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Sophia scoffed. “Whoever this Jakob is, I’d be happy to teach him a thing or two.”
“Jakob Webber, head of Spyder Security.” Adrian’s statement dropped with incredulity. “You don’t know about the biggest security tech in California?”
“Oh, him. I may or may not have heard of the guardian angel of corporations.” Sophia shrugged. “Obviously, he’s got a few things to learn.”
“I wish you’d tell him that to his face,” Adrian muttered.
“Tell who what?” Viktor boomed, striding into the room with his curved mouth wide in a smile.
“Some security wannabe called Webber,” Sophia replied as she collected a list from her printer.
“You know damn well who Jakob Webber is, my devilish little sister. Quit pretending you haven’t tried to take him down a notch ever since graduation.” Viktor held out his hand for the papers, which the smirking Sophia was only too happy to hand over. The subject swiftly changed as he let out a long breath. “Wow, this is good, zaika.”
“I know.” She grinned even wider.
“Let’s trace his steps then.” Viktor handed the paper to Adrian, a devious gleam in his eyes.
I shot to my feet. “I’m ready.”
“Ha! Hell no.” Viktor’s brows were near his hairline. “Constantine would scalp me.”
“You’re going, he’s going.” I jabbed a finger at Adrian. “What’s to lose?”
“Um...his woman.” Viktor barked a laugh.
“Claude is dead, and my father doesn’t know. I’m the only one who’s been with them, and while I don’t know all their secrets and hidden lairs, I’m more help with you than not.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but Viktor cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Let her come. She’s proven herself by taking her brother’s life, and she’s also pretty damn resourceful. We’re not going to let anything happen to her.”
I nodded in confirmation, but I had to wonder at the Russian’s swift change of heart.
Chapter 60 – Talia
On the fifth stop,a sick tingle crept down my spine. The warehouse was in a rundown industrial neighborhood, panes of glass cracked or broken. Water damage marred the brick exterior, and weeds and grass desperately fought to take over the abandoned monstrosity. We’d retraced Claude’s steps from the night of the opera and the morning after. I knew without saying it that this was the place Iryna died.
Following instructions from Viktor, my hair was bound tight, medical gloves covering my hands, and I wore pants and a long sleeve shirt so as not to leave any DNA evidence behind—not that a forensic team would scour this building for the Department of Justice. The underworld took care of its own business. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.
