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Darius’s fingers tightened about Mia’s. “How the hell did you know about that?”
“I’m privy to everything that happens in my city.”
Darius grimaced. “Then you know that their landlord is a charlatan, who takes advantage of young university students who can’t afford any other accommodation and are too afraid to complain. I didn’t hurt him, I merely pointed out the error of his ways.”
“Which is why there is currently an army of painters, decorators, and builders working on the house, and Mia’s flatmates are comfortably ensconced in a rather nice hotel.” The Russian nodded. “My conversation with Bart’s man ran along similar lines,” he drawled before straightening. “During that conversation I learned that, before her death, a Mrs. Gloria Fletcher worked for an accountancy firm in the city. She was also the money launderer for Anthony Bart.”
“Giles Fletcher’s mother was?” Mia frowned her puzzlement. Obviously, she’d never met the other woman, because Honey hadn’t needed to live with Giles until after his mother died. But from the things her son had said about her, she’d sounded like she was a good mother.
A good mother who, it seemed, had laundered money for London’s most notorious criminal gang!
“Yes,” Nikolai confirmed. “A month ago, Bart discovered that Mrs. Fletcher was syphoning off some of his money to herself before the rest was transferred into his offshore accounts. Never large amounts, but over time, it has amounted to millions of pounds. For Bart, it wasn’t the amount of money, but the act itself. It could not go unpunished.”
Mia gasped as an idea occurred to her. “Did Gloria die of natural causes?”
“Her death was ruled a suicide by the police and coroner,” Nikolai stated. “But a woman in a wheelchair would not have been able to throw herself off the balcony of her tenth-floor apartment.”
Mia hadn’t known that was how the other woman died, but she did remember seeing the incident as a local news item a couple of months ago. She just hadn’t linked that death and Giles’s mother being the same person.
“She was murdered,” Mia stated evenly.
“Yes,” Nikolai confirmed. “But not before two of Bart’s men had…questioned her as to where the money was hidden. Obviously, they didn’t receive the answers they wanted, or they wouldn’t have felt the necessity to later question her son on the same subject. Unfortunately for him, he had no idea of his mother’s dealings with the Bart gang, and consequently no knowledge of where his mother might have put the stolen money.”
“So, two people have died, a mother and her grown-up son.” Darius frowned darkly. “All because the mother decided to steal some of the money she was laundering for a criminal gang?”
“Exactly so,” Volkov confirmed.
“And the money is still missing,” Casper put in.
“My informant told me that Bart’s men did manage to get Mrs. Fletcher to admit that she kept the details of her own offshore accounts on a portable memory stick. But she continued to refuse to tell them where it was and apparently had a heart attack and died before they could pressure her any further. They threw her over the balcony so that any…evidence of their torture would be attributed to the fall.”
“They thought her son knew where it was,” Mia realized, trying not to think too deeply about the torture part of his statement. “Which is why they ransacked Giles’s apartment before sli—killing him,” she amended before swallowing down the nausea caused by once again envisaging the brutal way in which Giles had died. “They thought he had the memory stick.”
“They found nothing because Fletcher had no idea what they were talking about.” The Russian shrugged. “Why would he when he had no idea his mother was secretly working for a criminal gang?”
“They killed him because hedidn’tknow those things,” Sinclair, the eldest Kingston brother, realized.
“Yes.”
“So the money is lost?” another of the Kingston men asked.
Max, Mia believed, from his shaved head.
“Not exactly.” Volkov gave another of those wolfish smiles.
Mia frowned at him for a few seconds before her brow cleared. “You know where the memory stick is.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“I know where the memory stick is,” he confirmed as eight pairs of eyes were now all trained on him.
“Well, don’t just stand there looking pleased with yourself. Tell us where the fuck it is,” Darius demanded impatiently. “It could be our only bargaining chip for forcing Bart’s agreement not to come after Mia.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You will adjust your tone when talking to me. Friendship will only excuse so much,” he warned.
Darius released Mia to clench his hands into fists. “I doubt you would adjust your tone if it was your woman’s life that was in danger. Sorry,” he muttered when Mia turned to look at him, a blush in her cheeks. “But we need to have that conversation before I make assumptions and call you anything else.”
She chuckled. “‘Your woman’ will do just fine for the moment.” She’d never been anyone’s anything before now, and the thought of belonging to,withDarius, warmed a cavity in her heart that had been empty until now.
“You are quite right, Darius. I would burn the whole of London to the ground in my search for anyone who would dare to threaten my Daisy or our children,” Nikolai allowed with an apologetic inclination of his head toward Mia. “As for the memory stick… Perhaps you would all like to turn your thoughts to what remained consistent in both Gloria and Giles Fletcher’s lives.”
