Page 76 of Unholy Tsar

I blink and look down. To my surprise, Cecilia is hugging me.

“I’m sorry about that,” I mumble. “I must’ve gotten lost in the memories…”

“It’s alright. I-I just wish I could help. I wish I could make you feel better.”

I hold her tight, the warmth of her body more comforting than she could ever know. “You already have.”

Over the next few days, I’m caught up in a whirlwind of meetings with Mikhail Ivanov and other powerful oligarchs to find out who our anonymous supplier is. It quickly becomes clear that whoever it is, they’re good—unexpectedly good, and they’ve managed to cover their tracks so well that it’s like chasing a ghost.

My frustration mounts with each passing day, especially when it means spending less time with Cecilia. My anger becomes so palpable that even the clingy oligarchs start to back off. Still, they provide me with all the resources I demand, anything to get me on the soonest flight back to America.

“What are you trying to tell me?” I grit, pounding on the desk in front of me. “That the men I’m after don’t exist?”

The governor behind that desk, Sergei Fedorov, flinches at my outburst. “Of course not, sir. My men are trying their best to follow every lead… the problem is, so far, there’s simply been nothing to find. Whoever you’re after, they’ve been meticulous in covering their tracks.”

I blow out a breath, exasperated by yet another dead end. “Great, just great.”

“If I may,” Mikhail offers from the corner of the office. I wave a hand for him to continue. “People are scared, and not just of you. Whoever we’re looking for has the underworld in a chokehold. No one’s speaking. No one’s letting up. I’m inclined to believe that this could go deeper than previously thought.”

I nod in response, having reached the same conclusion myself. There’s some ominous force behind it all, and in order to uncover it, I might have to turn this city upside down.

But if I do that, I risk drawing the wrong kind of attention. A direct confrontation is fine, but the fact that word of my Tsarina has spread through the community makes me worried that such a thing would put her in danger.

I’m not willing to risk that. Clearly, this ghost has arms in America, so Cecilia wouldn’t even be safe if I sent her back home. She needs to stay near me.

“Fuck this,” I growl, pushing back on the governor’s desk. “It’s time to switch things up.”

Leaving Sergei and Mikhail behind, I step out of the governor’s office and call Dante.

“Boss?” he answers.

“Get the men ready,” I tell him. “Let’s show these fuckers who we really are.”

27

CECILIA

I open my eyes and stare up blankly at the ceiling. I don’t need to look at the empty space beside me to know Maksim is long gone. We’ve been in Russia for seven days now, and the last time we talked, really talked, was the night we arrived.

He took me to his hometown and laid his soul bare. Since then, though, it almost feels like I’m fading into one of the ghosts from his past. His days are filled with meetings and missions. And where has that left me?

Playing the role of a bored housewife.

Look, I know what he’s doing is important, but that doesn’t make me any less lonely. There’s no one to talk to, nothing to do, and nowhere to go. It's just a monotonous cycle of waking, eating, and sleeping.

I roll out of bed with a heavy sigh and shuffle to the bathroom, where I perform my ablutions listlessly. After getting dressed, I make my way into the living area. A full breakfast is already waiting for me.

The men bow as I approach, and I greet them with a nod. I’ve attempted conversations with them before, but they’re about as chatty as a rock. So, yet again, I eat my meal in silence. It doesn’t matter how rich the food is, it’s all starting to taste like rubber.

Part of me hopes this is just a transition phase. After so much time on the run, being confined to a pretty little lifestyle is quite the culture shock. But if this what the rest of my life is like, I’m not sure I want to get used to it.

After breakfast, I call the lobby to see if there’s a bookstore or a library nearby. I would kill to lose myself in a good book about now.

“No, ma’am, the closest bookstore is about thirty minutes away.”

Shit.

With nothing else to do, I turn on the TV and start flipping through the channels, hoping to find something interesting. But nothing captures my attention. Eventually, I settle for some random Russian soap opera and watch it with little interest.