I start for his door knowing this conversation is over and I have shit to get done today. But he calls me.
"Kaz." He waits until I turn around to continue. "Whoever's doing this… They're not just playing around. It could be dangerous."
"I hear you."
"I need you to really hear me." He narrows his eyes at me in a stern expression. "Don't let the temporary things blind you to your responsibility to protect this family."
I know what he's saying and what he's not saying but insinuating. As I walk out to my car, I let my thoughts stray back to Zora and whether she may be capable of something like this, but I know her. I've listened to her talk about her life and her brothers and how she wants more. She's so sincere with me, encouraging me, interested in me—not my status in the family. I just can't make myself believe it could be her.
I'm halfway home when my phone buzzes and I use my handsfree unit to answer.
"It's Kaz," I say, my mind snapping to the thought that I have to get a new phone right away.
"This is Yuri Federov." He's the primary investor behind the American's Russian debut—put up the money for the travel, the venue, the promotional campaign. Roman snagged him and it's my job to keep him happy, and his tone tells me I've failed at that. "I'm calling because I want you to explain to me how a fighter I invested twenty-three million rubles in is laid up with a shattered knee."
"I understand your frustration, Mr. Federov, and?—"
"Frustration doesn't begin to describe what I'm feeling." Papers rustle on his end, and he's breathing heavily like his chest is heaving. "I invested in this operation because Roman Kuzin gave me his word that his organization could deliver a world-class event. He can't even fight in his condition."
"Yes, I know, but we were ambushed. There wasn't a way we could plan for?—"
"And whose responsibility was security?" This fucker keeps cutting me off and I'm starting to get pissed. I suck in a deep breath and grip the steering wheel harder before I respond.
"Mine."
"Then this is your failure, Kazimir. Not the attackers'. Yours." He pauses like he's waiting for me to respond, but I don't want to start talking again and get cut off. Besides, I'm furious and sort of ashamed I let this happen. "I vetted this deal personally and put my name on it. You were supposed to do better than this. Do you understand what that means for the money I've invested? For the promotional deals we had lined up?"
"I understand what's at stake," I grumble, but I’m backed into a corner. I don't know how Roman would talk this man down, butI know it'll cost us more than just the money he put into this. Our reputation will take a huge hit now.
"My trust in the Kuzin name was clearly misplaced." He grumbles a few words I can't hear and then says, "And I still backed you after hearing about that betting catastrophe. When they all wanted to pull out, I urged them to trust my gut. And maybe I was very wrong about that too."
"That wasn't me," I say defensively, but there's no way to prove that to a man who's angry and on a rant.
Federov exhales into the phone. "I don't know what's happening inside your operation and frankly, I don't care. What I care about is my investment, which is now worthless, and my reputation, which is now attached to a disaster. I'll be speaking to Roman directly when he returns and I'll be recommending that he reconsider who he puts in charge of high-value operations."
"Mr. Federov, if you'll give me a chance to?—"
"I've given you enough chances. I expect a full accounting of what happened within the week. If I don't get one, my lawyers will be in touch."
The line goes dead, which means he hung up on me, and he's so angry, there's no point calling him back to explain anything.
Ro is gonna kill me, and Timur is close to it as it is. I know this fight ring is their baby. They've been at this maybe longer than I've been alive. When I was born, Roman was already thirteen, out on the streets fighting to earn his keep. Those early fights were just street scuffles, but today it's a multi-billion-dollar organization he runs meticulously with a tight fist, and forces outside my control are fucking it up.
I can't let this get in my head and throw me off my game because I still have the big fights coming up. All I can do is replace my phone, buckle down, and make sure the rest of the things I've been tasked with while Roman is on his honeymoon go smoothly. If not, I can kiss my place in this organization goodbye. I'll be back to mopping mats and being the meathead bouncer at the night club.
And I'm not about to move backward.
18
ZORA
Bogdan holds the door open for me and I walk into Dr. Popov's office wishing I were anywhere else on earth. The waiting room is empty because Bogdan called ahead and made sure it would be, and the receptionist doesn't even look up when we pass her desk and head straight for the exam room at the back of the hall. Popov has been our family doctor for longer than I remember, and when we call on him, this is standard procedure.
"I can't believe you're doing this to me," I say as he closes the door behind us. Being dragged into the doctor as if I'm a naughty child about to be punished is humiliating. I'm an adult and I make my own choices. The fact that my brother thinks he gets to micromanage those choices really pisses me off.
"You said you've been sick for a week." He crosses his arms over his puffed-out chest the way he does when he's trying to assert his authority over one of our fighters. It makes me want to kick him in the shin.
"It could be food poisoning," I grumble, knowing full well if this were food poisoning, I'd have been in the hospital by now. All the signs are there, and I was just stupid enough to let my brother know I'm having them. Why he even cares is beyond me. It's not his life that's over if I'm pregnant.
