Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Essential.
“I see,” I tell her, though I see nothing at all. “Thank you. Where are you having it?”
“That’s the strange thing. He asked that we move the venue to the waterfront this year.”
“Which waterfront?”
“The East River, the one that separates Manhattan from Brooklyn and Queens. It’s lovely there, with all the views of the bridges.”
I nod. I’ll miss The Cove, the only real home I’ve ever known.
This might be the easiest time for me to leave, with Aleksandr not here, and the house distracted with last-minute preparations for the gala.
“Ivy’s still sleeping but I might come down when she wakes.”
“Okay!”
I disconnect the call and know there’s no way I’m going down to breakfast.
I can’t stay here.
I open the door to the closet where my weapons are stored.
My primary obligation is to protect my daughter no matter the cost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Aleks
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Of course you fucking will.” Mario Rossi, an old-time friend, sits across from me nursing a drink. He tips his glass in my direction and smirks. “It’s the Christian thing to do.”
I snort and return the gesture, taking in the early morning blue in front of us. We’re sitting on Mikhail and Aria’s balcony, and we’ve just narrowed down the possibility of who attacked Harper to a small handful.
There’s movement behind us and I turn to watch Mikhail hold the baby to his chest. Aria’s passed out in the glider next to him, exhausted not just from baby care but because she tirelessly helped us with the research we needed.
Wordlessly, he rises and places a blanket over her before he nestles the baby into a bassinet and walks the length of the balcony to join us, looking disheveled and exhausted in his crumpled tee and sweats. But he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.
“How can babies sleep like that?” Mario says, shaking his head. “All tied up.”
“It’s called swaddling,” Mikhail says, rolling his eyes. “Makes them feel safe and comfortable and mimics the feel of being in the mother’s womb.”
Mario and I snort. “Well look at Mr. Mom over here.”
Mikhail flips him the bird then turns to me. “Who we killing?”
“Her brother for bringing his asshole friends around his sister and for failing to protect her. Then, whoever attacked her.”
“Of course you’re gonna fucking kill him,” he mutters, crossing his arms on his chest. “But remember, that’s her brother. She’ll have feelings and shit.”
“Her brother, who knew exactly who his friend was and what he was doing.” Which friend? We have no idea, but based on Aria’s findings, we’ve narrowed it down to only a handful.
“Fill me in,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. Mikhail had held and rocked the baby while I worked with Aria and she did her hacker magic.
“Mario showed us video from the night she was assaulted. It was easy to do, it was the only party she attended because her parents were out of the country.”
I reach for my laptop and show Mikhail the footage. In the uppermost corner of the screen, Harper turns to face the camera, her eyes wide and afraid. She’s holding a cocktail with a shaky hand, but even though it was a couple of years ago and the footage is bad quality, it’s still easy to see she’s gorgeous. Stunning. So innocent-looking with her wide eyes and freckled nose, I want to jump into the screen and throw my arms around her to protect her. I wish I could get back some measure of her innocence for her. I’d beat the fucking shit out of anyone who took it away from her.
“So it was that night she was assaulted.” I nod, trying to tamp down the need to break something. Red hot Lava surges in my veins. I breathe through my nose so I can see clearly again.
“We have a roster of who attended. Turns out that Volkov’s men hosted the event. So I questioned Petrov and Kuznetsov.”
Two men who came literally begging for us to take them in after the collapse of their Bratva group. Two men who have now proven themselves patient and loyal.
“And what did they tell you?”
“Almost all the guests were influential or wealthy, and often both. You know Volkov didn’t even pretend to be anything more than who he was. There was no currying favors or playing Mr. Nice Guy. He invited who he could use and work with, no more, no less. And we were able to narrow down a few more points.”
Mikhail nods.
“If she’d been assaulted by someone who had any stature or prestige, her family would’ve forced a marriage. But instead, they blamed her. So it had to have been someone who didn’t bring them any value. Of all the people that went that night, only her brother’s friends match.”
Mikhail nods. “Makes sense. So what’s your plan, then?”
“We’re moving the date of our gala up. It’s one place we could use to lure them in, and a venue we have total control over. I’ll use personalized invitations to lure the suspects and make them feel compelled to attend. I’ll leverage what Aria found out about who they are and what they’re obligated to.”