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Immediately the detective’s phone rings.
Back at the elevator, that I’m waiting for again, I narrow my eyes in thought. That guy must be some rich businessman from the city—I wonder what he does to afford such protection and a private hospital wing. I didn’t even know that was an option.
Diving a hand into my bag, I push around my mess, attempting to locate my keys. The ding of the elevator indicates it has arrived and, without scanning the inside, I stalk into the metal box.
“What floor,cara?”
I yelp as I’m startled by yet another man in a suit.Did he call me cara?He is older, his hair peppered with gray, and he is staring at my wrapped wrist. I tuck my right hand behind my bag and hold his stare.
“Ground floor please,” I say as he reaches over to push the GR button and I watch the doors close. What is up with all these men in suits in a hospital at two o’clock in the morning? He must be leaving from a visit. The elevator is stifling and even though my gaze is fixed straight ahead, his eyes pierce into me. A shiver rolls through my body, and I’ve had enough of this sensation today.
Finally, the doors open to the ground floor, and I step out, searching for the double doors that lead to my car. I glance back over my shoulder to find the man putting an unlit cigarette to his mouth and giving me a smirk. Heat licks my cheeks, and I turn to make a beeline toward the parking lot.
Releasing a breath when I reach the haven of my car, I throw open the door to plop onto the seat. My eyes sting, a prickling sensation causing a single tear to drop. I follow it, wincing at the blood stains smeared across my sweater from when I tried to catch the driver. I blow out a deep exhale and shake my head, willing the tears to stop. I’m lucky. It could’ve been much worse. Putting my keys in the ignition, I turn them over and my car sputters to life. I look back over at the hospital and pause.
That man never got out of the elevator.
Chapter3
Luka
Six Months Later
My alarm goes off at 4 a.m. and I untangle myself from my sheets—again—to sit up. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I expel a breath preparing for the day ahead. The city lights are still bright, and I grab my phone to do a quick check of my messages. The only one at this hour is from Ivan, who says he’ll be out front at 5:30. I drag my feet over to my panoramic windows and take in the cityscape—my city. When I bought this building, I told Nik we would be gutting the whole top floor and renovating it. It is the most secure place in the city, second to my office, all while keeping the views. But as much as I love my city, the penthouse is my refuge—the place where I can lose the mask of pakhan. Except for a select few men and Ilena, my housekeeper and cook, I don’t allow anyone in. I won’t let anyone in.
I move to the shower, the pure white tile clashing against my dark features, the water rushing off my skin. I lean my hand on the cool subway pieces and let my head hang, shaking off the stench of my nightmare. Today is going to be a long one.
* * *
“Good morning, Mr. Morozov!”My assistant, Natallia, perks up from behind her computer. “Your coffee and messages are on your desk. Do you want me to call in breakfast for you, sir?”
“No. Get Nik on the phone,” I say in passing as I push through to my office. The rich mahogany desk that once belonged to my father awaits as I dump my suit jacket in the coat closet. Natallia has my coffee already there, doctored to perfection. Grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge, I walk around to my desk as the phone rings.
“What?”
“I have Nikolai on line one, Mr. Morozov.”
I push the button on the phone and take the call. “Nik, where are you?”
I’m the only one who calls him Nik. Growing up together, we watched as our fathers assumed the roles we have now inherited ourselves. As young boys, we witnessed the worst of things together. We weren’t shielded from the brutality in our business, and when I took my place as pakhan two years ago, there was only one man I wanted by my side. Nik.
“At the warehouse, Boss. Five more shipments were delivered. Doing inventory now and then I’ll be at the office.”
“Let Igor do it. You have an hour to get here,” I demand.
While I appreciate him overseeing these large orders, it’s beneath him, and I don’t want to waste resources.
“You got it.” He waits until I click off the call before hanging up. My men know they never hang up before me.
My gaze falls to the built-in bookcases on the far wall. Full of useless books and minimal personal items, only one painting of a Russian landscape sits on my shelf. Other than that, there is no color.
Powering up my dual screens, I log into my email and spend the next hour working through them. An interesting message regarding the reelection of our favorite senator snags my attention and I make a note to discuss this with Nik.
A knock on my door sounds and Natallia enters with Nik following right behind her. Nik winks at her. “Thanks.Spasibo, solnyshko!”Thanks, sunshine.
I narrow my eyes at him while Natallia rolls hers and she exits the room, shutting the door behind her. It’s a common occurrence for me to have to rein Nik in and remind him who he is.
“I need you here, not at the warehouse. Igor can handle it. Don’t waste that time again.”
