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Chapter Nine

Finn

T he warehouse is huge. It’s also empty. Carys’s heels tap-dance on the concrete floor as she searches the few offices off to the right. Jay stands beside me, fiddling with his phone.

“I don’t understand what I’m looking at here.” I put my hands on my hips, and the coat Carys gave me in the car stretches across my shoulders. When she handed it to me, annoyance and gratitude fought for dominance. Just like every single thing she’s done for me since I woke.

“An empty warehouse.” Jay tucks his phone into his pocket.

“Gee, thanks. I got that part. But how full was it? Quarter? Half?”

“Try loaded to the gills.”

I rock on my heels. “Fuck off.”

“I’m not kidding, man. Eric wasn’t wrong to be raging over this loss. It’s huge. A smaller company would have folded for sure. I’m surprised Charles isn’t here reaming her out for incompetence.”

Of course her father could be the reason the warehouse is empty. Would he do that to his daughter? I can’t decide. Their relationship has always been tense. She and I were drawn together by our complicated family structures. She both loved and hated her father. At the time, I understood her conflicted feelings. For me, the hate won out.

“Jesus Christ.” I leave him standing near the main entrance, and I head toward the clicking of her shoes. In the last office, Carys is in the center of the room, her arms crossed, disbelief on her face.

“The robbery is worse than they told me. There’s nothing left. Not a single weapon. We were completely cleaned out.”

I run my hand through my hair and sigh. “Eric is a dick. But if this was my organization, heads would be literally rolling. This took serious resources and massive planning. It stinks of an inside job.”

“The theft happened at the same time you were in trouble.” She leans against the wide desk in the middle of the room. “I delegated. I would have normally handled this myself.” She squeezes the messy bun at the nape of her neck. “I should have done more. The inventory has been gone for weeks now. Tracing it will be tough. And Eric’s correct—our fingerprints are on everything. Depending on who has our products, it could appear we’re making deals we aren’t doing.” Her smile is fleeting. “We do questionable things for profit, and if I got caught on those—well, fair enough—I made my choice. But if we get prosecuted over this…”

“Valeriya. She’s in charge here?” I say.

“Yeah.” Carys pushes off the desk. “Next stop is to her. I just—I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t tell me no one’s ever stole from you before.”

“I mean, of course, but never like this. Never this big. And none of us have a clue who did it. Not my father, not Eric, and I sure as hell don’t have any ideas.”

“Valeriya’s fingers are in the pie.”

Carys laughs. “You haven’t even met her.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Well, unlike you, I’m reserving judgment until I speak to her. That’s what a good employer does.”

“My employees never complained.”

She leaves the office. “When the result of a complaint is a bullet between the eyes, not too many people want to stir the pot.”

“Exactly. Make ’em sorry they even thought about fucking you over,” I grumble.

“Right—again with the murdering.”

“Sounds as if that’s a problem for you, and I know it’s not.” Her heels clack on the floor ahead of me, but I’ve got my head down. “You understand better than most how I was raised.”

When she stops, I have to throw my weight in reverse to avoid ramming into her. When I glance up, her amber eyes are soft with understanding. Stupid. Why’d I bring up the past? We used to confess so many things to each other under the cover of darkness. I’ve worked hard to coat my underbelly with a steely resolve. Sometimes I think she might be the only person who ever realized it existed.

“What happened with Lorcan—it gives you a fresh start, Finn. You don’t have to be the man you were. Your father is dead. You can’t return to your organization.”

I keep my hands in the pockets of my jeans to prevent myself from reaching for her. So easy to loop my arm around her waist, tug her to me, lose myself. “People don’t change. We are who we are.”

She makes a frustrated noise and glares at the wall behind me. Her hand strays to her hair. She crosses her arms and then focuses on me, searching for something. “A long time ago, you told me—”

“Too many years ago.”

“But if people don’t change…”

“There was a moment, I’ll give you that. Two roads diverged in a wood.” I smirk. “I chose the bloodier one.”

“Don’t have to be flippant about this. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m a lost fucking cause. You can’t reform me, remake me, change me. There are two things I do really well. You’ve already experienced one of them.” I lean in so my lips are close to grazing her ear. “And the other one is killing.” Then I brush past her and make my way to Jay at the front of the building. After a minute, her heels sound behind me.

Valeriya is a skinny-ass blond Russian with eyes a similar shade of piercing blue to mine. She’s also a fucking liar.

“You’ve had three weeks.” Carys crosses her legs on the oversize recliner. “Three weeks and you’ve discovered nothing?”

We’re in Valeriya’s apartment in an upscale neighborhood, and the place is much nicer than it should be on her salary. Her necklace and earrings catch the light when she turns her head. They’re too real for her pay grade.

“No, I’m sorry. Nothing.” She shrugs as though Van de Berg Ammunitions didn’t lose a shit-ton of money.

I run a hand down my face and glare. One good threat and this woman would spread her knowledge like butter on bread. There’s not a doubt she knows something. Whoever took the weapons and ammo must have more clout than Carys and is therefore worth Valeriya’s loyalty. The realization pisses me off.

“Can I?” I growl.

“No,” she says, tight-lipped. “You may not.”

“Who is he? And what can he do?” Valeriya recrosses her long legs and examines her chipped nails.

“Kill you,” Carys deadpans.

Valeriya’s startled gaze flies to mine. A sly smile crosses her face. “You would not do that in this country. My father—”

“I don’t give a shit who your father is. Someone stole a warehouse full of material. You think I wouldn’t put a bullet in your head? I’ve killed for less. Google Finn Donaghey and thank your fucking stars she’s got me on a collar… and leash.”

Carys sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t google him.” On her feet, she stares at Valeriya. “I’m coming here tomorrow. You need to reconsider where your loyalty lies. I want something concrete—a direction—a name.”

Valeriya rises to her full height. Without her heels, Carys would be dwarfed by her. “I tell you. I know nothing. Tomorrow will not change that.”

“There are other ways to make someone’s life difficult other than murder.” Carys runs her hand along the back of the leather recliner she just vacated. “Money is a powerful motivator. If you want to keep your money, and I don’t just mean what I’ve paid you, reconsider your attitude.”

“You can’t touch my bank accounts.”

Carys narrows her eyes and opens the purse she has clutched in her hand. She removes a slip of paper and passes it to her. “Those account numbers? They’re yours, sweetie. I’ve got lots of friends in lots of places. You want to be broke? Fine by me.”

Valeriya stares at the page for a moment, her mouth a tight line. “I know nothing.”

“That necklace.” Carys points her index finger at Valeriya’s neck and then her earlobes. “And those earrings say otherwise. Maybe you don’t understand enough, but you do know something. Get me enough by tomorrow.”

“What time?” Her voice has lost the insolent confidence of earlier.

“First thing in the morning.” Carys walks to the front vestibule and opens the door to Jay, who has been standing watch. “I’m recovering weapons or I’m recovering cash. Your choice.”

Christ . She is so fucking hot right now I have to keep my hands deep in my pockets to stop myself from grabbing her around the waist as we exit the apartment. I’ve never seen her do business before. Her playful sense of humor, her softness, the way she sees me in ways no one else does, lure me in. But this—her cool control—almost puts me on my knees.

“How’d it go?” Jay asks as I close the door behind me.

“Snakes in the grass,” I mutter.

She laughs. “Valeriya will come around. No one wants to be poor in Russia.”

He leads us out of the building. She trails him, and I bring up the rear. When we get to the bank of elevators, she turns to me. “Still hungry?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?”

“That’s a yes, then.” The elevator pings. “I have a place,” she says.

“You want me along?” Jay asks as we step into the metal box.

“You’d better.” She’s focused on the closing doors. “If Valeriya calls her father to tell him I threatened her, there might be trouble.”

“Who is he?” I say.

Her eyes twinkle in amusement, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Russian mafia. Your favorite.”

“Think they could have taken your product?” I suggest.

“Doubtful. They use my business in Russia to clean their money. But it’s good to be sure.” As the elevator doors open, she exits.

“If Valeriya doesn’t tell Daddy you threatened her…” I slot the pieces together.

“Exactly.” Carys glances over her shoulder. “She doesn’t want him to realize what she’s been doing behind both our backs.”

“Impressive.”

She mocks a tiny curtsey. “Why thank you, kind sir.” Her Southern accent peeks out, reminding me of the other times she’s let me hear it. My chest aches at the memories.

Jay holds the door of the car as we both climb into the rear seats. With the middle space between us, we head to dinner. I stare at the scenery outside as we glide through the streets, determined to keep these old feelings for Carys from rising too far.