Page 146 of Captive Ruin

“You called her a spoiled princess. Now you care?”

“I was wrong, okay? She isn’t.” Tony sighs. “I’ve spent every other day of the last two months with her. Of course I care.”

“Don’t care too much,” I growl.

“I’m not an idiot, Lukas. I know she’s yours.”

“Keep me updated.” I kill the call.

He says the right things, but I still spend too long poring over footage, watching how she looks at him, her comment about his ass ever present in my mind. But there’s nothing. My Little Stray was just being provocative, and Tony is careful to keep his distance. I almost reassign him anyway, except I trust the guy and he’s the best we have. If anything goes wrong, Amelia will need the best.

Early March, Bastien calls me.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he says without preamble. “Koval reached out. He wants to meet.”

Fucking finally. “Where? When?”

“Manhattan, tomorrow. He asked for you by name. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I?”

Shit. If they know it’s me, then that’s put Amelia right in their sights. If they go after her, I’m going to kill every last one of those fuckers, whatever it takes.

“No, you don’t,” I say coldly. Although he probably does. I’m not thinking as clearly as I should be.

“I’ll send you the details. Good luck.” The line goes dead.

“Haynes,” I say. He’s never far from me these days. “Where are we?”

“Uh…” It takes him a second. “San Francisco.”

“We’re taking the jet home. Tonight.”

Koval’s choice is a gentlemen’s club in the Meatpacking District.

“Keep your trigger fingers ready but not twitchy,” I say to the men as we drive over. “We don’t want a bloodbath.”

Haynes clears his throat. “I’d like to state again, for the record, that I think this is a fucking stupid idea. You’re being rash. It’s not like you.”

I meet the eyes of each of them. “Then the rest of you need to be that much cooler, don’t you?”

Haynes is probably right, but I want this over. I want this war done, I want Amelia safe, and I want to get back to her. The last update from Tony has me more worried than ever.

What’s the point of keeping her safe if I lose her in the process?

We’re met inside by armed guards, and a metal detector which we ignore. They watch us, we watch them, the tension already running high.

“Are you armed?” one of them asks, his accent strong.

“Of course we’re fucking armed.”

“No entry with weapons.”

I cross my arms. “Sovietnik Koval called this meeting, not you. Ask him if he’s wasting my time and wants me to go back to hunting his brigadiry.”

The man turns half away, pressing his finger to his ear, listening for all of three seconds. “You go in,” he grunts, jerking his head to a set of stairs leading down.

“Thank you so very kindly.”

I lead the way, my men following me, Haynes bringing up the rear. There’s another guard at the bottom, and a set of double doors which he opens. The club inside is a large open space with a bar and a dancer’s pole, with a half-dressed girl gyrating around it. There are no patrons, but a dozen of Koval’s men sit around at the tables or lean against the bar, watching us, several of them with girls on their laps.