Page 29 of The Bratva’s Innocent Sold Bride (Fokin Bratva #9)
I swore bitterly, slamming my coffee cup down hard enough to crack the bottom. The dark liquid made a slow stain on the tablecloth, and I stood and hurled it into the sink. Then, I grabbed a towel to toss onto the small puddle on the table.
One second, CJ was on my lap, thrilled with her new office.
The next time, she was spitting mad, accusing me of not trusting her.
She didn’t understand that, as much as I wanted to give her everything, I couldn’t risk her life.
The office was already a risk, contained enough that I could allow it and not go crazy with worry every second she was out of my sight.
I’d recently purchased the building in the office park where her space was. The security staff were vetted by my own people, and the other occupants had passed through rigorous background checks to determine they were completely clean and free of any ties that might compromise my wife’s safety.
But Anatoli was out there, and he’d already fired the first shot by attacking the charity she was associated with. It wasn’t like I could say, ‘Hey, my love, there’s this madman who’s been warring with me and would kill you as easily as he drew a breath if he got the chance.’
I wouldn’t have her frightened when I could easily keep her safe—if she would stop blowing up about my security measures and thinking it had anything to do with not trusting her.
Soon enough, I’d wipe Anatoli off the map, and when I was undisputed king of this area, I could give her more of the freedom she craved.
A couple of minutes after I had a new cup of coffee, she texted me from wherever she was in the house.
I’ll go to the office with the guards.
Not exactly warm and cuddly or laden with heart emojis, but I still smiled.
Even though she didn’t understand and was simmering with anger, she was still going to help me.
She’d been given a responsibility and was determined to see it through.
A new reason to admire her, along with all the others I’d been collecting in the weeks since she became mine.
Masha came in, reminding me that I had responsibilities other than my wife. I was surprised to see her, thinking she was out on the stakeout rotation. Before I could ask her anything, even how she was, she cut right to the chase. That was Masha, all business when something was important.
“I think I’ve got a lead on Anatoli’s second in command. His name is Pavel, and he might be on his way to a place where we can pick him up without too much fuss.”
She explained her reasons for believing this man to be so high up in Anatoli’s chain of command.
Unbeknownst to me, she’d ditched the stakeout, believing it to be as futile as my tech guy, Delta, did.
Instead, she started following the people they’d seen coming and going from the fortified building I’d followed Anatoli to.
“He goes to too many places that don’t have anything to do with this startup of Terrance Hendricks, or whatever he’s calling himself.”
She showed me a picture, and a memory of a face from weeks before flashed through my mind. The robbery of the food delivery truck at my restaurant was a cover for a weapons delivery.
“Even if you’re mistaken about him being the second in command, he’s involved somehow. Give me the location, I’ll go pick him up.”
“I’ll tag along,” she said, giving me a defiant look. She really hated stakeout duty.
This was a good find, and if Pavel turned out to be important enough to Anatoli, he could be used as a bargaining chip even if he didn’t break under interrogation tactics. Masha deserved to see some action, and she could handle herself if things went bad.
“Call Garik and have him send backup to the location,” I said, placing my second cup of coffee into the sink in a more civilized manner than the first. If Masha noticed the broken pottery in there, she didn’t say a word about it.
With a smirk, she told me there’d be no need for backup. “You’ll see,” she said.
“Well then, call Lev and see if we can stow him somewhere up in San Francisco. I don’t want this one getting away, and we need to make him hard to find.”
By the time we were on the way to the address Masha gave me, it was all settled. We’d pick up the supposed second and lock him in one of Lev’s safe houses, where he conducted interrogations of his own when it wasn’t needed for one of our people to lie low for a while.
When we arrived at the place where Pavel would be, I could see why Masha was so unconcerned. “What the hell?” I asked as she giggled under her breath. “Is he really getting a manicure?”
“Every week, like clockwork,” she answered. “We just have to wait for him to come out and put him in the car.”
“He’s either cocky or stupid,” I said. Although Garik and I normally walked around freely without an extra guard in tow, if we were inclined to get manicures, we’d definitely make sure we were covered.
“Why not both?” Masha said, in a good mood now. Looking at her phone, she assured me that Pavel would be done in less than half an hour.
I turned to catch up on messages concerning my restaurant as well as the club I was in the process of acquiring. As I turned my attention to any updates on the project of salvaging Taurus Ingenuity, I sensed Masha looking at me instead of at the big plate-glass window of the nail salon.
“He’s still in there,” she said at my raised eyebrow. “Soooo,” she continued. “What’s going on with you and CJ?”
I sent the eyebrow higher. “Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”
Out of all our family, she was the only one I’d let in on the real reason I’d rushed to marry CJ.
Leaving out the fact I’d instantly become obsessed with my exquisite bride, I’d told her about Gordon’s swindle and subsequent debt.
It seemed impossible for her to believe we were as in love as we led everyone else to think, since she’d be living in the same house and CJ and I were often engaged in battle.
Until recently, when things had taken a turn and everything changed for the better. Now, CJ was back to thinking I didn’t trust her and keeping her under lock and key because she was still my prisoner.
“There,” Masha said triumphantly. “That face you just made. Like someone kicked your dog.”
“Artem could use a kick, the way he’s been chewing up my shoes.”
“You’d never,” she said. “But nice attempt to change the subject. Is there a reason you took me off surveillance last night to bring one of Artem’s beds and an armload of his toys to an office building?”
“CJ will be working there.”
“Okay, but why fix it up like the Taj Mahal?” When I didn’t respond, she accused me of wanting to make my wife happy.
“And?” I asked. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing if she was actually your wife,” she said.
I tensed. “She is my wife,” I said slowly, in the ice-cold tone that would alert most people to back off.
Not my intrepid cousin. “Until you decide her father’s debt has been paid,” she said with a shrug. “You’re not really going to spend the rest of your life with her, are you?”
I glared at her. “Perhaps I haven’t decided that the debt’s been paid yet.”
She tutted at me, like her grandmother, my great aunt, used to do when one of us was being supremely stupid.
“Gordon Taurus is decimated. You’re revitalizing his company, which will make you more money than he ever stole from you.
And instead of cutting her loose, you’re designing fancy, dog-friendly office spaces for her and making up jobs that Delta could take care of.
Look, I like her a lot, but you and CJ are nothing alike and—”
“Enough,” I bellowed, very close to taking her head off, family or not. “It’s not only none of your concern, you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
It was a surprise that my roar hadn’t alerted everyone in the salon twenty feet away that we were out there waiting to abduct one of their patrons.
All Masha did was smile as I kept lighting into her, as if she knew I’d react that way all along.
She looked far too pleased with herself, finally pointing to the salon door.
“You done defending your wife?” she asked. “Because Pavel’s about to leave.”
“Don’t bring her up again,” I rumbled as I got out of the car, hand on my gun.
She followed, still smiling as we easily nabbed one of Anatoli’s top men in the hopes of bringing the damn bastard to his knees.