MasukCHAPTER TWENTY SIXNIKOLAI DRAGUNOVThe call had been from Henry. A breach in the outer perimeter — two men, dealt with in under twelve minutes. By the time I'd finished the debrief it was nearly four in the morning and the compound was quiet again.I went back to the study.She was asleep. Same armchair as the night before, the throw from the sofa pulled over her, the Dostoevsky open and face-down on her chest where she'd been using it as a placeholder while she waited.I stood in the doorway for a long time.Then I did what I had apparently started doing — straightened the throw, turned the lamp down but not off, and went to bed.But I did not sleep.---IRINA VOLKOVI woke to the sound of Galina in the kitchen at seven and the quality of light that meant I'd slept longer than I meant to.I lay still for a moment, looking at the ceiling, and did an inventory of what I was feeling. The inventory took longer than expected and produced results I wasn't ready to file anywhere.Galina ap
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVEIRINA VOLKOVGalina's words sat in the room like a stone dropped in still water.I watched the ripples reach Nikolai before I understood what I was watching. He was looking at his cards. He hadn't moved in four seconds.I looked at Galina.She was looking back at me with calm, attention — the saying was on purpose."Your mother," I said carefully. "She had green eyes.""She did." Galina set her cards face-down on the table. "Elena. She was from Novgorod originally. Came to Moscow at twenty-two for university and never left." A slight smile. "Vladmir saw her across a lecture hall and that was the end of him. He used to say she ruined him for every sensible decision he ever made afterward." She paused. "He meant it as a compliment."Roman had gone quiet in the way he went quiet when something in a room required it. He was looking at Nikolai.Nikolai set his cards down. "Babushka.""I'm telling the girl about your mother," Galina said pleasantly. "It's not a state sec
CHAPTER THIRTY FOURIRINA VOLKOVI sat with the photograph for exactly four minutes before I got up and walked down the hall and knocked on Nikolai's door.He opened it immediately. Still dressed, which meant he hadn't slept either.I held up the phone.He looked at the photograph. Then at Viktor's message. His expression didn't change but his jaw set in a controlled fury.He took the phone from my hand without asking, forwarded the image and number to Dmitri, and handed it back."Go to sleep," he said."He's outside this building—I mean, I checked, he's not there. But he might still be....""He was outside this building. Present tense, he's in a car two blocks away with four of my men watching him." He held my gaze. "He cannot get in. He cannot get to you. He's been standing in the street sending photographs because standing in the street sending photographs is the only thing left he can do." A pause. "He's frightened, Irina. Frightened men make noise. It doesn't mean they have power
CHAPTER THIRTY THREEIRINA VOLKOVI found them on the stairs by accident. I'd been looking for Katya and heard voices and stopped before the landing.I didn't hear what they said. I only saw from the angle of the corridor below, Katya three steps above Dmitri, looking down at him, and Dmitri looking up at her with an expression I had never once seen on his face in two months of working alongside him.it wasn't warmth or softness.The expression of a man who has just encountered something he didn't plan for and hasn't yet decided what to do about it.I backed away before either of them saw me.Found Roman in the corridor."So, Dmitri and Katya," I said quietly.Roman's face did something extraordinary. "Oh! You saw.""Yeah, I did."He pressed his lips together with suppressed energy, containing excitement. "I give it six months before he admits it and two years before he does anything about it.""That long?""Have you met Dmitri?"I thought about the man who had been professionally sk
KATYAI'd told the large terrifying man I had questions and he'd said they could wait until morning and I'd agreed because it was midnight and there'd been some kind of security incident involving men at the perimeter and I was choosing my battles.Morning came. I had all the same questions plus several new ones that had developed overnight.The first person I encountered in the kitchen was not Irina.It was a man. Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed, with a scar that ran from his left ear to his jaw and that stillness of someone who had trained the instinct to react out of himself through sheer discipline. He was standing at the coffee machine reading something on his phone with the focused attention, someone who did not expect to be interrupted.He looked up. I looked at him. Damn, he's such a sugar daddy. Fine as hell. A whole meal. Ten over ten and....dangerous. "You must be Katya," he said. His voice was low and unhurried."You must be one of the large men from last night.""Dmitri
IRINA VOLKOVThe backup generators turned the penthouse red. Katya's hand was on my arm. Galina had moved away from the windows without being asked twice, which told me she'd lived through enough of these moments to know what they meant.From below us, footsteps. Voices in Russian, clipped and directional. Nikolai's men moving with efficiency just like they've been trained."Irina." Katya's voice was very controlled. She was frightened and managing it, which was one of the things I'd always loved about her. "What's happening.""Security response. Someone breached the perimeter.""Someone breached—" She stopped. Started again. "Okay. Is this normal?""No.""Is your guy handling it?"I paused and finally said, "Yes.""Are we safe here?"Oh God, Katya!I looked at Galina, who had positioned herself near the interior wall away from the windows with calmess. Like she had been through this before and survived it. "Yes," I said. "We're safe here."Katya nodded. Took a breath. Took another o
IRINA VOLKOVI set down my wine glass carefully, my hand shaking. "I don't know what you're talking about."He knows me. Fuck he does. Who is he? One of Sergei's men? No....Damien has this power and money aura than Sergei's.So who the fuck is he?"Don't you?" Damien....no, not Damien, whoever the
IRINA VOLKOV But I had the check. The money was already mine. What harm could one drink do? And if I refused, if I seemed too eager to leave, it might raise suspicions. This is risky and fucking dangerous. Besides, there was something in his eyes. A challenge. Like he knew I wanted to refuse and
IRINA VOLKOVThe wine was excellent. Probably worth more than everything I owned. I took a small sip of my wine and set the glass down, hyperaware of every movement, every gesture. One fucking wrong move, one slip in my performance, and this could all fall apart."You look nervous," Damien observed
IRINA VOLKOVThe next morning, I took the metro to Tverskaya and found a secondhand boutique that catered to women who needed to look expensive without actually being expensive. The owner, a rail thin woman with black hair and calculating eyes, sized me up immediately.“Special occasion?” she asked







