10
IVAN
The shades are pulled down over the glass door and a “Closed” sign hangs in the window. Still, I knock.
There’s a security camera hanging just above the door. I know I’m being watched, but I don’t look at it. I don’t need to. Because the door will open for me in three, two, one…
“Mr. Pushkin!” Kieran’s voice is muffled by the glass as he fumbles frantically with the shades and the lock. “I didn’t realize you were coming in today. You didn’t call. I would have had the door open and unlocked if you’d—”
He opens the door. “Hello,” he repeats, beaming at me with the smile he reserves for his highest-paying customers.
I tilt my head in greeting. “Kieran.”
“I would have had the shop ready for you if you’d called ahead. Where is your lady? Is she with you or—” He looks past me to the sidewalk. Then his eyebrows jump. “Or is this a surprise for her?”
His words land like a fucking knife to the gut. I remind myself that Kieran doesn’t know. Of course he has no idea what just happened. He can’t fathom the guilt and rage tearing through me right now.
Which is why I clench my fist at my side instead of wrapping it around his throat.
“I’m alone and I need a favor.”
Kieran must pick up on the shaky control I have on my temper because he steps aside immediately and ushers me inside.
The shop is dark, but the little bit of sunlight coming through the blinds glints off the gold edges of the display cases. I can almost close my eyes and see Cora standing in this shop mere weeks ago.
She thinks I chose her gaudy engagement ring that day as punishment, but it was because that larger-than-life jewel was the only thing in this entire shop that could even begin to complement her the way she deserved. A beautiful woman needs a beautiful ring. Which means Cora deserves a fucking planet made of diamond.
Kieran flicks on a light. The memory dims and fades.
“I hope nothing serious is wrong,” he says with a frown. “If there's trouble with your ring, you know I will do everything to keep my best customers happy. Whatever you need—a rush job or a replacement jewel—I’m happy to—”
“I need you to hold onto this for me.”
I place the ring I just snatched off of Francia’s finger into Kieran’s palm.
His eyes widen. “Does your fiancée not like it? If she is unhappy, then I can make something else. A custom order. No cost.”
My fiancée is almost certainly unhappy. But not for any reason Kieran could possibly imagine.
“I just need you to hold onto it for me,” I tell him. “I need you to keep it hidden and tell absolutely no one I was here.”
Kieran closes his fist around the ring and nods. “Of course. Anything, Mr. Pushkin. I’ll keep it in my safe. I’m the only one who knows the combination.”
“Good.”
“Do you know how long you want me to keep it?” he inquires.
Until I can slide it back on the finger where it rightfully belongs.
“Not long,” I tell him. “It’ll be any day now.”
I can only hope it’s the truth.
* * *
Just as I climb back into the car, my phone rings. Yasha’s name flashes on the screen.
“Has Jorden said anything useful yet?” I ask when I answer.
“She’s still unconscious, but I’ll let you know,” Yasha replies. “Have you murdered Francia with your bare hands yet?”
“Not quite, but I have a lifetime of opportunity ahead of me. I’ll let you know.”
He curses under his breath. “I can’t believe you’re going to marry that bitch. I should have seen her coming. Why the fuck didn’t I see her coming?”
I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again. “We got distracted.”
I’m sure that was Francia’s plan. She sent Cora and Jorden to my party hoping I’d pay attention to one of them. That was her way in… and I fell for it—for Cora—hook, line, and sinker.
Yasha sighs. “Jorden trusted her. Cora did, too. I never even thought to look.”
“Feel free to make up for lost time and find out everything you can about her then. I’d like to know the woman I’m in bed with.”
There’s a pause. “You aren’t actually going to get into bed with her, are you?”
Just the thought makes me cringe. “Fuck no,” I snarl. “She is going to have her own wing of the house. I might even put a brick wall up between us. No love. No fucking.”
“You should have killed her,” he grumbles. “I mean, I know it wasn’t an option. But I wish it was.”
“You and me both.” I sigh wearily. I’ve never felt more exhausted in all my life. “Do you have an ETA on when Jorden might wake up?”
“Not yet. She’ll be okay, though,” he says. “Dr. Popov said she needed stitches and she’s concussed, but the only reason she’s asleep is because she’s tired and dehydrated. As soon as she gets some rest and fluids, she’ll be fine. She might have information.”
That would be a lucky fucking break. But if the last twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it’s to not hold my breath.
“Oh, and, um…” It’s not normal for Yasha to sound nervous, but he’s clearly beating around the bush right now. “Popov also mentioned that Jorden is going to need, like, a guardian. Or someone to watch her. You know, since she has the concussion. So I thought—”
“Stay with her.”
“Really?” He sounds astonished. “Because there is so much going on. I totally get that I’m needed back at the base. You’ll be busy with Francia, so someone has to keep the search alive. I can do a lot from the medical bay, but I could do more if I was there on the ground. So if you want me—”
“I want you to stop talking. I told you to stay with Jorden, so stay with her.” It’s the meanest I’ve ever sounded while delivering good news. “If she wakes up and has information, I want it as quickly as possible.”
What I don’t say is that I saw the way Yasha cradled Jorden in that alleyway. I heard the way he snapped at me for being too rough with her.
It’s the same way I would have snapped at him when it comes to Cora.
Yasha has never been in love before, but I think Jorden might be changing that. And as cold and unfeeling as I am, I don’t want to be what stands between Yasha and the woman he loves. Especially when I don’t think there is much Yasha can do to help me right now.
Where Francia is concerned, I’m on my own.
“Okay,” he says. “Thank you. I’ll stay here and handle whatever. Anything you need, I’m available. I’ll look into Francia and see what I can dig up. But what else is there? What’s your plan?”
That’s a great question. All I’ve done so far is react to the situation in front of me.
Francia disappeared, so I went to look for her.
Cora was kidnapped, so I rushed to save her.
Francia threatened Cora, so I did what I had to do to keep her alive.
Now, finally, it’s my turn to make the first move. And there is only one thing that makes sense.
“We find Cora.”
Yasha sighs. “Yeah. That’s what I want, too, man, but… I have to be honest, I don’t know how to do that. Francia slipped under all of my radars. We had an inkling the Sokolovs were involved, but I never picked up on Mikhail specifically playing a role in all of this. And Cora’s stepdad has been elusive. Alexander McAllister never came up on any of my searches. If he’s working with Mikhail again, they could be hiding Cora anywhere. I don’t know where to start.”
“The usual suspects won’t be of any help. Mikhail has obviously kept his part in all of this quiet, so there won’t be any rumblings about it in the usual places. And we can’t march into Konstantin Sokolov’s office without warning again.”
Especially if what I did to help Katerina escape has made its way back to Konstantin. He will not be pleased with me after hearing that news.
“So we go to a new source,” I continue. “To the person who will have more dirt on Cora’s mom and stepdad than anyone else.”
“Who would that be?” he asks.
“Cora’s father.”