by Brook Wilder
I’m about to say no when a face on the far left side of the screen catches my eye. It’s a photograph that looks like it was taken at some sort of ribbon-cutting ceremony. I stand and hurry to the desk. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“That guy right there, we just found out he’s working for the De Luca family and the twins. What the hell is he doing in this photograph?” Hogan’s face stares back at the camera. He’s standing off to the side like he’s there guarding someone.
I look at the background of the photograph and curse louder when I spot another familiar face. There are two figures standing right behind her, two figures I’d know anywhere. “That’s Camilla de Luca,” I tell Jack, pointing to the woman. “And those two? Those are the twins.”
“Why would they be at something like this?”
“Because she owns the fucking company funding the nonprofit. She’s the one I overheard talking about it at the funeral.” I run around the desk and rifle through the pages until I find an article that discusses funding for research at the nonprofit. It talks about how more money would become available through taxations of certain companies, one of which is run by the Ivanov family, and through stricter regulations involving outside influences on the medicinal market. “They would double their profits if that legislation went through. Triple them, even.”
“This company has direct ties to two congressmen,” Jack says, also on his feet now. “How much you want to bet the De Lucas have some sort of deal to split the profits? They might’ve even offered a deal directly to the twins to keep them from falling down with the rest of Mikhail Ivanov’s empire.”
“You have a copy of the legislation they’re trying to push through?”
Jack nods and opens several boxes, tears through more folders, then finally hands it to me. Most of it is legal jargon that makes my eyes cross, but then I get to the meat of the bill giving statistics on certain companies the bill would affect, mainly those using illegal means to gain access to therapies and prescription medications.
“The only person who would know the specifics of the business enough to write this legislation targeting the Ivanov family would be the twins.” I sink into a chair as the pieces slowly fall into place. “They married those two women to be out of the line of fire when the government cracks down on the Ivanov businesses.”
Jack pecks away at the keyboard, then taps the monitor a few seconds later. “And they’re no longer stalling it. They’ll be voting on the legislation within the month.”
The twins aren’t just trying to kill Danya; they are going to rip him apart along with everyone else that gets in their way. The second they find out I’m with child, his child, they’ll be coming for me. The Ivanov family isn’t just in New York. They’ll have to legitimize their rule with the rest of the family back in Russia.
“Jack, I need proof of a connection.”
“I can give you this picture, but finding a connection on paper will take time. As soon as I find it, I’ll contact you.”
He gets to work printing out what I need and making copies of what he thinks will help show the truth to Danya. I sit quietly while he gathers up the pages and think about the twins. They’re ruthless brutes who will kill someone without having a reason to, but neither of them is bright. They can’t draft this legislation, which means it had to be Francesco. The rest of the plan is just as intricate. If Elena is already pregnant, the twins would’ve had to have known what was in Mikhail’s will. With Vlad no longer a suspect in Mikhail’s death and a victim instead, that only leaves Lev, Nadia, and a few others. I have a mountain of new information, but half of it isn’t going to do me any good unless I can give Danya definitive proof the twins are behind Mikhail’s murder.
“Ah, Stella?”
“Hmm?”
“Is this enough proof for you?”
I take the freshly printed page he just handed me. It’s an article from a month ago where two men were quoted denouncing the Ivanov business and saying the only way to bring about change is to tear it down brick by brick. The men quoted only gave initials. A.A. Andrei and Aleksandr.
“Might be all we can do for now.”
“If I come across more, I’ll let you know. I’m assuming you need to get back to your car?”
I glance at the clock and curse. I shove the file into my large purse and rush out of the building to Jack’s car. He parks three blocks away from my Mustang.
“There’s so much more I have,” Jack tells me as he parks. “Dirt on all the families and their ties to local politicians, CEOs, everything. Once I can tie it all together with your help and Danya’s, I can get you out. I just need time, Stella. Don’t do anything rash just yet.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him I might not have a choice. If I wait too long to act, it’s not just the baby I’ll lose but Danya, too. Something tells me the twins aren’t going to wait for Elena’s baby to be born to kill Danya and me.
“Thank you for this. You really are a friend.”
He smiles, then tells me I should get going. I run to my car, not bothering with trying to get to the guards I left at the department store. I’m sure by now they’ve figured it out and if not, they will soon enough. I race home, trying to play out how this conversation with Danya is going to go. I can’t tell him I met with a journalist. He’ll go ballistic knowing I spoke to someone like that about the family, even if all I have are good intentions. As many times as Danya tells me I’m his family, he’s still loyal to the Ivanovs as a whole and all they do. He’s too damn loyal to the memory of his father.
I park and run past the guards at the front door of the mansion. I barely get a foot inside when Danya yells my name. He’s standing in the foyer, neck red, and hands clenched at his sides. ’Course he’s already in a shitty mood.
“Care to explain to me where the hell you’ve been this time?”
“I can explain, but I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to stand there looking like you’re going to strangle me,” I warn.
“Why can you never just listen to me? You ditched your guards again. You know what’s going on, you know everything, and yet you’re still running around like your life is not in danger. Like my brothers aren’t going to try and kill you to solidify their chances of taking over.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the black-market drugs?”
His brow furrows. “What?”
I dig out the file of papers and hold them up. “Why didn’t you tell me the Ivanov family is doing some good in this damn city? Why are you always just trying to tell me the bad side?”
“Stella, how did you find out? And what’s in that file?”
“Promise me you won’t get pissed. You won’t yell or threaten to, I don’t know, lock me in a room or something. Please, Danya,” I say, needing him to agree. “I told you I was ready to know everything. And this right here? This is why.”
“It doesn’t bother you what I did?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, reminding myself of what else I learned today. I have to play my next moves very, very carefully. The option to terminate the pregnancy should this game go sideways is still on the table and will be until I know we’ll make it out of this alive.
“No,” I finally say. “I told you I could handle it. Promise me.”
He grinds his teeth but finally does.
I hand over the file. “I think we should take this conversation to the study. You’re going to want to sit down.”
I can tell it’s taking everything he can to not let his anger at my disappearing act get the better of him. His chest heaves with each deep breath he takes. Then, finally, he turns and walks to the study. I follow, trying to get over the feeling that the next few moments will decide the rest of our futures.
Chapter 12
Stella
I pace slowly around the study, only pausing every few seconds to look at Danya poring over the file I gave him. When I started to tell him in a mad ramble what I found out, he took
the file from my hands and started to look through it. When I tried to talk again, he held up his hand and I grudgingly fell silent, only speaking when he asked me a question.
An hour has passed, and he’s looked through everything at least twice. He hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes.
“Who gave you this information?” he asks, startling me.
“A trusted source. I promised I wouldn’t reveal who he or she is until I knew you weren’t going to send in your goons.”
“Not sure Lukas will enjoy knowing you call him a goon.” He rubs his forehead, and there’s a hint of a smile playing around his lips. “You and this other person found all of this out?”
“We did, and I know I gave the guards the slip, but Danya, this is why I wanted you to talk to me. I’m good for something, you know.” I place my hand on the stack of papers. “This could lead you to the proof you need to stop your brothers and weed out the rest of the traitors, right?”
“It’s a start, if nothing else. I must say, Stella, I do think you were born to be a journalist.” He sounds both impressed and unsure of his words.
I shrug as I walk around the desk, a coy grin on my face, and pull his chair back. “I have my moments. You’re doing everything you can to keep us safe. So am I. This is me helping the only way I can.”
He takes my hands and kisses them both. “It’d be nice if you would stop disobeying my orders.”
I grind my teeth at his choice of words, but let it go. I’m barely keeping my emotions in check as it is. If we get into an argument, I’ll lose what little control I have left after all I learned today. “I know, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” he says with a deep-throated growl as he lifts me onto his lap and nuzzles my neck. “And they told me you left them outside a sex toy shop. Really?”
I laugh huskily as I straddle him and move my hips until his hands grab my ass. “Didn’t think they’d follow me in there. Though to be fair, I did walk through the store before I left. Got a few ideas …” I trail off and wink.
He hungrily captures my mouth in his and I laugh, trying to pull back.
“The file. Shouldn’t we do something about that tonight?”
“The traitorous bastards will unfortunately still be there in the morning. Tonight, I want my wife. The rest of the world can fuck off.” He picks me up easily in his arms and carries me upstairs to the bedroom. He grins wickedly as he kicks the door closed, and I bury any regrets about lying to him. Tonight is just for him and me, he’s right about that. All our problems will still be there tomorrow.
Chapter 13
Danya
I drop my duffel of gear in my study then flip off the light. Stella always leaves the lights on when I’m not home. I can never decide if it’s her way of calling me back to her, or if she’s too nervous to sleep in the dark when I’m not here. I enter the kitchen for a shot of whiskey, hardly noticing the blood on my hands.
The file Stella gave me certainly led to some good leads on figuring out the connection between the twins, the De Lucas, and Mikhail’s death. The two men I tortured and killed tonight gave me a bit more, but not enough to solidify my case of treachery. I need proof beyond a doubt to challenge my brothers’ places in the family. That is going to be extremely hard to come by with how well they’ve covered their tracks.
I shoot back the whiskey, wash out the glass, and then quietly go through the house, turning off lights as I make my way upstairs. Stella will be asleep by now, curled up in the center of our bed, clutching my pillow in her hands. She told me she could handle every aspect of my life, and I want desperately to believe her. She risked her life to get me that information. I’m still not happy about how she went about doing it, or that I have no idea who this anonymous contact is. I should find them and thank them for showing Stella that there is some good being done by the families. Not everything is death and gloom.
Once I’m in our room, I slip out of my boots at the door and walk along the wall to the bathroom. From the doorway, I can just make out Stella’s dark head of hair splayed on the pillow. I shut the bathroom door, flip on the light, and stare at myself in the mirror.
“Don’t you look like shit,” I whisper to myself.
Blood speckles my arms and neck. There’s a smear across my right cheek and I’m sure my black shirt is crusted with it; I just can’t see it. The bags under my eyes give away the fact that I haven’t slept too well since Stella gave me that file. We’ve been busy hunting down whatever leads we can find and digging into Camilla’s connection to the legislation being pushed through. After what I learned tonight, the bigger picture has finally come into focus. My life and Stella’s are in far more danger than I first assumed. The list of enemies ready to take us down keeps growing. I take my shirt off and ball it up. I chuck it with a vicious curse into the tub then rest my hands on the counter, shoulders hunched.
All I want to do is keep my wife safe, keep Mikhail’s legacy alive and thriving. The deeper into this shithole I get, the more I wonder if I’ll even be able to do that.
“Danya?” The bathroom door opens and there’s Stella, standing in her plush robe, squinting against the bathroom lights. “What time is it?”
“Late,” I say. “Go back to sleep.”
“Is that blood? Shit, Danya, are you all right?” She rushes forward and I let her pull me away from the sink. “Is this yours?”
I take her hands, fluttering over my chest and shoulders, as her eyes scan me for wounds. Before, I would’ve simply told her to go back to sleep again, but she wants to be a part of my life. She says she can handle it. “No, it’s not mine.”
My words hang in the air. Her eyes widen just a hint and then she’s reaching for a washcloth. She wets it with warm water, then she guides me to the edge of the tub. “Sit.”
“Stella, you don’t have to do this.”
“I’m your wife. This is what I do. Sit down, Danya.”
I breathe out heavily through my nose as I study her intently, searching for what she’s feeling. I sit down and let her wipe the blood from my cheek. The strong, comforting scent of fall surrounds me as her hair slips over her shoulder and hangs before my face. I start talking without meaning to, telling her what I found out thanks to the file she gave me. She doesn’t say anything, and I tell her everything I know so far. She continues to clean the blood from my shoulders, then my arms, her brow furrowing in concentration. When she steps back, I fall silent. I just told her the two men I spent the last few hours talking to are no longer an issue. She squares her shoulders as she tosses the washcloth into the sink.
“Good. Then we don’t have to worry about them.”
“No, just everyone else who wants us dead,” I mutter. That seems to break her strong façade and she steps away, turning her back to me. “Stella?”
“You’ll need to shower to get the blood out of your hair.” She goes to the shower, opens the door, and turns the water on hot. “I’m going back to bed.”
“I could use the company,” I say and go to rest my hand on her shoulder.
She flinches at my touch and ducks away. “Not tonight.”
“Stella, stop,” I say sternly, and she pauses at the door. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Do what?”
“Give me the cold shoulder when I’m only doing what you asked for. You want to know about the business and about what I do? Well, doll, this is it.” I spread my arms as I say it. “If you can’t handle it, if you’re just lying to me, then tell me now, and you can go back to living in your damn fairy tale.” I thought I’d taken out all my anger on the two men tonight. Guess I was wrong. I’m not mad at Stella, not entirely, but every bit of information I find only points to more danger. More turmoil. More potential ways for me to lose her. A few months ago, my life wasn’t all that complicated. Now, I can’t go twenty-four hours without wondering if we’ll make it through the night alive.
Her quiet laughter catches me
off guard. “Fairy tale? Seriously? Is that what you think I’m living in? Some goddamn fairy tale where there’s what, talking animals and fucking rainbows?” She’s still laughing, but it’s far from happy. “You think I don’t live in fear every day? Every day I wait to get the news that you’ve been killed. Every day I wonder if someone’s going to finally finish me off. This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a nightmare.”
“I should never have agreed to let you be a part of the business. The true business. You can’t handle it.”
“Of course I can’t!” she shouts as she whirls around. “You think I like seeing you murder people? I thought I could stop you from turning into your father, but that night in the warehouse, watching you shoot them … and tonight. You talk about killing men like it’s just part of your job.”