Page 23 of Daddy Brigadier

She chuckles. “Not at all. My assistant is finalizing the headcount.”

“No date.” Honestly, I didn’t even want to have this party, but Andrei and his wife, Cora, insisted it would benefit the Bratva since many influential people in New York would be attending. I’m not about to spend my night catering to some woman whomight want to drag me onto the dance floor, hoping that being seen with me will elevate her social status.

I check my watch. “I should probably head home and take a shower.”

I step back from her and open her office door. “Hey, do you need any help?” she calls after me.

“Help with what?” I ask, turning back to her.

“I could take care of this girl, Lexi, for you,” she suggests with a lopsided smile, like she has a plan up her sleeve.

“Nah, I got it,” I reply with a snort, eager to keep Lexi to myself.

She gives me a quick, serious look before returning her attention to her computer. “Well, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

That might be the only compliment she has ever given me.

I strut out of the building and get into my vehicle. Lev sits next to me, gripping a photo tightly in his hand.

“What the fuck is that?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“You wanted to find out who killed Fedir,” Lev says, handing me the photo.

In it, I see the moment before Fedir’s death. Dancing next to him is a young blonde woman, a face and pair of tits I recognize all too well. This must have been why she left me alone in the warehouse. He must have been there that night when Petrov hurt her friend.

That little punk has always been trying to get in Petrov’s good graces. My girl has balls, more than the men she’s hunting down.

“Does the Colonel know she’s the killer?” I can’t help but stare at the photo of the girl I’m so eager to see again. I’m drawn to the by the thrill of punishing her and discovering how much she’ll endure without resisting.

“Nikolai is getting the same briefing you are.”

Lexi has now become an enemy of the Coalition, and if I don’t kill her, Nikolai will.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LEXI

Bursting into the room, I scream as her big blue eyes find me. With my arms wide open, I jump onto her, giving her the biggest hug. “Ruby!”

She lets out a faint cough, making me quickly realize that I’ve overwhelmed her. “Sorry!” I take a seat at the edge of the bed while Robyn and Lacey gently hug Ruby.

Three months after that harrowing night, Ruby finally emerged from her coma, but it came at a steep cost—extensive surgery that left me staring at a half-million-dollar bill, of which I still owe half. When she was ready to begin her recovery, I reached out to Ivy, who helped me get Ruby into the best rehab facility, but not without a hefty price tag. Today, they expect a $250,000 check. Yet it’s worth every penny because we’ve just learned that Ruby can come home.

The financial strain is squarely on my shoulders—a low-status assassin in New York, piecing together odd jobs to make ends meet. With Ivy’s connection to the Bratva, she’s been able to help me, sending jobs my way. This is why I want to refuse to believe she could be aware of the Savins’ plan to target me.

Ruby is still recovering, and we all notice her eyes getting heavy and the yawns she’s trying to conceal behind her hand.

“Get some rest.” I pat her on the leg. “Who knows how long it’ll take to do the paperwork?”

I stand by the window, watching patients enjoying the small garden outside, embracing the warm city day. I’ve never been an outdoorsy type of girl. You won’t catch me on a hike or building a flower garden.Nope!However, I do love the beach; it reminds me of my sister. When we were little, we’d spend hours at the Seattle coast, mesmerized by the cold waves and their soothing rhythm. It was a slice of peace in a life that often felt unbearably chaotic.

Ruby coughs softly, and I glance over at her, recalling her first trip to the beach. She was so excited that she leaped straight into the icy Pacific Ocean, utterly unaware of how cold the water would be. I quickly gave her my clothes to help her warm up and treated her to hot chocolate. I’ve been taking care of Ruby ever since that day.

Ruby and I grew up together in a trailer park near Seattle. When Mom passed away, I was left there all alone, so I planned a trip to the East Coast for my eighteenth birthday. To escape her drug-addicted parents, Ruby offered to join me.

With fake IDs and some cash, we hitchhiked with teenage boys from Seattle to New Jersey, our final destination a strip club where Ruby’s cousin worked. The bald older man who owned the club must have known we were barely legal. We were young and attractive, and all he cared about was how much money we could make for him.

Ruby leaped onto the pole our first night, and with every dollar bill the men tossed her way, she danced even more provocatively. I admired her confidence, but deep down, I recognized that I had made a mistake. While I wholeheartedly supported my fellow girls who found it empowering, I quickly realized that dancing for cash wasn’t for me. The bar managernoticed my hesitation and offered me the open bartending position instead.