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Kirill hadme arrested to keep me out of the way. All the stuff about sending me abroad; he clearly hadn’t expected me to go quietly, so he’d done something I couldn’t fight. I might have applauded his ingenuity if I wasn’t quite so spitting mad. More than anger, though, was the fear. This was it. Whatever was going to happen with Viktor and Nikolai, it was happening in the next forty-eight hours, and I wasn’t going to be around. I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck in police custody.
The squad car pulled out into traffic as one of the officers turned and gave me a comforting smile.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Chernova, you won’t be charged with anything, just held for questioning. Once your lawyer comes, he’ll explain.”
“Great,” I muttered, folding my arms and staring out at the city. “Can I make a call?”
“Sure,” the officer replied, before turning around.
I called Kirill immediately and listened to the phone ring and ring. He wasn’t answering, and I knew why. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say about his safety stunt.
My phone chimed in my hand, and I realized I had a voicemail. I held the phone to my ear and listened to it.
“By now,you’ll no doubt be angry at me and rethinking your life choices. I know. I’m a bastard, but I’m the bastard who vowed to keep you safe to the end of your days, and I don’t mean just at the courthouse. I vowed it nine years ago when I first saw you in Black Hall Prep. My life began and ended with you, Molly, and everything that was worth something to me involved you.”
Hanging up,I turned and looked out the window as tears pressed against my eyelids. Had I spoken to Kirill for the last time? The tears dripped down my cheeks as we moved further away from the man who held my heart in his hands.
* * *
The officers,named Peterson and Smith, took me to a station on the Upper East side. It was more comfortable than TV shows led me to think it would be. Inside, I was put in an interrogation room, given a bottle of water, and left to my own devices. They were even kind enough to leave me my phone, which I used to call Kirill relentlessly until my battery died.
Then the lawyer arrived.
His name was Ronan Black, and he seemed utterly terrifying. Tall and built, he looked like one of Kirill’s inner circle had put on a bespoke suit and decided to play at being a lawyer. There was something brutal about him lurking beneath his icy blue eyes and golden stubble.
“Your last name is Black? Like Kirill,” I muttered, shaking his hand.
“Your husband and I have much in common,” he said smoothly.
His sharklike grin got on my nerves.“Does that make you a lying bastard, too?” I shot out, uncaring about how rude I was being at this point.
“Well, I am a mob lawyer, so that’s a given,” Ronan said smoothly and sat opposite me.
“How long are they going to keep me here?”
“They aren’t keeping you here, per se.”
“So, I can leave?”
“No.”
“So, they are keeping me here,” I reiterated.
Ronan smiled, but it was scary rather than comforting. “Kirill wants you here out of his way, where he knows you can’t get hurt. If you want to dispute that, take it up with your husband.”
“I’d love to, but he’s not answering his phone,” I fumed.
Ronan tossed me a dismissive shrug. “Not my problem.” He removed from his briefcase and held up an irritating finger. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get some work done while we wait for Levin.”
“Who? Why do I know that name?” I thought about it, and after a moment, the answer popped up. “He’s Kirill’s friend, right?”
“Friend is a stretch. He’s a business acquaintance who knows that keeping your husband happy is in his best interests.”
I glared at the lawyer for a moment, taking in his expensive cuff links and watch, and the general aura of danger about him. “Are you Chernov bratva?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not. I don’t like to limit my client pool to one family, when there are so many criminals needing defending in this city.”
“So, you’re just a scummy lawyer going where the money is without alliance to anyone?”
