Page 54

“How is the building coming?” I ask him.
“We have made quite good progress in the past week,” he says. “The general’s men have helped a lot.”
“Good.” I nod and walk back to the car. Pavel pulls the back door open.
“Are you not going to brief the council?” Agafan watches me move to slide into the back seat of the SUV.
“I have business to attend to,” I tell him. “I will be back in ten days or so. I will brief them then.”
“We were hoping you’d at least stay one night,” Agafan presses.
“When I return, I will be staying for a few weeks,” I tell him. “We will have plenty of time to talk then.”
“Of course, Ruslan.” Agafan gives a slight bow and relents.
I pause. “In the meantime, start preparations for a Dragunov wedding ceremony.”
Agafan blinks. “You already have someone for Nadia?”
“No,” I say. “It’s for me.”
His brows rise. “May I ask who?”
“You’ll know when it’s time.” I clap his shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve chosen well.”
“No doubt,” he says. Then, after a beat and glancing into the SUV: “Where’s Konstantin?”
My jaw tightens. “On assignment.”
Something flashes behind his eyes—nothing but ice between them. But I don’t give a fuck. Konstantin serves me. Not the other way around.
Pavel closes the door and climbs behind the wheel.
I turn to Pavel. “Let’s go.”
“Back to the airport, boss?” Pavel asks once we’re inside.
“Yes.”
“Turn off your phone this time,” he mutters. “Or we’ll never leave Russia.”
I ignore that and check it anyway. Still no message. No update. No call. My pulse tightens. I dial a secure number.
It picks up on the third ring. “Boss.”
“Alexi,” I say. “Where’s Konstantin?”
“In Los Angeles.”
The answer hits harder than it should. What the fuck is he doing in Los Angeles. He’s supposed to be in Vegas.
“Is he alone?”
“No. He’s with Tara Craft.”
Fucking hell.
I inhale sharply. “In his penthouse?”