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I’m met with a desperate silence. Heads bob frantically. Satisfied, I snap my fingers and signal over two of my men. “Take out the trash. I’m sure Sergey doesn’t appreciate us contaminating his floors with that traitor’s blood.”
Sergey looks as though the cleanliness of his floors is the very last thing on his mind. The color still hasn’t returned to his face.
“The launch will take place soon. I need everything to go smoothly.”
“Of c-course, sir.”
“Bane Corp. exists to protect the movements of this Bratva. Without my façade as a respectable CEO, I can’t run my empire or protect the people under its wings. You understand that, don’t you, Sergey?”
He dips his chin so low that he’s in danger of snapping his neck. “Yes, sir.”
“One mole is forgivable, but a second would raise questions about your competency to pick your own personnel.”
“Pakhan, I swear—”
I hold up my hand to shut him down. “I’m not interested in excuses. I want fuckingresults. Now, get back to work and get this drug back on track. We’re running up against the clock here.”
Sergey nods once more, then disappears into the chemical storage room on the right. I chuckle—he’d rather be cooped up with cyanide than with me.
Good choice.
Kirill watches Sergey’s clumsy lope until the poor bastard is gone. “Do you think he’s up to the challenge?”
“He better be. I don’t have the patience for any more delays.”
“Patience has never been high on your list of virtues, brother.”
Smirking, Kirill and I head out of the lab, shedding our protective lab coats along the way. More lab rats part like the Red Sea as we step aboveground, into the belly of the sprawling facility I purchased to birth this drug into the world. It cost me a pretty penny, but this investment is about to earn us a colossal return—ifwe can perfect Venera before its launch date a few weeks from now.
“I want eyes in that lab twenty-four-seven,” I instruct Kirill. “I want every single chemist on this project to be monitored around the clock. Disloyalty won’t be tolerated.”
Kirill starts tapping at the screen on his phone. “Got it, boss. I’ll get a team on them ASAP.”
I frown when I notice the voicemail alert on my screen. It’s a name that really pisses me off.What the fuck does she want at this hour?
“Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds,” I mutter. “Fuck me.”
“Something wrong?”
“I may need to get myself a new assistant.”
“What for? You have a great one. And, added bonus, she’s easy on the eyes.”
Kirill may have a point—I just don’t like the fact that he’s made it.
Correction: I don’t like the fact that he’snoticedher in order to make it.
In my mind’s eye, I see a flash of her as she was this morning. Not her usual put-together self, but another version entirely. Nervous, flustered, unkempt. I keep seeing the shoulder of her bra strap, the way her breast peeked out of the cup just enough to give me an eyeful of cleavage.
It was unprofessional. Lazy. Annoying. Distracting.
Andtempting.
Way too fucking tempting.
“She’s been dropping the ball recently.”
“Enough said. Just give her a good tongue lashing and she’ll pick that ball right back up.”
