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“What did I do?” I asked, wracking my brain. He wasn’t quick to take offense to anything; we’d barely spoken in the last few days.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he answered.
What a minute. He didn’t sound pissed; he sounded scared, even more rare from Leo. “What’s going on? Is something wrong with Papa?”
“The fact that what you’re up to is going to give him a heart attack,” he snapped. “But that’s not why I’m calling. You need to get back to Miami right away. Now. While we’re talking, I need you to start getting your ass to the airport.”
“Will you calm down and explain to me what’s got you sounding like—”
“Like my fucking sister’s trying to get herself killed?” he interrupted, taking a few seconds to swear under his breath before continuing.
I asked him as calmly as I could what he was on about, feigning all sorts of innocence because Leo knew where I was but not what I was trying to do. It seemed like he’d somehow found out.
“Can the act,” he said. “If I knew what you were really doing, I never would have helped you.”
“Sure, you would have,” I said, trying to get him to sound normal. “So, yeah. I’ve been hacking into the Novikoff’s security cameras and keeping an eye on them.”
“And they’re onto you, Ev. Papa’s going out of his mind and blaming me as if I’m responsible for your hare-brained schemes.”
Well, that stung, but I brushed it off. Getting a dressing down from our father wasn’t pleasant, to say the least. “I’m sorry, but you are four minutes older,” I teased.
“Are you not hearing me?” he roared as loudly as the king of the jungle he was named for. “They’re onto you. The operation is over. Come back to Miami or go home, but you can’t stay in New York anymore.”
“Leo, I’ve been watching them, listening to their conversations. Nobody’s onto me. Papa’s information is incorrect.”
He swore some more, and there was a long silence on both sides, a Morozov twin impasse that happened when neither of us wanted to concede.
“You’re out of your depth on this one,” he finally said. “And I’m not helping you anymore.”
I looked down at my phone, stunned that he had hung up on me. Hurt that he didn’t think I could handle myself. Irritation grew, and I tossed the phone onto the desk, shoving everything aside except for my main mission. Take down the Novikoffs and make their territory my own. The fire was even stronger now that their existence was bothering my father. I didn’t like him to worry about me, but I was certain nothing was awry.
Leo would come around. He always did. Still, that odd prickle of awareness I felt at the coffee shop returned to the front of my mind. Maybe I should listen to him, after all.
A ping from my computer drew my attention to the main monitor. I had another camera come online, showing a small, seedy bar interior. Three men huddled at a booth, deep in concentration. Enlarging the view, I couldn’t hold back a grin, despite my trepidation from mere seconds ago.
The head of the Novikoffs was gesticulating across the table at the others. Were they arguing over the best vodka, or was this the place they held their most important meetings? The only way to find out was to get the exact location—piece of cake—and go there and plant some bugs. Not easy, but doable. I had years of experience lurking around undercover, and my actress best friend had plenty of wigs and makeup.
I getting closer. No way I could give up because our dad heard something that spooked him and then yelled at Leo. I knew how to be careful, and I’d be even more cautious now that I’d been warned of a possible threat to my operation.
It was time to pick out a wig because I wasn’t about to give up just because my father and my four-minutes-older brother told me to.
Chapter 2 - Mikhail
This was my much-needed and long-awaited vacation, so it was a mystery why I was so tense. I had landed in New York only a few hours before to surprise my only daughter after not seeing her for nearly a year. Things weren’t exactly strained between us, but ever since she moved here to chase her crazy dreams, we definitely hadn’t seen eye to eye.
I probably should have gone down to the islands and slept for three days straight because as much as I wanted to see her, it would be anything but relaxing. I’d just ended a long campaign to retrieve stolen territory from a brand-new organization that sorely underestimated the Russian Bratva. My mistake had been trying diplomacy with them, drawing lines and expecting my rules to be followed. They crossed my lines one too many times and learned what my swift and total retribution looked like. A lot of cleanup was necessary after it was all over—literal and figurative. Yes, I needed this vacation, no matter how short and no matter that I’d probably spend most of it arguing with my daughter.
Suddenly the bloody memories of the recent war didn’t seem so harrowing with what I was about to face.
I had my driver drop me off a few blocks from Kristina’s apartment; not sure if I shouldn’t have called ahead. The neighborhood was a good one and a far cry from what she could have afforded alone. I never babied her, but like any parent, I only wanted her to be happy, and safety was always a top priority. It had to be in my line of work.
I was a powerful man—both here in the US and in our home country of Russia. That came with enemies, more than the ordinary successful businessman might have. Many more. So, of course, I couldn’t let her live in some squalid walk-up with no security, even though I’d never be convinced that acting was the right path for her.
She didn’t see it, but I was positive she could do great things in the family business and was sure she’d get the acting bug out of her system after enough rejections. My main worry was that she’d fall in love with an American and completely forget where she came from and who she was.
I spied a coffee shop across the street and grabbed a cup to help steady my nerves. The fact I could hunt down an assassin or drive violent interlopers out of my territories without breaking a sweat, but a surprise visit to my daughter twisted my stomach in knots was something I’d never really understood.
It was rough being a single dad, but I wouldn’t have changed a thing, even though her mother tried to destroy me when she ran out on us when Kristina was only ten.
