Page 23 of The Bratva’s Innocent Sold Bride (Fokin Bratva #9)
I returned to the gala venue, sneaking back in the way I returned.
No one gave me a second glance since I had already made my grand entrance with CJ on my arm.
When one of Lev’s people tipped me off that Anatoli might make an appearance at the Exavier Foundation ball, I wasn’t hopeful.
Half the evening went by without a trace of him, but I was enjoying myself with CJ.
She not only looked beautiful beyond words, but she was a natural at making the most inane small talk sound sparkling and witty.
No matter what she said, people were drawn to her, and not just because of her status in the world.
We were getting frisky on the dance floor, and I was beginning to stop thinking about anything other than getting her home and out of that dress.
Then Terrance Hendricks arrived alone, but he didn’t stay that way for long.
Everyone wanted to greet him. I had heard about the tech genius, but he kept to himself, content to invent or code or whatever it was that tech geniuses did.
He was no one I was interested in, just one of many rising stars in this competitive town, and for the moment, he didn’t have anything I wanted.
Until I actually saw the man. He was such a recluse, he didn’t even have his picture on his own company’s website. He rarely went to events like this, seemingly unconcerned with the importance of networking.
If I hadn’t burned the picture of his brother into my mind, I might have gone on believing he was no one to me. But the resemblance was too great. His hair was a bit lighter; perhaps he had a stronger jaw. But there was no way Terrance Hendricks was anyone other than Anatoli Ovinko.
It was madness to use an assumed name unless he meant to put his Bratva past behind him.
I might have believed that if his group hadn’t been tormenting me since I arrived.
There was no way he was taking the straight and narrow path.
There was money in technology, lots of it.
But nothing paid like crime, despite what the old saying led youngsters to believe.
He would be found out eventually, so why the ruse?
Was he just toying with everyone, including me?
Sitting on the complete opposite side of the lavishly decorated ballroom, I kept him in my sights.
The urge to drag him out of there and beat the living hell out of him on that stupid white carpet leading up to the front door was almost overwhelming.
I didn’t like games, much preferred just getting a job done with minimal fuss.
If someone got in my way, I removed them and kept going.
All this subterfuge just pissed me off more.
Perhaps it was self-protection. If I so much as raised a hand to him here, I’d be the villain.
It was an open secret how I made my money, and I accepted because of the Fokin name.
My cousins owned half of California, and I was making a mark of my own up here.
But the reason I was accepted at places like this wasn’t just because of my wife, but because I could control myself and be subtle.
Barely. Just barely.
As I made to leave, I gave Anatoli one last glance.
He was deep in conversation with an old man who was a judge, a corrupt one if he was anyone near Anatoli.
Before I turned away, he looked up, as if he knew I’d been watching him all along and sensed I was about to leave.
Our eyes met, and he gave me the barest flicker of a smile.
The asshole was toying with me. He probably came because he suspected I’d be there, since CJ had always gone to most of the Exavier balls. His own people probably leaked the information to Lev.
Sitting in my car, I methodically plotted his demise, waiting, trying not to get angrier when I thought about what I was missing out on at home.
CJ had made me promise more of what we started on the dance floor, and I’d be damned if I broke that promise.
Especially when things were changing between us.
Slowly, and very little, but we could go a half an hour or so without butting heads, and when we were wrapped in each other’s arms, much, much longer.
An hour went by, and loud rock music started.
Many of the older crowd drifted out, waiting for their cars, but the young people were just getting started.
If Anatoli had come for the party, I could have been staking out the venue for hours to come.
I couldn’t lose him now. CJ would just have to wait, though by now she was probably seething that I’d unceremoniously dumped her at the front door without a word.
Shortly after the new band started playing, Anatoli came out, waiting patiently for his car.
As soon as he pulled out of the drive, I followed him.
Now that I knew he was hiding under a false persona, I might have been able to find out where Terrance Hendricks lived, but he was such a recluse, I didn’t want to risk it.
He didn’t pull up at a house, but a nondescript, three-story office building at the end of a nearly uninhabited road in San Jose.
There was nowhere for me to hide if I wanted to keep following him, but I wasn’t about to start hiding now, or let him slip into that building without having a word with him.
I pulled up behind him, blocking him in unless he wanted to blow through the gates leading to his building. I had to assume it was his, because he waved away the armed guard who came up to let him through, and leaned against his car as if he were waiting.
“Anatoli,” I said, getting out and stalking over to him.
“I don’t know that person,” he said, calmly holding out his hand for me to shake. I declined, glaring at him. “I’m Terrance—”
“I know who you say you are,” I spat. “And I also know what you’ve been doing.”
He shook his head, feigning confusion. “In my research lab here? I doubt that unless you’ve got some very good industrial spies.”
“Cut the shit, Ovinko. I know who you are. I know your people have some things that belong to me, and that you’ve tried to destroy at least one of my properties.
” I decided to show my hand. “And your brother has been causing trouble for me in Moscow recently, too. Do you think you’re going to win if your people start a war with mine? ”
His gray eyes darkened, and he snapped his fingers, just as CJ snapped for her dog. As obedient as Artem, three men poured from the gatehouse, guns drawn. He glanced up, and I followed his gaze to see two snipers on the roof of his building, aiming their rifles at me.
Anatoli took a smooth step forward. “I was here first. Nothing here is yours, or will ever be yours. I suggest you go back to Moscow, and maybe things will settle down for you there.”
My fist clenched, my arm reared back. His three guards rushed forward, throwing open the gate as if to surround me, or shoot me through the head and end it, but Anatoli held up his hand. The men fell back a step, but their guns remained trained on me.
“Tell your wife I hope she takes to the long winters in Russia. She may think it gets cold up here, but a California girl like that has no idea what she's talking about. I myself greatly prefer it here.”
“Don’t ever speak about my wife again,” I growled, glaring past him at the armed men. I had my gun under my evening jacket, and I was fast, but not that fast. The snipers would put me down before I had the first guard laid flat.
“Goodbye, Matvey,” he said, then spoke in Russian. “Take my advice before it becomes an order.”
Boiling with fury, I watched him walk through the gates and into his building, which took him about a solid minute to enter all his codes. It had so much high-tech security, even with the massive overload of guards. What was he doing there?
I continued to glare at the guards, who closed the gate and calmly went back to their posts, unseen. But the snipers were still very much in view, so I backed away until I reached my car. I had a location and a face, but I was still at square one, and I didn’t like it.
The man was giving me orders to return to Moscow? Telling me he got here first like a child guarding his favorite chair in the lunchroom. Perhaps I acted in haste by confronting him so soon, but I was inordinately patient. I wouldn’t rush in again.
I started the car and turned on loud music to match my raging mood, but once I was getting closer to home, my rage began to dissipate, and I switched it off. The one thing Anatoli had going in his favor was his anonymity, and that was gone. Now that I could find him, I could take him out.
He would be the one on his way home to Moscow if I didn’t send him to the middle of the Pacific Ocean in a body bag first. No one who ever messed with a Fokin came out the victor, and Anatoli Ovinko wouldn’t be the first one.
Putting him out of my mind, I headed home, eager to see CJ and assure myself that she was safe. It sickened me that my enemy had spoken of her at all, but he’d never get close enough to touch her. He wouldn’t be anyone’s problem soon enough, and right now I had a promise to keep.