Page 52 of Scarlet Promise

“What—” I giggle as I glance to the window.

I’m going to have to teach Mr. Guard there some body-guarding etiquette, like some tips on being subtle.

Of course, knowing Demyan, he probably ordered him to be anything but subtle.

“Oh, him? Don’t worry. He’s just my bodyguard.”

When Eva’s jaw drops, I roll my eyes.

“He’s here thanks to my over-protective brother.”

“Wait,” she whispers, looking even more shocked. “Why do you need a bodyguard?”

Panic flickers in me. Being bratva is something I’m so used to. Being protected, too. I just haven’t really had protection tothis degree since I was a kid and something went on between Dad and a rival bratva.

But just because I’ve been soaked in the blood of organized crime since birth, that doesn’t mean I need to involve anyone else. That can be dangerous, and the less Eva knows, the better.

I cross to Albert, where he’s sniffing at the cage of one of his doggy friends, and fuss with his collar, giving myself a few moments to collect myself.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just my rich, overbearing brother being my rich, overbearing brother.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll give yourself a headache trying to work him out.” I straighten up and march over to her. “What can I do to help save the shelter? My husband’s rich, as is my brother. They know people. So we could help out. Do something.”

Eva’s shoulders sag. “Even being rich won’t help. So many people don’t want to rent to a shelter. Those places don’t respond to rent hikes well, and landlords think of having to deal with the aftermath of ‘dog-soaked’ buildings, as one called it, even though that doesn’t happen. We’re not hoarders. We look after them. But some don’t care.”

“Money can talk,” I say.

“It’s not just money. And it’s not just finding someone to rent to us. It’s finding the right spot. Finding this one was hard. It’s the perfect mix of accessible and residential, as well as near other businesses that get us foot traffic. There’s the park nearby. And while we do have vets who come in, taking them to a good vet who helps that’s also close? We’re talking rare. Put it all together? We’re now venturing into next to impossible territory.”

“We’ll think of something.”

“I’ve tried,” she says, “but I have to face reality. This shelter in any future form is very likely done.”

Chapter Twelve

ILYA

I disconnectthe call from the PI, a thread of excitement in my blood. It’s not much, but it’s something.

It seems Melor was sighted an hour ago at a gas station in Morgan Park, near the Chicago city limits. He filled up and withdrew cash, both signs he’s on a road trip and going off grid from the electronic world.

It’s something to go on.

The fact he still has his car is a dubious plus. Dubious, because even filling the tank doesn’t mean he won’t ditch it soon, but he still has it.

Svetlana leads Isaak up to me right on time. Originally, I’d wanted his brilliant eye on the finances, but now… Maybe not.

“What is it?” he asks as he prepares a drink for himself and for me.

He then sits and loosens his tie.

I look up at him and frown. “Thanks for the drink. Something’s come up, and short of sending a team of men on what might be a goose chase, I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell Isaak. I hear he’s a genius.” He grins.

I shake my head and take a swallow of the bourbon. Then I tell him about the situation with Melor. How a contact of my PI saw him and reported in, and I show him the texts.