Maykl
Kira’s groggy in the morningno doubt because her sleep schedule is offbut she rolls out of bed when I do.
After her surrender to me last nightthe emotional one, not the sexualI want to help her. I understand exactly the kind of life she’s probably led. I grew up in the bratva, too. Lured from unsavory home conditions into a life of violence and crime. I remember girls like Kira’s sister. Brought in to work off debts. Or passed around and given a wad of rubles before being sent home with a slap on her ass.
I understand perfectly why she might show up here thinking she’d find her nephew. Boys like him were often scooped up and incorporated into the brotherhood, just as I was.
All they had to do was rip their very soul from their bodies and pledge the rest of their lives to serve their leader.
I am thankful every day that I don’t live in that level of barbarity anymore. That Ravil is a different sort of leader. Here in the Kremlin, I feel like a human being.
Yes, I still use my fists. I still carry a gun. I still see death on occasion. But it all has a reason.
I don’t see random cruelty. I don’t see sexual slavery or rape, except those women my cell has rescued. Like Nadia, my friend Adrian’s sister.
I take a quick shower, and when I emerge, Kira’s dressed and sitting on the bed.
She’s more subdued today. Less of a Valkyrie. More of a grieving sister. I suppose now that she knows her nephew isn’t here, she doesn’t have to be prepared for battle.
Seeing her this way makes me want to be the one who goes to battle for her. I pull on my clothes. I need to go and open the building up for business in twenty minutes.
“I ordered us in some breakfast.” She holds up her phone. “Uber Eats.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “I have food. But thank you.”
She seems surprised by my thanks.
“Where is your sister’s body?” I ask. We might as well start with the difficult things. Knock them off her list.
More surprise. Those startled ice-blue eyes find mine. “At the morgue.” She swallows. “I was too focused on finding Mika yesterday to make any arrangements.”
I nod. “We’ll take care of it today.”
“We?”
I nod. “Wasn’t that why you were intent on winning my…friendship last night?” I flick my brows, reminding her of her bold act, and she blushes, confirming my suspicion that her clumsy seduction of me was far from her normal behavior.
Now that I understand her background, I can see why she thought it would work. If her sister served as a bratva whore, she probably thought it was the only currency that works here.
I spread my hands. “You have me now. I want to help.”
Her lips part, and she draws in a staggered breath. “Thank you.”
“I have to go and open the building for your Uber Eats guy. Do you want to come down with me and wait?”
She stands from the bed. “Yes.” She pulls on her boots, and I take her hand to walk her to the elevator.
It’s a strange sensation to hold her hand. It feels both familiar and foreign at the same time. Like her hand belongs in mine even though I’ve never held a woman’s hand before in my life.
We ride down in the elevator in comfortable silence. When we get to the door, I see the delivery guy standing there waiting.
I enter the code to disable the alarm then swipe my keycard to open the lock.
I don’t like the looks of the delivery guy. He feels wrong. Most delivery guys are slouchy young men, in a hurry to make their drop-off and get to the next one. This guy seems too old. Too solid.
I give him a dark look that doesn’t induce him to shrink.
“Uber Eats for Kira?” he grunts, glancing at the receipt. “It didn’t have a room number.”
“I’m Kira.” She reaches for the bag from the nearby bagel shop and flashes him a smile that makes me want to punch the guy’s teeth out.
I glower until he leaves, watching until he’s completely out of sight.
Kira’s already digging through the bag. “If you give me your keycard, I can go and get a couple of plates.”
I reach in and take a bagel. “No need. You go up and enjoy. I need to stay at my station for a few hours.”
“Okay.” She looks so lovely in the morning sunlight, her pale skin set off by those coral lips. Her cornsilk hair swept across her shoulders. I put a knuckle under her chin to nudge it higher and brush my lips across hers.
I suppose I’ve kissed women before. But the majority of my experience came from the whores back at my cell in Moscow. Never someone I wanted to impress. Or cared about.
So this feels like a first kiss to me.
It’s the first time I’ve had a beautiful woman looking up at me with gratitude. The first time I’ve expressed my attachment through the bond of our lips. She stills for it. Moves hers softly against mine.
I don’t ask for more. It’s not the time. We have funeral arrangements to make. She needs to eat. I have to work.
Still, I want another taste. I steal another kiss. A deeper one. No tongue, but my lips slant over hers, sealing my promise to help her.
When I break it, she’s leaning into me, her skin flushed with color, eyes brightened in contrast.
“Um. Okay.” She gives a breathy laugh. “I’ll be in your apartment.”
I hand her my keycard. “It’s 303,” I tell her, in case she didn’t take note of the apartment number.
“Yep. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I ignore the stirrings produced by the thought of having her up in my apartment. The sense of pride it produces. Of possessiveness. Like she belongs to me now.
Which, obviously, isn’t even remotely the case.
Besides, I already know what happens when you get attached to a woman, and then she leaves. I’d be a fool to allow myself any feelings when it comes to my lovely warrior.
She’s not mine, and she’s not staying.
But if I did pick a woman to be mine, it would be one just like her…
Kira
I dump the bagel bag out on Maykl’s kitchen counter. I find a small plastic envelope bundled inside the napkins that contains a dozen tiny listening devices. They each have an adhesive backing, making them easy to stick in the locations I choose.
Things could not go more perfectly.
Opening up to Maykl last night was the right move. If I forget about my embarrassing and obvious attempt to seduce him, I played everything else just right. I’m now totally in with Maykl. I can stay in his apartment. He’s going to bring me upstairs to see his pakhan.
And on top of that, he seems to want to help me with Anya’s funeral arrangements.
Which is…unexpected. And sweet.
A stab of guilt runs through me at my deceit. I’m taking advantage of his kindness.
But the bratva takes advantage of innocents all the time. On a daily basis, I’m sure. I’m sorry because it seems Maykl is one of the few decent ones, but I can’t let that stop me from my mission.
The FBI needs intel on the bratva, and in return, they will help me find Mika.
That’s all that matters here.
I remove the listening devices from the plastic bag and drop them loose into my pocket, so they are easy to grab. I have the opportunity to scatter them throughout the building now, but not without first disabling the security feed, and I can’t do that while Maykl’s on duty. Maybe tonight, after he’s asleep. But I’ll keep them on me, so if I see an opportunity to plant one, I can.
I give Stepanov a call, even though it’s late evening in Moscow.
“Did you get the bugs?”
“Yes, sir. I have them, and I should have the opportunity to plant them in the pakhan’s office sometime later today.”
“Excellent. Good work, Koslova.” My supervisor sounds exuberantalmost more enthusiastic with his praise than normal. Maybe he believes impressing the FBI will somehow bring him esteem. “I’m sure with you in that building, they will be able to get all the information they need to bring down the cell. I may fly out myself to facilitate things.”
I pause to absorb that. “Really, sir?”
“I don’t like the idea of you in there without backup. Even if I can’t be in the building with you, I’d like to be available for regular reporting.”
Something about that sounds wrong. Is he using this as an excuse to work closely with me? Does he still harbor some kind of interest in me that extends beyond my position?
“They are running your nephew’s name through the database now. Their databases are more extensive than the Chicago police department. If your nephew is alive, we should be able to find him now.”
For the first time since I arrived in this country, a shred of hope blooms in my chest. “Thank you, sir. That’s great news.”
“Yes. Listen, Koslova. I expect regular check-ins from you, so I know you’re safe. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll check in twice a day.”
“Very well. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I end the call and spread cream cheese on a bagel.
They’re looking for Mika. Soon, I hopeI would pray if I were the praying typeI’ll be reunited with the boy I’d do anything for.
And if I take down one branch of the organization responsible for killing my father, then that’s just icing on the cupcake.