“We’ve been through this before,” I growled. “You can’t see the screen if you stay there. I can’t see it if you’re facing me.” I looked at the spare chair that she’d been claiming. It was pushed against the wall, but she understood the order.
She dragged it over and sat while she opened the laptop again. To my left, but with more than a few inches between us.
“Like I said before, I had concerns that these unnamed and unregistered shell companies are linked to a singular entity. Or person.”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair, elbow on the armrest, chin in hand. Her melodic voice coasted over me, prompting me to focus on her, to be in the moment. Nothing else could cut into my attention so long as I listened to her concise summary of the trails she’d been tracking. She’d put in more than a little effort to identify who had originated these shell companies. Using examples of interference with payments in the Bratva accounts, she guided me down the paths she explored to pick up more clues about who had what account with what institution. And who the people were behind those locations.
I was all ears.
She didn’t ramble or go off on any tangents. When she spoke about her work, it represented her fervor in doing the job right the first time. She was passionate, if such a thing could be said about numbers and accounting work.
But as she explained and demonstrated what she’d found, I struggled to keep the naughty memories of her at bay. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, admiring the angelic profile of her face. I couldn’t resist the lure to stare at her and envision a repeat of what I’d done to her at the front door of the guest house two nights ago.
“And no matter which way I look, it comes back to one rental agreement. All the trails lead to this network, orchestrated by him.”
I furrowed my brow, only now realizing she actually had a name for me.
“Who?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never heard of him before. I mean, I’ve never seen this name. When my father had me handling the ‘secret’ accounts, no real names were provided. I like that. If I were ever to be a target or in trouble for being an accomplice like this, moving money around for syndicated crime families…”
I set my hand on hers. She didn’t flinch, but she faced me with a worried frown.
“I’ve always been nervous about what I know. Not enough to incriminate anything, because I only see the numbers and accounts and the aliases or shell company labels, but…”
“Elena.” I kept my hand on hers, a paltry gesture of comfort. “You do understand there are risks with what you’re looking into.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
“And I won’t lie, you need to be warned that there are always consequences for knowing too much.”
She nodded, looking uneasy.
Being honest with her felt good. I wouldn’t lie to her and give her a false sense of security. Instead, I privately vowed that Iwouldprotect her. No matter what. She’d come to me from a man who mismanaged the Bratva finances. She wasn’t a Volkov or due any selective security detail.
But she wasn’tjustan accountant, either.
“I know,” she said again. “That’s why I feel anxious about zeroing in on one name. One source for all these companies that link into a network.”
“What’s the name?” I asked, taking my hand off hers.
“Right there.” She pointed the cursor to highlight a field on a form. It looked more like a contract, but the context didn’t matter.
The name did.
A name I never imagined seeing again.
Not like this.
Blood raced through me, making my heart pump faster in an instant. My limbs were leaden, heavy and too cumbersome tomove if I’d tried. I sat there, so still that it was as though I’d turned to stone.
As though I’d been hit with a train.
Crushed and on fire, crumbling apart but rattling to explode all at once.
Gregori?
The roar of my pulse was deafeningly loud as I stared at the highlighted field she’d selected.
