Page 57 of Forbidden Boss

I’m seething when I hear the click of a gun behind me. I’m a second too slow, and a bullet punches into my arm, sharp and hot. I stagger back, but before I can react, Yuri shoots the man in the head. Thom pulls me out of the office and forces me down, out of range of any other unseen assailants.

“We need to get you out of here,” Yuri says as he wraps a strip of fabric around my upper arm for a makeshift tourniquet. “You’ll need stitches.”

“Later,” I grumble, ignoring the pain. “I’m not stopping until I find her.”

I hold the note between two fingers and hand it to him. He crumples it up and throws it somewhere behind him.

“He’s baiting you,” Yuri says forcefully, trying to make me see reason. “He’s setting up traps for you all over the city. We got lucky here, but we may not be so lucky in the next place. We need to take a step back and work on a better plan.”

“All clear,” Pavel shouts to us from somewhere below. “We’ve secured the perimeter. There’s no one else here. But you should know, these are Kozlov men.”

“What the hell is all this about?”

“I don’t know, boss, but we can’t stay here,” Yuri says darkly. “If this is Kozlov property, they’ll send in more men. We don’t have the numbers for an all-out war.”

“That’s what he wants,” I say, realization dawning on me. “He wants me dead, and he wants to pin it on my enemies. Then he gets to keep his hands clean while the city devolves into chaos.”

“You really think Marcus is that smart?” he scoffs. “He’s good with numbers, sure, but he’s not a warlord. That kind of planning would take months. Years, even.”

“He’s been planning this for years,” I tell him. “That’s what Mari found. He started embezzling over three years ago. He’s had time to plan this.”

Yuri nods, looking out over the now-empty warehouse. He’d kill for me. I know that much. He can’t comprehend this level of disloyalty. At the end of the day, he’s just as affected by Marcus’s betrayal as I am.

“Then let’s go kill the son of a bitch,” he says darkly, helping me up. “But after you have that wound looked at.”

25

MARI

When I come to again, I realize I’m moving. Warm leather presses under my cheek, and my hands are zip-tied behind me. My head throbs. My mouth is dry. My throat screams when I try to swallow. I crack my eyes for a second and catch a dark landscape rushing past the window.

We’re in a car, obviously, but there’s no way to tell where we are or how far we are from the city. I don’t know how long I’ve been out. We could be in another state for all I know. My stomach fills with dread and nausea, and I force myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, even though it hurts.

Marcus is talking to someone in a low voice, and in the window’s reflection I see he’s on the phone. He’s not paying any attention to me, which is good. The longer I pretend to be out, the more information I can gather.

“We’re changing the route,” he says. “North, off the Thruway. Cross at Hastings, then county roads. We should be there in about two hours. Have it ready.”

We’re upstate somewhere, about two hours from our destination. I don’t move. I breathe slowly and let my head tip like I’m still out. He’ll slip up. He’ll give something away he shouldn’t. He’s too egotistical not to.

“We’ll do the handoff by the river,” he says. “No cameras. You bring papers and keys. I’ll bring what you want.” He pauses. “Yes. His float. His vendor shells. The off-book gaps. Enough to bring down the business.”

He ends the call. The heater is too high, the air is stale, and my stomach flips. I breathe through my nose and stay still.

“Take the right fork after the bridge,” he tells the driver. “Stay off main roads. I don’t want any surprises.”

“Got it,” the driver says. The voice is familiar.

I rack my brain, trying to place it. Maybe it’s one of the other Levcon employees who’s jumped ship and is pledging their allegiance to Marcus. But that doesn’t sit right with me.

I focus, trying to remember where I’ve heard the voice before. I get an image of a man sitting at my kitchen table. Agent Cole. I wonder where Marcus got the fake business cards. I have so many questions that will likely never be answered. For now, I just wait for any information I can use to my advantage.

Marcus has his phone back out, and he’s dialing another number. His tone shifts, becoming less polite and more clipped. It’s hard to tell if he’s in charge of whoever he’s talking to or if he’s afraid of them. I hope for the latter. It would be nice to see him afraid, to see him squirm.

“Put me through to Oleg,” he says.

I run through all the Olegs I’ve heard of. It’s not a name that’s familiar to me, but I do remember Lev telling me about someone named Oleg. Apakhanof another Bratva.

“Tell him we’re in motion,” Marcus says. “The deal stands. I’ve delivered Lev right to his people and I expect protection in return.”