Page 11 of Forbidden Boss

I stare at him, the words sinking like stones. My stomach turns.

“I don’t know anything,” I blurt. “I’ve barely started. I don’t?—”

“That’s not exactly true, is it?” Cole interrupts, his tone sharper now. “You’ve already uncovered discrepancies, haven’t you? Money missing? Numbers that don’t add up?”

My blood goes cold. He knows. Somehow, he already knows.

I force my face blank. “No.I haven’t.”

His eyes narrow, studying me as if he could peel away the truth just by staring long enough. “Be very careful, Ms. Gonzales. Withholding information in an active investigation can land you in prison. You think Mr.Borikov will protect you if things go bad? He’ll let you take the fall and never look back.”

The words cut, because a part of me knows they might be true. Lev’s cold dismissal, his fury when I brought him the discrepancies, were all about self-preservation. He hadn’t cared how it looked for me. He hadn’t cared how small it made me feel.

But there is another part of me, the part that remembers the heat in his kiss, the steel of his presence. That part of me wants to protect him.

Agent Cole slips a card from his jacket pocket and places it on the table. “This is my direct number. Think carefully, Ms. Gonzales. You’re standing on a line that could ruin your life if you stay silent. We’re your only way out if things go south.”

I stare at the card like it might burn me. White stock, black letters, crisp and official. My lifeline or my noose.

“I told you,” I say, my voice low and shaking. “I don’t know anything.”

His mouth presses into a thin line, but he doesn’t argue. “Then think about what I’ve said. And when you’re ready to stop protecting a criminal, call me.”

He slides the chair back, stands, and crosses the room with the same calm he has maintained during his visit. At the door, he pauses, his eyes cutting back to me. “Prison wouldn’t be friendly to a nice girl like you. Choose wisely.”

Then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a moment, silence reigns. My breath comes fast, my chest tight. Susie slips out of her room as soon as she hears the front door close.

“Mari,” she whispers. “What the hell are you mixed up in?”

I sink into the nearest chair, the weight of the folder in my bag pressing against my side like a curse. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I really don’t know.”

6

LEV

Istudy the report for the twentieth time, knowing it will not reveal more than it already has. I knew something was wrong with the books. I’ve known for months. It’s why I hired a forensic accountant in the first place. I needed someone who knew exactly what to look for.

Still, anger pulses in my veins, demanding I find the person responsible immediately. I will be his judge, jury, and executioner. There is no corner of this earth he’ll be able to escape to, especially not with my money.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t make these numbers name the thief. I can spend my time fantasizing about how to make him pay, but there’s no way of knowing how deep this betrayal really goes. It could be more than one person. There could be a mole in my ranks. Whoever did this has to be made an example of. That much is clear.

I stare at the papers spread across my desk, fury coiling in my gut. I press my fingers into the wood until half-moons mark the varnish. I don’t move for a long time, just staring at the numbers until they start to swim in front of my eyes.

Suddenly, Mari storms in like a whirlwind, fire in her eyes, chest rising and falling fast as if she ran here. The sight of her ready to fight sends a jolt through me I can’t name. I’m angry at the intrusion, angry at her presumption, and yet part of me is impressed.

“Are you Bratva?” she demands, her voice sharp as she slams her hands down on my desk.

The words hang in the air between us, and I have to let my brain catch up. That’s not at all what I expected her to ask, and my heart slams in my chest with anger and confusion. She’s either brave or foolish for bursting in here, demanding to know something like that. Probably both.

I lean back slowly, deliberately. I shoot her a look that would make my men cower, but she doesn’t back down. She watches me with fury, her demeanor unwavering. It’s almost impressive how unafraid she is. Impressive and incredibly stupid.

For a moment, I debate lying to her. It’s a ludicrous enough accusation in any other setting. I could pretend I have no idea what she’s talking about, but something in her eyes tells me that won’t fly. She’s figured out this much somehow. She likes to dig, so lying will only push her to go behind my back and get answers on her own. That would be very bad for both of us.

I shrug.

“You’re here to do a job,” I say slowly. “A legitimate, legal job. That’s all that matters. Whatever I do outside of this company is not your business.”