Page 31

Dimitry

London, England

Present Day

I say goodbye to Leon in the drop-off lane of Heathrow airport.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he says. “You’ve got my number. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” He gives me the ghost of a wink. “You’d be amazed how resourceful art dealers can be in cutting through red tape when it’s required.”

“I appreciate that.” I shake his hand, meaning it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Good luck, Dimitry.” His smile is genuine. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says again as he pulls his silver convertible out into traffic, raising a hand in farewell.

My phone rings just as I turn toward the terminal. “Mak,” I say when I answer. “Thanks for getting back to me so fast.”

“Dimitry.” Makari Tereschenko’s dry, sardonic drawl comes down the line, sounding as relaxed as if he were eating strawberries and cream at Wimbledon, though I happen to know for a fact that he’s currently somewhere in northern Africa.

Doing what, and for whom, I wouldn’t have a clue.

Mak runs the biggest private security force in the world and has tentacles in intelligence agencies worldwide, from Mossad to MI6.

“Luke Macarthur rang earlier. He mentioned you might be taking a short vacation in Australia.” He makes it sound like I’m heading out for sun and surf.

I snort. “Not sure how short it will be.”

“Yes, Luke sent me the article.” Mak pauses. “Far be it from me to give unwanted advice,” he says delicately.

I cast my eyes skyward. “You’re going to give it anyway, you smooth prick. Might as well spit it out.”

“Consider it more of a news brief, then.”

Mak would sound like he’s trying not to laugh even if he was standing on the gallows. There’s not a conflict anywhere on the globe that he doesn’t have his fingers in, and yet I’ve never met someone more seemingly amused by life than he is.

He is also perpetually ten steps in front of anyone else in the game, which is why I’m still on the phone.

“Has Roman mentioned our little... security issue to you?” he says now.

“Nope.” I frown. Security issue? This is news to me.

“I thought not. Let’s just say that our joint venture appears to be coming in for some scrutiny, by people we might not want attention from.”

Fuck.

Mak is one of the twelve original investors in Mercura, Roman’s digital money laundering platform.

I’ve been involved in Mercura since Roman first had the idea more than a decade ago, through every stage of its development.

The fact that it’s now facing security issues explains exactly why Roman has started to sound so twitchy on the phone.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Actually, I don’t give a fuck.

I stare up at the departure board. My plane is due to board in less than an hour, and I still have to get through security. I start walking toward the line.

“Well, then.” Mak’s amusement ratchets up a level. “You’re clearly serious about the Australia thing.”

“I am.”

“Am I to assume you haven’t mentioned this little side trip to Roman?”

“You are to assume exactly that.”

“I see.” He pauses again. “I would like to help you, Dimitry. But my allegiances are rather... tricky in this situation.”

Which means that Mak’s allegiance is to Mercura, and therefore to Roman.

Until today, I would never have imagined my own allegiance being any different. But walking onto the flight to Australia means that I’m walking away from that allegiance.

I will be outside the bratva for the first time in my adult life.

Outside the Stevanovsky clan.

Outside Mercura.

It means I’m on my own.

It’s oddly liberating, like the slow loosening of knots I didn’t realize were starting to strangle me.

“Do what you have to, Mak.” I take a deep breath, feeling almost lightheaded. “I’m sure that between you and Roman, you’ll find a solution to your security issue.”

“Ha!” He sounds positively delighted, the prick, almost as if my walking away is part of some greater plan, one he somehow orchestrated himself.

“Well, while I can’t offer to help personally, Luke Macarthur is an independent operator and is perfectly free to commit himself where he likes.

I think you will find him very... resourceful. ”

No shit. Luke Macarthur is one of the most lethal motherfuckers I’ve ever seen in action.

I grin. “I seem to recall him being pretty fucking resourceful the last time we met.”

“Quite!” I’d swear Mak is actually rubbing his hands with glee on the other end of the line. “I hope the antipodean climate agrees with you, my friend.”

He hangs up before I can ask what the fuck antipodean is.

I make it through security with enough time to buy a change of clothes, toiletries, and a bag to put them in. Thank Christ I had my laptop with me when I went to Leon’s yesterday. I call the London hotel I never returned to and ask them to store the bag I left there.

By then, it’s time to board. I glance at my phone, see three missed calls from Roman, and decide he can damned well wait until I land.

Perth, Western Australia

Present Day

“You’re fucking where ?” Roman’s barely restrained fury is almost as savage as the Australian sun shimmering off the tarmac outside Perth Airport.

“Abby’s missing, Roman. I have to find her.” I peel off my jacket.

And I thought Miami was warm.

In early February, the Perth sun feels like it’s about to peel the skin off my face .

Roman is still raging down the phone line.

“For three months before she went missing, Abby didn’t send you so much as a goddamn text message.

Why are you so sure the girl wants to be found?

” His impatience is close to outright fury.

“For that matter, how do you know she didn’t stage her own disappearance?

It wouldn’t be the first time she’s pulled something like that, from what Darya’s told me. ”

Anger surges through me, raw and sudden. “Darya doesn’t know the full story. Neither of you fucking do.”

His response comes hard and fast. “Oh, and you do, huh?”

I come back just as hard. “I know a lot more than either of you.”

Way to sound like a five-year-old, Dimitry.

I clench my fist, longing to put it right into Roman’s face.

Not least because he’s right. The annoying thing is that Roman fucking knows he’s right, since one night recently, when the vodka got the better of me, I was dumb enough to actually admit to him that I don’t know Abby’s full story.

I take a deep breath and force myself to remain calm, though I can’t hide my bitterness.

“Darya should have more faith. Abby might have run out on me, but Darya’s like a sister to her. She would never have cut off contact with her, no matter what is going on between us, and you know it.”

Suddenly, I know I’m right. I’ve been so lost in misery over the past months that I’ve started doubting everything I was certain of.

But twenty-four hours on a plane staring at the newspaper photograph of the twisted, blackened remnants of that car wreck has given me time to think.

And the truth is that while Abby might have left me with no more than a note on the bedside table, she could no sooner leave Darya behind than she could her own heart.

“More faith, huh?” I can hear the ferocity behind Roman’s surface calm .

And I don’t give a fuck.

“I know how much you love that—Abby.” Roman barely manages to correct himself in time.

“So I’m going to let your comment about Darya slide.

But now is the wrong time for a side mission, Dimitry.

Look.” I can almost picture him glaring out the window of the Hale offices.

“I can send a team to look into Abby’s disappearance.

Get one of Mak’s crew onto it and order them to track everything they can find.

But I need you back here. I’ve held off from saying it because I know you’ve been having a tough time, but the reality is that we’ve got a security breach, and that means I need you on deck, brother. ”

I grip the phone and stare at the line of cars snaking around the pickup lane. “If it was Darya who was missing, would you leave the search for her in someone else’s hands?”

In the brief pause that follows, I know I’ve just crossed a line.

“Don’t make this about Darya.” His voice is dangerously quiet.

But the damage is done. The line is crossed, and even if I wanted to go back, I know I can’t.

“You wouldn’t trust anyone but yourself to go after her, and you fucking know it, Roman.

” When he doesn’t answer immediately, I keep going.

“I have to find Abby. It’s the only thing that matters to me.

I’m sorry you’ve got trouble over there, but Mak made it pretty clear that he’s got your back, and I’m sure he’s going to be more help than I could be. ”

“Wait.” Roman’s tone is incredulous. “You’ve spoken to Mak? So you knew there was a security breach before you got on that plane?”

I feel the same sensation I did when I spoke to Mak, of old knots loosening. Suddenly, all I want is to be free of the ties.

“Yes, Roman.” My voice is clear and certain, and I feel better with every word. “I knew there was a security breach. And yes, I got on the plane anyway. ”

His silence is deafening.

A horn blasts from the pickup lane, and Luke’s grinning face hangs out of the window of a large white SUV. “Oi,” he shouts across the traffic.

I wave at him.

“My ride is here.” I start walking toward the car, still speaking into the phone. “Tell Darya I’ll call with any updates.”

“Don’t do this, Dimitry.” I’ve known Roman long enough to recognize the warning in his voice. “And don’t make me say it.”

“What?” I stop, holding a hand up to Luke to indicate that I’m coming. “That you’re pakhan ? That you give an order, and I jump to it?”

“I’ve never treated you like that—”

“You just fucking did, Roman.” I cut him off calmly.

I’m not angry. I’m not even frustrated.

What I am is done .