Nash Security Solutions

by Lola Silverman

  Sergei Yurevich laughed outright. “I say listen to your son, Stedman. And if Ralston doesn’t mind, I would very much like an introduction to the lady in blue.”

  Ralston waited to see how his father would react. Yurevich was a New York investor with a ton of cash who liked to play both sides of the law. Rumor suggested he was deeply placed in the Bratva’s New York branch. Doing business with Yurevich would easily bring additional clients that far surpassed any significant investment capital that Ettinger might offer.

  Chelsea actually started snapping her fingers at him as though he were a dog. “Ralston!”

  “My, my,” Yurevich chided. “I had no idea that the Hyde-Piersons could be ordered about like lapdogs.”

  All at once it appeared that Stedman had heard enough. Ralston barely dared to inhale as he watched his father step toward the middle of the room where Chelsea was looking quite distressed.

  “Ms. Ettinger,” Stedman said sternly. “Your behavior is an embarrassment. I suggest you tone it down or risk exposing your family to even more humiliation.”

  “Humiliation?” Chelsea looked surprised. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the humiliation of being publicly dumped by Ralston.” Stedman apparently considered the entire situation over and done with. Ralston hid a smile. His father giveth and his father taketh away. Or at least that’s what was happening in the Ettinger’s world.

  “Ralston!” Chelsea protested weakly. “You can’t be serious.”

  Ralston held his breath as his father held his arm out to Analise. “My dear, if you would be so kind as to come with myself and my associates to the Thayer Room? We have some business to discuss and would very much appreciate some feminine company.”

  Ralston met Analise’s gaze. The triumph he saw there left him feeling uncertain as hell. He had no doubt that she had played her way in on purpose. What remained to be seen was how the game would end up.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  There was no doubt in Analise’s mind that the first and most pressing barrier between her and Ralston had been broken. Chelsea Ettinger had thrown a fit in a public place. She had been goaded, of course, but her reactions were her own responsibility. Ava had been right. Analise was starting to realize that Ava was always right.

  Touching Stedman Hyde-Pierson’s arm as they walked up the much wider main staircase toward the third floor and the Thayer Room was a little bit like courting a rattlesnake. Analise did not believe for one second that she had truly been accepted into the fold. Not with Stedman. She had earned a trial run and that was all. The main part of the game was still to be played.

  Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and she hoped that Stedman could not somehow feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath her skin as they walked. The man kept up a steady stream of inane babbling chatter about the room, about the guests, and about Ralston as though he were challenging her to either contribute or prove that she could remain silent. Since silence was her preferred state of being, Analise kept her mouth shut and hoped that was the right course of action.

  Each second that passed made her more and more acutely aware of Ralston behind her on the stairs. He was walking with the other dark-eyed, dark-haired gentleman. If the guy’s Russian accent was anything to go by, he was very likely connected to the Bratva in some significant way. That meant he was a worthwhile individual to schmooze with. The way he had been looking at Analise suggested there had to be some way that she could use those stupid feminine wiles to work him over. If she only knew how to utilize such a weapon.

  Smile. Just smile at him and listen a lot. Men like to talk about themselves. Right?

  They quickly arrived inside the Thayer Room. It was quieter up here although the beautiful space was set up for a large party. A dark wood table sat center stage in the room, and a sideboard full of buffet dishes filled one long wall.

  It was Ralston who pulled out a chair for Analise and seated her in the center of the table. Each man took a chair for himself. Analise did not miss the significance of Sergei’s immediate choice to place himself closest to the door. She and Ralston had their backs to the exterior walls, which left them a view of the door, and Stedman sat beside Sergei. It was a congregation of predators all attempting to outmaneuver each other before the negotiating began. Moments later, a legion of tuxedoed waiters set several large steaming platters of appetizers on the table along with a bottle of red wine and a tray of glasses.

  “Should we wait for Anton?” Stedman asked the other Russian.

  “Nyet.” The dark haired man waved his hand dismissively. “When he arrives it will take him no time to be brought up to speed.”

  RALSTON WAS HAVING a little difficulty believing that they were really going to talk business in front of Analise. A pretty dress and a new hairstyle and these clandestine men were willing to forget all of their caution? Really? His mother apparently knew more about men and business than he had given her credit for. Dammit. Why was Ava always right?

  “Sergei Yurevich,” Ralston said with a touch of formality. “Please let me introduce you to Analise Vega.”

  “Analise,” Sergei murmured. He stood up and leaned over to take her hand across the table. He kissed her knuckles in an exaggerated courtly fashion. “It is such an honor to meet the beautiful woman who so very neatly put Miss Ettinger in her place.”

  “I did no such thing,” Analise said coyly. “Chelsea put herself in her place. It always happens eventually when people who behave badly are left to their own devices. Don’t you think?”

  “Well said,” Sergei said, raising his eyebrows. “A clever woman, then.” He turned to Stedman. “And how is she affiliated with you?”

  “I work for Ralston, actually,” Analise said in a conversational tone of voice. “I was assigned to be his bodyguard.”

  Sergei gave Ralston a look of approval. “Deadly as well. What a stunning and very effective weapon.” Then Sergei nodded to Stedman. “I commend you on your brilliant and very effective ruse.”

  “Thank you,” Stedman said with a toothy grin. He picked up his wine glass and managed to conceal his pinched look behind the rim.

  Ralston wondered if his father was actually going to pretend that this was somehow his idea. Was this association with Sergie so important? Why? If old man Sokolov was over in Russia calling the shots and pulling the strings, why did they even want to involve a Pekhan from another district? It seemed like a recipe for disaster.

  “Analise is a very valuable member of the security team,” Stedman said pointedly. Ralston wanted to claw his father’s eyes out for the look he was giving Analise, but she seemed to have no trouble holding her own.

  She returned Stedman’s look tit for tat. “I am a valuable member of the team, but my main loyalty is and always will be to Ralston.”

  “Ah!” Sergei put his hand to his chest. “Then every man here should envy you, Ralston. A woman in love is a force to be reckoned with.” Sergei clapped Stedman on the back. “I trust her, my friend!”

  Stedman bared his teeth, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Ralston nodded to Sergei. “I trust her as well. Analise has saved my life several times already.”

  “Not to mention saving you from that shrew Chelsea, eh?” Sergei teased. “Well done, man!”

  ANALISE WAS JUST feeling as though things were going in a good direction when another man walked into the room. She recognized the short Russian immediately. It was Anton, second-in-command over the Sokolovs and supposedly on the same level as Stedman although nobody could ever explain that one to Analise’s satisfaction.

  The tension in the room seemed to rise exponentially. It was very obvious from the way that Stedman and Anton eyed each other that neither man trusted the other. Why they were here, now, for this meeting seemed both suspicious and on the verge of ridiculous.

  “What is she doing here?” Anton demanded, pointing at Analise. He gestured to Stedman. “This was supposed to be a private meeting.�
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  “Sit down, my friend.” Sergei waved his hand with exaggerated geniality. “Order a drink. Have some vodka and relax. The woman is loyal to Ralston.”

  Analise offered Anton a cool smile. He didn’t return the expression. Instead, he yanked out a chair and flung himself down. Slapping the tabletop with his hand, he seemed uninterested in the food or the drink. Apparently, Anton was a straight to the point kind of guy.

  “If you want her here.” Anton pointed first to Analise and then to Stedman. “Then you can be responsible for what she knows.” Anton flashed Analise a cold smile. “I can always kill her later.”

  Analise did not miss a beat. “You can try,” she agreed.

  “Ah, see?” Sergei gave a hearty laugh. “Delightful woman!” Then Sergei waved his hand emphatically. “Let us talk business!”

  It was strange, but Sergei’s Russian accent seemed to come and go. What was that about? Analise filed it away in the back of her mind for further reflection and tried to focus on seeming completely relaxed as she continued to nurse her glass of champagne. Beside her, Ralston’s leg pressed up against hers beneath the table. It was a subtle and yet wonderful reminder that she was not alone. Not here and now, and hopefully not ever.

  “We don’t need you here, Sergei!” Anton stabbed his finger at the other man.

  Sergei seemed unperturbed by the outburst. “You say this, and yet Stedman has told me that I’m very much needed. It appears the two of you are having a disagreement about the organization of your”—the man gave a dismissive wave—“organization.”

  Oh, he was good. He was. Analise cocked her head. He was also very odd. The accent that came and went, the very lackadaisical attitude, and, truthfully, his instant willingness to trust Analise was extremely unusual as well. Sergei wasn’t exactly playing on the up and up. That much Analise knew for certain. She only wished that she had some way of conveying her suspicions to Ralston. What to do? What to do?

  “You!” Anton made a low sound of disgust. “You run your Bratva in New York, and you pretend to be a law-abiding businessman. This is what you tell us. So what? What do you bring to Boston?”

  RALSTON GLANCED FIRST at his father and then at Anton. Great. They were having a pissing contest. Perfect. That was just what they needed. Ralston was trying to prove that he was a capable addition to their business acumen, and they were currently acting like bullies on a playground whining about whether or not they wanted the new kid to play.

  “You know,” Analise drawled. “Perhaps instead of arguing about whether or not the two of you agree on the necessity of adding Mr. Yurevich to your circle of friends, you could try asking him what government agency he’s working for.”

  Ralston swung around and stared in open surprise at Analise. She didn’t return the gaze. She was too busy giving Sergei Yurevich a sweet smile. Stedman was gaping, and Anton looked as though he didn’t know whether to believe Analise or call her a lunatic. The entire room had gone silent, and in the uncomfortable aftermath of Analise’s bombshell statement, she was the only one who seemed completely put together. Well. Analise seemed very calm, as did Yurevich. Sergei was simply staring at her as though he were trying to figure out what game she was playing.

  “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here, little girl,” Sergei drawled. “But it won’t work.”

  Analise snorted. The sound was almost amusing coming from such an elegantly dressed woman, but to Ralston it proved beyond a doubt that his Analise was alive and well inside that sexy blue dress.

  “I spent far too much time in the service,” she began, “to not smell the stench of a fellow operative.”

  Something flickered in Sergei’s eyes. Ralston was immediately taken aback. “She’s right,” he said incredulously. “Don’t bother lying about it now. Analise has sniffed you out, and you might as well come clean. Are you actually a fed? Or are you just passing information to them?”

  Sergei got to his feet. “I don’t have to put up with this.”

  “Perhaps not.” Analise got to her feet as well. “But if you want to leave this room alive, you’ll answer Ralston’s question.”

  Sergei headed for the door. To Ralston’s horror, Analise placed herself between Sergei and escape. He tried to move forward, and she shoved him back. He tried once more, and she neatly swept his feet out from underneath him.

  The man crashed to the floor and looked utterly stunned. He started to get up, but Analise put the heel of her shoe against his neck. “I don’t think so. Not until you answer my question. And please don’t make me ruin my shoes. I happen to like these.”

  Sergei started to grab hold of her foot, but she immediately reached down and grabbed his hand. She applied pressure to the skin between his thumb and index finger until he started cursing.

  “Dammit! Fuck!” Sergei was snarling like a dog. All pretense of calm was gone. “Fine! It’s not like it fucking matters anyway. The FBI organized crime division offered me a deal. I pass them info on you and they go easy on me for some of my—shall we say—illegal activities.”

  “Thank you.” Analise sounded almost sweet as she removed her foot from Sergei’s neck and stepped away from him. “You may leave now.”

  Ralston caught her eye and she winked. Only a few feet away, Ralston could see his father looking at Analise with a whole new appreciation. If she had been intending to make herself indispensable to Stedman Hyde-Pierson, she had certainly managed to do that and more. Damn, he loved this woman. She had a mind and an intellect that never failed to deliver.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “How did you know?” Stedman demanded.

  Analise struggled to keep her composure. The truth was that she hadn’t known. At least not for certain, which had left her feeling pretty damn sketchy about taking the chance that she had. But the gamble had paid off, and now she was coolly gazing Stedman Hyde-Pierson in the eye after saving his wretched and criminal ass from the fire.

  For the moment. She took one more swig of the champagne remaining in her glass. It was warm. Yuck. But at least it gave her something to do that allowed just one more second of thinking before she responded. “There’s a certain vibe that people have when they’re playing a role,” Analise drawled. “Our friend Sergei wasn’t acting in character.”

  Stedman sat back in his seat and gazed at her with unbridled curiosity. “Why the hell not? He was comfortable, cordial, and very involved in the business.”

  “He spent too much time trying to get everyone to like him,” Analise said flatly. “He wasn’t at all suspicious of me although he didn’t know me at all.” She waited for Stedman to make the connection. It was going to be a long wait if his expression was any indicator. How did such an oblivious man make it in a life of crime?

  Finally it was Ralston that started chuckling. His father gazed at him with barely disguised disgust. “What?” Stedman snarled. “This isn’t funny!”

  “Actually, it is.” Ralston gestured to Analise. “I trust her. But for someone like Sergei to say that a woman’s loyalty should be trusted—come on,” Ralston chided. “What man ever says that about a woman?”

  Anton started laughing. The man had been so silent that Analise had almost forgotten that he was sitting on the other side of the table. Now he had his head back and was laughing as though Ralston had just told the funniest joke ever. It was disconcerting at best. Analise couldn’t stop staring at him. What was his deal?

  “You.” Anton finally pointed at Stedman. “You think you are so smart.”

  Stedman looked affronted. “Excuse me?”

  “You think you run the Sokolov empire here in Boston, and yet the first thing you tried to do was invite a government informer into our ranks.” Anton stood up. “I have heard enough. No more.” Anton sliced his hand through the air in an ominous gesture. “You’re not wanted and not respected. The men do not follow you.” The smile on Anton’s face was chilling. “They work for me.”

  Beneath the table, Analise felt Ralst
on’s leg against hers. She could absolutely sense the pent-up excitement rolling off him in waves. This was their moment! This was what they had been waiting for. The goal had been to isolate the truth about Stedman’s criminal affiliations. Anton had just given them a rare bit of insight into something that Stedman probably would have preferred to remain private.

  “You little commie bastard!” Stedman hissed. “Don’t you mess with me! I’ll call…”

  Stedman abruptly stopped talking. His face paled a few shades beneath his fake tan. Anton chuckled and waved his hand at Ralston. “What? You don’t want to threaten me in front of your son? You think that boy doesn’t know who signed the death warrant for him and his family?” Anton indicated Ralston one more time. “He knows. He has known. You keep secrets like a spoiled child.”

  It was an odd comment to make, especially as a parting shot. Analise wondered at the significance of Anton’s words as the man turned on his heel and exited the Thayer Room. Silence reigned in the wake of his departure, and Analise barely dared to breathe for fear of rocking the proverbial boat.

  Ralston’s gaze flicked in her direction, and she wished that she could fully understand what it was he was saying. Telepathy would have been a pretty useful superpower at the moment. For now she could only sit back and let him lead. This was his show. She was just here to be support staff, and she had to remember that, no matter how crazy it made her.

  “So.” Ralston put his hands flat on the table and stood up. He leaned across the table toward his father. “It would appear that your claims earlier this month that you had nothing to do with the Sokolov operation were false.”

  “Actually,” Analise cut in. “I believe the claim was that he was approached by the Sokolovs to launder money and he refused. They were angry and retaliated.”