Page 55 of Beyond the Temptation: Vol 2

“Mik..?

I hold up my hand, the harsh, stiff movement leaving no room for interpretation. Backing out of the portal, I return to Minx’s chat and type the words hammering in my heart.

Why is there a photo of Zasha Gaheris on a human trafficking site?

Minx’s rapid response is seething with rage.

So, the rat bastard is alive after all.

I’m sure my actions have forced her into hiding as well, but she’s well trained in diversion and invisibility. Plus, I know how to sew this wound.

I will explain everything and double your fee. Just answer the question.

I wait, my control slipping, and then…

Whoever ordered the hit got plugged into your little rescue mission and leveled up. She’s on a Romanian auction block. Starting bid is one hundred million.

Exiting the chat, I slam my laptop closed and shove it into my backpack.

I rise from my chair and storm across the kitchen. “Go to bed, Zasha.”

She falls in step behind me. “Are we not going to talk about?—?”

“I said go to bed!” The force of my words bounce off the walls and settle in the cathedral-style ceiling.

Zasha stumbles backward, her eyes widening at my outburst. I want to take her in my arms and apologize. Instead, I charge across the living room, fling the front door open, then slam it closed behind me. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I press another memorized number sequence.

One I haven’t dialed in over two decades.

My pace turns manic as a throaty chuckle fills the line. “Good to see some things never change, boyevik.”

Even after all this time, the hypnotic cadence of her voice still straightens my spine. Of course, that could be because she answered using an old Russian term of affection when I’m calling from a burner phone with no fucking caller ID.

“Likewise,” I mutter, keeping my tone flat. “No boundaries, as usual, Oksana.”

I’m being generous. Oksana Karpova is as respected in business as she is feared. However, I won’t push the issue. Once you’ve sold your enemy’s soul to the Devil, you don’t question her methods in claiming it, or it might be yours she comes for instead.

“I need a favor.”

She chuckles. “My best men always do.”

Ignoring the jab, I stare out at the night sky as I lay my freedom at her bloodstained feet. “I need to find out who put a price on Zasha Gaheris’s head.”

“Why? Nikolai is a big boy. Let him choke on his own dick for whatever he has done to cause this.”

“That is just it. I do not think this is personal. I think someone is paying Ava back for dismantling the Eastern European ring.” I drag in a breath, hating how my chest rattles. “The hit has changed to a sale. I found her picture on a Romanian auction site.”

“Emotions will be the death of you, boyevik,” she chastises with an annoyed sigh.

“She is innocent.”

“No one is.” The challenge hangs in the air like a dagger. “You know that better than most, so where is this coming from?”

“Depends on what you believe in. I would say divine intervention, but we both know the only thing you loathe more than organized religion is a human trafficker,” I clip, my hold on my temper wearing thin. “So do not fuck with me, Oksana. I know you have the connections to give me the information I need.”

“Perhaps,” she muses. “However, I will require payment.”

“Of course.”

---