Page 27 of Prince of Control (Bratva Heirs #1)

“So now the attention of the entire country will be on this case. Even if they can’t bring charges, the Chancellor would probably do anything to make it go away, including expel me and shut down our house,” I groan.

“Or me,” Anders says miserably. “If that dude who works for her dad doesn’t kill me first.”

“Did you tell him the truth?” I ask. “About what you and Melinda did?”

Leo pulls up in front of the hospital, but none of us get out. This conversation needs to be finished in the privacy of our vehicle.

“I… said we had sex,” Anders says. “But I didn’t want to out her about the pain-play. I mean, the whole world could find out. Her dad could find out. He’s probably going to have me killed.”

“No one’s getting killed on my watch,” I growl. I can probably take that Black Shirt guy. He looks well trained, but so am I.

“What if Melinda doesn’t remember that we had sex? Does the memory loss and confusion go back farther than when she took the drug?”

A chill fills the vehicle as we all consider that question.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “But I think Melinda is smart enough to put together the truth if we present the facts to her.”

I hope. But Anders was probably right not to “out” her, and depending on how important it is to her to keep that part of her life a secret, there is a possibility she throws Anders under a bus to do it.

But I won’t let that happen.

“Best-case scenario, we find the fuckers who did this and make them pay.”

“Bring them to justice,” Lara corrects. “Otherwise, you won’t clear your name.”

The hospital is swarming with press, and when I ask at the front desk for Melinda’s room, the receptionist tells us they aren’t releasing information about Ms. Tracy to anyone.

“Fuck. I’m going to send her a text. Christ, what do I even say?” Anders asks.

“Tell her you heard what happened and ask if you can see her,” I advise.

A familiar figure in a tight black t-shirt cuts through the crowd and heads down the hall.

“Look.” I lift my chin. “I’ll bet he knows where Melinda’s room is.”

The four of us take off down the hall, following the government agent. He takes the stairwell, and I follow, hanging back in the doorway of the first floor and listen to how many flights he goes up. When the door on the third floor closes, I motion to my friends to follow.

On the third floor, I crack the door and peer out.

Gabe Tracy stands in the open doorway to a hospital room, flanked by two secret service members. He’s listening to Black Shirt. His henchman spots me, and they both look our way.

Fuck it. I push the door from the stairwell open and stride out holding Lara’s hand. Anders and Leo flank us.

“Benjamin Baranov and Anders Hansen,” Melinda’s dad says. His expression is a dark glower. Who could blame him when his only daughter was attacked?

I’m guessing he knows our names from Black Shirt. I can only hope he already filled him in on our presumed innocence.

My mom worked to get him elected, but now is probably not the time to mention that. He probably knows.

“Senator Tracy.” I can’t decide whether I should stick out my hand to shake or not. I decide not to because he doesn’t look like he’s in the hand-shaking mood. “This is my wife, Lara Baranov, and my housemate, Leo Popov.”

Black Shirt watches me with an assessing look. I don’t imagine he misses much.

“Why are you here?” Senator Tracy looks as tired as I feel. No one slept last night.

“To support Melinda.” I peer past him into the room, but the bed is empty.

“She’s resting.” The senator gives us all a hard look. I realize the secret service members flank the door next to this one. That must be the one she’s in.

I gaze back without flinching. I need him to know I’m not guilty, and I have nothing to hide. At least not about this case. I have a lot to hide in other areas.

“Step inside this room.” Senator Tracy tips his head toward the empty room beyond him, and we file in. Black Shirt follows and shuts the door behind us.

The senator shifts his glower to Anders. “Am I to understand you’re… dating my daughter?”

Anders shifts on his feet. “I’m not sure she would define it that way, but honestly, Senator, I’d give my left nut to have that be true.”

Gabe Tracy’s eyebrows pop.

Anders has a way of disarming people, and it seems his graphic confession worked because Melinda’s dad’s shoulders sag, and he scrubs a hand across his face.

“I just want you to know, Senator, that we’re going to find whoever did this to Melinda and make them pay,” I offer.

“He means bring them to justice ,” Lara corrects me again, squeezing my hand.

I crack my neck. The perpetrator will experience my violence. Then I will bring them to justice.

“Do you know who did this?” Senator Tracy asks.

“I have ideas. And I have resources. We’ll find them.”

Black Shirt watches me steadily. I expect him to say something like, “Leave the detective work to me,” but he says nothing, so I plow forward.

“Who brought her to the hospital? Her roommate?”

“Campus security.” Black Shirt throws us an unexpected bone.

Leo and I exchange a glance. The security guard. It had to be him.

“The same guy who picked her up intact from Baranov House?” Leo asks.

Neither man answers.

“We’ll start there,” I say.

“You want to tell me your ideas?” the senator asks.

I hesitate. I don’t want to make accusations without proof, but guilt over what happened to Melinda eats at me. It happened because of me. Like Valentina, Melinda was an innocent caught in bratva crossfire. I scrub a hand across my face.

“Senator…it’s possible this was an elaborate set-up to get our house shut down.

Choosing a high-profile target like your daughter ensured heads would roll.

Not to mention, it brought an avalanche of pressure and negative press to the University.

Do you happen to know who called the New York Times ? ”

“We’re looking into it,” Senator Tracy says. He frowns at me. “So your theory is this was all about you and your house?” Derision laces his voice. Like I’m some narcissist making his daughter’s tragedy about me.

I abandon sharing my thoughts and shake my head. “You’re right. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

“No, talk me through your theory,” Black Shirt demands. His back is against the wall, hands caged loosely at his lap. Whoever he is, it’s not some ordinary secret service. He’s definitely some kind of special ops guy who has the complete trust of the senator.

I draw in a breath. “My hope is that no one assaulted Melinda–just drugged her. People knew she frequented our house, and it may have been rumored that she and I had a physical relationship in the past. Drugging her during or just after our party would guarantee a shitstorm for me. The fact that it was Anders she hooked up with isn’t any better.

If Melinda doesn’t remember what they did together at the party before she was drugged, Anders is in a world of trouble, and our house will probably be shut down–at least from having parties if not closed altogether. ”

Gabe Tracy looks angry. “You’re telling me this might be some kind of house hazing situation?”

I look straight back at him. “I’m telling you I will destroy whoever was behind this. No one hurts my friends.”

The corners of Black Shirt’s lips turn up for a moment, and then his face goes blank again.

“And Melinda is your friend.” It’s a question, but his voice doesn’t rise at the end.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. You find who did this to my daughter and bring them to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’d better pray your stories match Melinda’s when she wakes up, or you’re right–I will annihilate all of you.” He gives all four of us the stink eye before waving his hand toward the door. “Now get out.”