45. RAVEN

45

RAVEN

Whereas the world's doomsday was loud, with people's lives literally being set ablaze, mine comes in a businesslike, even somewhat-pleasant voice with a Russian accent. "You are fucked, Raven."

Tsariuk didn't say that but his call pretty much sums it up.

It feels weird not because I'm talking to one of the most powerful men in the Northern Hemisphere. And not because he killed people for less than giving his precious daughter a side-eye. But because he is the father of the girl I was fucking. Not only that, the girl I still have an interest in. I don't know how, but he knows it.

"I know my daughter is at Ayana, Mr. Levi," he announces.

There is no point in lying or arguing. I try to find words that won't insult him by being too vague.

"Now we know that too," I say.

"Not because of what I just said."

"No."

Good. It's better not to beat around the bush with a guy like this.

"I also know that you are involved with her," he says.

I don't clarify that I was but not anymore. For a second, I wonder if he has a chart on his wall, sort of like those butcher charts, where he marks which part of my body he'll cut off first.

"Why are you not calling her ?" I ask carefully.

"I tried, Mr. Levi." His voice is calm and somewhat indifferent, though the Russian accent can make even the gentlest words sound like a death sentence. "She never responded. Probably for the best."

I cock a brow. "How so?"

"Because she can disappear again. So, I am talking to you. I hope we understand each other."

"I see." And maybe this is a good time to tell him that I might not be the best person to talk to. "What makes you think I care what choice she makes?"

"Please, do not play stupid, Mr. Levi."

"Milena and I are not involved anymore," I say.

"But you still have a tracking app on your phone for her. And her entire Ayana account. And motion sensors around her house. Am I wrong?"

My stomach twists.

I've seen a fair share of hackers infiltrating others' profiles. I literally watched entire lives live-streamed through a camera on their personal mobile devices. I know a guy who can look at a name in front of him, pick up his phone, and get into any bank account, social security or DMV record. I'm not even talking about social platforms—that's child play.

But this is Ayana. Its private network is protected by a complex security system and overlooked by serious hackers who are paid a hefty amount of money to do just that—monitor potential breaches. You need to have people on the inside, in the fucking Center, to know what's going on in my phone.

I feel like I'm under a microscope. Did he read my messages too?

"There is no need to panic, Mr. Levi," that same calm voice says.

I am not panicking. I am fucking cornered .

"I would like you to get me in touch with my daughter. Do it in such a way that she has no option but to talk to me. I would hate to fly there with my team "—there is no way to miss the special accent on "team," whether that means bodyguards or assassins or a fucking army of headhunters—"and make a spectacle. Do you understand me? It would be a very unpleasant ‘parents' week,' if you know what I mean. Mr. Ortiz would agree."

Oh, there we fucking go. Fucking fuck.

"Maybe it is better you talk to Archer Crone," I say, trying to keep calm.

"I will. Considering he lied to me before, you will set up that meeting."

"Please, let me clarify. He never did."

"Is that so?"

Unlike Butcher, who is a reckless nobody, Tsariuk is a different kind of dangerous. And I don't mind being overly polite. "Mr. Crone didn't know about Milena until very recently."

"But you did."

I don't answer. He knows he is right.

"You see, Mr. Levi? You did that against your better judgment, yes? And against Mr. Crone's interest? I am intrigued. I think …" He pauses, and I can feel him savoring what he is about to say. "I think you did that because you were and still are involved with my daughter. Please do not interrupt me. I do not like petty lies. I think you have leverage, Mr. Levi. I think she listens to you. You will help me out. And I will make sure that everyone gets out of this predicament with minimal damage."

"But damage, nevertheless?" I probe.

"You are an insightful man, Mr. Levi. I have heard that about you. But there is always damage. I would like certain compensation. We will talk later about it. And I would like my daughter back."

It's the latter that makes my world spin. He can't. And not because I don't want her to leave. Or because just the thought of never seeing her again makes me want to take out my stiletto and slash myself in a crazy jigsaw pattern and bleed to death. But because she doesn't want it. I know it.

"How do I contact you?" I ask.

"If you are trying to take your sweet time, you cannot, Mr. Levi."

"I am not," I say, adding for emphasis, "Mr. Tsariuk."

There is no way out of this. The thing that blows my mind is that he called me . Me , not Archer. Not Marlow, the head of security, and I'm sure he knows that by now. Not Ortiz, who was hired by him at some point in the past.

He is calling me about his daughter who doesn't want anything to do with me. But I do. And I will handle it in the way that's best for her.

I close my eyes, trying to work out a scenario in my head, then start talking. "I would like you to give me time to contact Mr. Crone and discuss the situation."

"Mr. Levi." This time, his voice is sharper, the pause is longer, and the silence is dangerous, though Tsariuk's calmness is unfazed. "I have no time for games and diplomatic ass-licking. You have half an hour. I want a conference call with Mr. Crone, you, and I. Hopefully, you can get Milena on it."

"I can't. She is working a shift. In surgery," I lie.

Working a shift… Only after saying it, I realize how ridiculous it sounds to tell one of the richest men in the world that his daughter is at work at a small medical ward. But then, I need time to figure out how to make a deal with Tsariuk without Maddy's emotional involvement.

"Very well. You have half an hour. You fail, and I fly to Zion. And no, I do not need clearance from the air patrol to do so. You understand what that means, yes?"

Nothing good, for sure. "I'll get it done."

"I call you in half an hour."

The line goes silent.

I dial Archer, who picks up right away.

"Tsariuk wants a conference call in half an hour," I say as calmly as I can.

I hear Archer's soft cursing. "Does that mean you spoke to him?"

"He contacted me. He knows about Maddy. Has for a while."

"When?"

"Just seconds ago."

"Get to the Center. I'll have it ready."

It's the fastest I've ever driven in my life. I'm at the Center in five. Marlow and Ortiz are already there, and I recite my conversation with Tsariuk, word for word. Everyone's quiet when I finish.

Marlow studies the giant office hall, the surveillance screens on the walls, the cameras in the corners of the high ceilings.

"You think he is watching?" he asks.

No one responds. Because the possibility of it is fucked up.

We have ten minutes until we get another phone call from Tsariuk, so only Archer and I go into his office and stand in front of the big screen on the wall set up for conference calls and ready to go.

Both of us cross our arms at our chests. The silence is eerie. We waited long enough, and now we are fucked because Tsariuk knows we stalled. Now he will want to know why.

"You and Maddy," Archer finally says.

"There's no me and Maddy," I retort.

"There is. You are just on pause because you are being stubborn."

I smirk. He doesn't know shit.

"Do you know why Tsariuk contacted you?"

I nod.

"Yeah," Archer drawls. "You are the only one who thought what was happening between you and Maddy was a secret. Sonny wouldn't shut up about you two. ‘Maddy and Rave this, Maddy and Rave that.' Kat, Marlow, Kai, the guards, for Christ's sake. All of Ayana was talking about it. I don't know precisely when Tsariuk infiltrated our security, but there was no Maddy without Raven in the last, let's see, probably over a month."

Strangely, I didn't even notice. Did I get carried away that much?

"We need to discuss what we will tell Tsariuk," I say. "We need a plan, Archer. Because he wants her back. And I'm not giving her to him."

"Oooh, so you do want to keep her."

"It's not that. She wants to stay. And I want what's best for her. It's not about me and her. It's about her . So, let's figure this out."

Archer still doesn't understand my reasons when we discuss multiple scenarios, but my latest suggestion raises his eyebrows.

He is quiet and stares at me with a strange look, then walks toward the window overlooking the Center. I follow his gaze and see Katura chatting to Marlow and Ortiz. And I know what he is thinking.

"I think you are an idiot," he says. "What you are offering works for Ayana all right. But not quite for you."

"It works for me," I retort.

He nods. "You are still being stupid. But I can't say anything. If I were you, I would've done the same thing."

Relief washes over me, not that I need Archer's approval for what I am about to offer Tsariuk.

He looks at his watch.

"Corlo, close the blinds, lock the door," he orders his virtual assistant.

The room turns into a brightly lit gray rectangle with no outside light or view.

My heart starts pounding.

Then my phone rings.

Unknown ID.

I pick up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Levi," says the familiar voice.

"I am with Archer Crone. I will give you his video chat ID?—"

"No need for that," he cuts me off, hangs up, and right away, the screen on the wall lights up with the incoming call.

Archer and I exchange looks, and I take a deep breath when Archer says to the virtual assistant, "Accept the call."