“And Hugo?” I wait for him to once again return his phone to his ear before instructing, “Stay out of Isabelle’s apartment. You’re not there as a guest, and pretending you are could end disastrously.”
“Understood.” His tone is so clipped, I imagine him giving me the one-finger salute before a better idea to even the score pops into his head. “And I appreciate your belief she’ll beg for me to come inside. I’m a pretty lovabl—”
I disconnect our call before his name lands on the top of my termination papers. Then, just as quickly, I slip a hundred-dollar bill into the hand of the security officer manning the private entrance of Ravenshoe Domestic Terminal. Colt Enterprises’ jets are housed here, but it still takes a handful of greens to skip stringent aviation protocols.
“Jesus Christ,” I grunt out when I glide past a hangar far enough to spot the reason flashing lights are brightening the sky. A private jet in the middle of the tarmac is surrounded by patrol cars, and Ryan is shouting into a PA speaker demanding for the passengers inside to disembark one at a time with their hands behind their heads.
If it isn’t bad enough Ravenshoe PD is trying to keep members of the Popov entity in a realm they don’t belong in, the situation worsens when the first person to exit the idling jet isn’t Albert Sokolov.
It is Nikolai.
54
“It was him or me.” With his muddy boots on the table his wrists are meant to be cuffed to and an unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, Nikolai spears a rookie officer in place with a rueful glare before he jerks up his chin, wordlessly demanding for him to light his cigarette.
“This is a non-smoking facility,” Ryan snaps out as pissed at Nikolai as he is me. He told me I had called in all my favors, yet here I am, in the underbelly of Ravenshoe PD, speaking with a man the FBI would give anything to add to their list of detainees.
Claiming you have power is one thing, but actually having it is another. I have it. Nikolai is grappling for it, and Ryan will never fully understand what it takes to maintain it once you get it.
“Now…” Nikolai growls out in a low, gravelly tone, startling the young officer so much he physically jumps. “Before I inform thisvyperduschthat he isn’t the one giving orders around here, I—”
“Am,” I interrupt, more than happy to remind Nikolai he isn’t the one running the show. I got his cuffs removed. I had him brought from the holding cell to an interview room. Just like I’m the one interrogating him. “And although I usually caution people about doing anything that shortens their life expectancy, I don’t need to worry about that with you, do I? Your days are already numbered.”
I’m not referencing the charges he’s facing. He wouldn’t serve ten years of any sentence handed down. Mafia men barely live past the age of thirty, and they don’t have a noose wrapped around their necks as firmly as Nikolai. He’s being choked by a system determined to swallow him whole. He is just too fucking stubborn to admit it.
The young officer’s eyes shoot to Ryan when I lift my chin, instructing him to light Nikolai’s cigarette as requested. Ryan grumbles under his breath that I better know what I’m doing before answering his colleague’s unvoiced question with a head bob.
Nikolai’s hands ball when the officer leans across the stainless-steel table his shackles are tossed on, but he keeps them on the gleaming material instead of in the officer’s face. His unexpected leniency is appreciated. If he had lashed out, I would have left him to fend off his charges alone.
“Why are you here?” I ask once his cigarette is lit and the officer is back manning the door.
A plume of smoke escapes Nikolai’s mouth as he slouches low in his chair. “As I said previously, it was either him or me.”
“Him—”
I cut Ryan off with a swipe of my hand. I don’t know how much Nikolai knows, and although I don’t see Ryan using Isabelle’s true lineage against her, the fewer people tied up in this tangled mess, the better. “So you are aware of what he’s up to but doing nothing to change it.”
Nikolai laughs. It is as brittle as the scar the head of his dragon tattoo can’t conceal when he stretches like he’s struggling to stay awake. “Spoken like a guy not about to pedal in the kiddie market.”
I cut Ryan off for the second time. He’s not happy, but I don’t care. I don’t answer to him. I answer to no one but myself. “You can’t trade if there aren’t any goods for sale.” Nikolai twists his lips before he gives a halfhearted shrug. He doesn’t seem invested in trafficking minors, but I’ve misjudged people before, and it would be foolish for me to do it again now. “You shouldn’t be taking this lightly, Nikolai. You are facing a long list of charges.”
“Finally,” Ryan breathes out, happy I’ve reached the reason he believes I asked to speak to Nikolai.
“Charges for what?” Nikolai asks, his tone as obnoxious as Ryan’s eye roll. “Traveling to visit my brother? He moved out here a couple of weeks back.” He strays his narrowed eyes to Ryan. “Didn’t he?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Ryan defends while folding his arms in front of his chest. “Besides, he has a hundred brothers, so how am I supposed to know who he’s talking about?”
He’s lying. I know it. He knows it, and so does Nikolai.
“Then what is our meeting about?” Nikolai doesn’t give him the chance to answer. “The jet is privately owned. Our flight plan was lodged with the FAA before we took off, and although I live a highly adventurous life, I kept my seat belt on until we landed.” He holds his hands out in front of himself, mocking an innocence he will never pull off. “I swear, Mr. Officer, I’m a good boy…” His lips furl into a pompous grin. “Until your sister begs me not to be.”
He missed the mark there. Neither Ryan nor I have sisters. But it does expose he isn’t as deeply involved in this operation as some key members. The instant Albert requested a meeting, Hunter combed through his family tree until we knew every second cousins’ nickname.
After pulling out the chair across from Nikolai, I unbutton my suit jacket then take a seat. “Why are you really here, Nikolai? And don’t give me some bullshit excuse about visiting your brother. Vladimir pits you against each other too often to act cordially.”
I hit a mark with my comment, and although it causes a twitch to form underneath Nikolai’s bruised eye, he maintains his cool. Barely. I’m skeptical he would have held back if I hadn’t delivered his knife to Col as requested. We would have come to blows as it appears he did with someone before arriving here.
“As I’ve fuckin’ said three times already…” his nostrils flare as he slowly breathes out, “… it was him or me.” He pops his elbows onto the table before leaning in real close. “And from what I’ve heard, you should be real fucking grateful I accepted the baton.” I consider how much capital I’ll need to part with to bribe a judge when he mutters, “But you’ve lost your shot now. He might want to take his sons down, but he’ll never give that privilege to someone else.” Confident I’ve got the message, he drags his eyes to the expensive timekeeping contraption circling my wrist. “You’ve got an hour.”
