23
IVAN
The moment Francia and Anya disappear down the driveway, Yasha arrives. “They’re gone?” he asks.
“For now. But we don’t have endless time.”
I’ve swept my bedroom and office for cameras and microphones countless times since Francia moved in. I’m confident she isn’t recording any of my conversations. The only danger left is that she could somehow eavesdrop on my meetings herself. Hence getting her out of the house.
Despite what Anya probably thinks, I’m not just sending her out on the town with Francia as some kind of twisted punishment. She’s giving us vital time to plot and plan. She’s getting us one step closer to Cora.
When we get to my office, I lock the door while Yasha spreads out a stack of papers he brought with them. A few of them are large, architectural plans sketched out in graphite.
“Alexander’s house,” he explains.
“That didn’t take long.”
He smiles. “Fun fact: the night security guard at City Hall is easily bought with a couple courtside basketball tickets and a crisp one-hundred dollar bill.”
“Hopefully, Alexander’s staff can be just as easily bought.”
“So far, so good,” Yasha says. “The main problem is that Alexander hires and fires maids so fast. One of the maids said that he canned her without paying her a cent. The cheap asshole. I covered her lost wages with a little bonus in exchange for some tales of her time in the McAllister household.”
“That explains why he needs Cora so badly. He’s broke.”
It’s an explanation, but there is no excuse for what he’s done. And there sure as fuck will be no salvation.
“When we’re done with him,” Yasha snarls, “he’ll have a lot more to worry about than his lack of money. Lack of a head, for instance.”
I laugh grimly.
Then we buckle down and get to work.
Aside from the maids we’ve planted, Yasha has access to one of the security cameras. It’s an exterior angle, but it gives us an idea of who is coming and going from the house. Mainly, the answer is Mikhail Sokolov.
“He isn’t there in the evenings,” Yasha says. “As much as I know you want to kill him—”
“You don’t have any fucking idea how much I want to kill him,” I growl.
“Well, regardless, we should probably wait until he isn’t around to go in and get her.”
I grimace but nod. “The fewer casualties, the better. I don’t want them to be able to tie any of this back to me. Not if Alexander is half the fixer that Cora’s dad thinks he is.”
“That’s another thing.” Yasha straightens up, wincing as his back pops. We’ve been bent over my desk for a long time. “I’ve been thinking about what Marcus said. I didn’t realize exactly how much sway Alexander has over… well, everybody.”
“So?”
He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “I want to get Cora out of there as much as anybody, but we have to do it in a way that won’t ruin the rest of your life. Or the rest of my life. Or the rest of her life.”
“I know. We get in; we get out. No casualties if we can help it.”
“I think we need to hit pause on any rescue plans until I can get more security in the house. If we just—”
“No.”
The word rips out of me before I can even understand what Yasha is saying. It’s an instinct.
Leave Cora in the hands of my enemies? No.
Be apart from her longer than necessary? Never.
Abandon her after I promised I’d get her out? I don’t fucking think so.
“I know, I know.” Yasha has his hands raised like he’s trying to ease me off a ledge. “We need to get to her as soon as possible.”
“Not as soon as possible,” I correct. “Immediately.”
“But we don’t do any good if we barge in there and are unprepared. Which is why I want to get some more cameras put in place. I already have one of the maids on the inside working on it. If things go our way, it will only add a day or two to the plan.”
“And if they don’t go our way?”
Yasha hesitates. “Things will go our way. They always do.”
“If things always went my way, Cora would be in my bed and Francia would be in a shallow grave.”
“Both of those things are going to be true, brother,” Yasha says softly. “I’m going to make sure of that.”
In the end, my good sense wins out. I nod reluctantly. “Get the cameras up as soon as possible. Cora is scared. I want to get her home.”
Yasha frowns at my word choice. I do, too. It’s the second time I’ve slipped up like that. This can’t be Cora’s home. No matter how much I want it to be. I’m to free her from the hellhole she’s trapped in—but after that, if I want to keep her safe…
I have to let her go.
Before Yasha can say anything, my phone rings. He leans over and checks my screen to see Francia’s name. “Speaking of the devil. Not to say we were talking about her. Just that she is, you know, the devil.”
“Maybe Anya actually tried to push her off a cliff.”
Yasha’s eyes widen. “Was that her plan?”
“I guess I’ll find out.” I press my phone to my ear. “This is Ivan.”
“I know who you are,” Francia croons. There’s no sign of anger in her voice. After last night, I expected a freeze-out. Apparently, Francia has other ideas. “I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t.”
“Who is this again?”
She laughs. “Don’t tease me, Ivan.”
“What do you want?”
There’s a beat before she answers. “You.”
I tense. The urge to throw my phone through the nearest window grows stronger.
“You here with me,” she continues quickly as her jokey seduction attempt falls flat. “At lunch.”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt the sisterly bonding.” Or be in the proximity of both Francia and a steak knife. Seems like a recipe for disaster.
“No fear of that. Anya left after the jewelry store.”
I grit my teeth. “Why is that? The plan was for the two of you to have lunch.”
“And I changed the plans,” she says cheerfully. “I want to go out on the town with my fiancé. Unless you have something more important going on?”
“Actually,” I hedge, “I am busy.”
“Too busy for me?” she asks, her voice pouty. “If you don’t want to come, I guess I could check in on how Cora is doing.”
Hearing Francia say her name sends me to my feet. My hackles rise. It’s a threat; we both know it. She’s threatening Cora so I’ll cooperate.
Which means she’s up to something.
“Fine,” I grit out. “Text me the address. I’ll be there.”
“This is going to be so fun!” she gushes. “See you soon.”
I hang up and take a deep breath. Then I crack open one eye to look at Yasha. “Just a few more days?”
“Two, tops,” he confirms. “She’ll be out of our lives soon.”
If I have anything to say about it, Francia will be out of everyone’s lives soon. The world will thank me.