ring that fell onto her finger last week.

"It's a political move. The Greeks have the ports. I need the ports. Marrying Helen gets me the ports."

"But you hate her," he fills in.

"I don't hate her."

I'd have to feel something for Helen in order to hate her. Unless someone else brings her up or she's standing in front of me, I don't think about her.

"I feel nothing for her," I clarify. "It's a good thing. No feelings means things don't get messy."

Suddenly, Anatoly gasps and jerks around. I drop my hand to the holster at my hip, ready to take on whatever threat is coming for us.

Then Anatoly presses a hand to his heart and eases back in his chair. "Sorry, bro. For a second there, I thought Trofim was in the room. You sounded just like him."

I drop my hand and scowl in disgust. "Watch your fucking mouth."

He isn't wrong, though. I've caught myself wondering if I'm doing the right thing.

I'd never hurt Helen the way Trofim hurt Viviana. But I'm never going to love her, either. I'm not going to give her the dream of a happy marriage I see in her glazed-over eyes every time she looks at me.

I'm not going to give her even a sliver of what I had with Alyona and Anzhelina.

If Helen hasn't figured out what I'm offering by now, that's her problem. As pakhan, I have bigger shit to worry about than feelings: hers or mine.

My phone rings and Raoul's name lights up my screen. "You have eyes on her?" I ask as soon as I answer.

"Yeah. I see her."

"Is she running?"

"I don't…" Raoul hesitates. "I don't know."

Anatoly leans in, frowning. "What does that mean? How does he not know?"

I turn the speakerphone on and balance my phone on my knee. "Is she packing bags? Heading to a train station? Booking an airline ticket? For fuck's sake, Raoul, give me something."

"She's at an elementary school."

"Maybe it's like a sanctuary situation," Anatoly shrugs. "You know, like, when people escape the law by hiding out in a church."

I don't have the patience for Anatoly today. Or any day, honestly. "Last I checked, I'm not the law and an elementary school isn't a fucking church."

"Just an idea," he mumbles.

I roll my eyes. "Can you see what she's doing, Raoul?"

Viviana asked if I was married. It's not crazy to think she might be. Sometime in the last six years, she settled down. Maybe her sweet, non-criminal husband is an elementary school teacher.

I remember the way her leg felt wrapped around my hip and decide I'll fight a teacher if I have to. No way he deserves all of that.

No one does.

No one but me.

"She went in a few minutes ago. I haven't seen anything else yet. I can go inside if you—Shit, there she is," he hisses.

"Is she wearing a disguise?" Anatoly asks. "Don't let her escape!"

I swat my brother away and grab the phone, pacing back and forth across the office. "What's happening, Raoul?"

"She almost saw me. But she… She's with…"

He takes a deep breath. I hear car horns blaring. Scattered voices on the sidewalk.

"Raoul?" I bark. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Sorry, but she's with a kid."

Anatoly stands up. "Like a hostage situation?"

"No. They're holding hands. The kid is smiling. I think… I think she's his mom."

Anatoly turns to me, eyes wide.

I never told him Viviana and I had sex, but he's always suspected. It's why I know exactly what inane theory is going to pour out of his mouth next.

"How old is the kid?" Anatoly steals my phone away, talking directly into the speaker.

"How should I know?"

"If you had to guess!" Anatoly pushes.

Raoul sighs. "Probably five. Maybe six."

Anatoly points at me, eyes wide. "Holy shit. Holy shit!"

I snatch my phone out of my brother's hand and turn off the speakerphone. "Stay on them, Raoul. Let me know where they're headed and I'll meet you there."

I pocket my phone, but Anatoly is still pointing at me.

"What? What could you possibly be thinking, Anatoly. There's no way I could ever guess what you're going to?—"

"It's your kid!" he interrupts, grinning like a devil. "That is your bastard kid."

"Shut the fuck up. No, it's not." I grab my wallet and head for the door. "Stay here. Make sure all the necessary paperwork gets filed before the shareholders leave."

"Sure, yeah, don't worry about it," he calls after me. "I'll hold down the fort here…"

For a second, I think he's going to leave it there. For a second, I have faith in my brother.

Then he finishes the sentence.

"While you're gone meeting your son!"