Page 7 of Disguised as Love

I jerked back, hitting my head against the doorframe, but the thought wouldn’t disappear.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Her voice was a breathy whisper, and I risked looking down again, only to see the anguish from before still blazing in them, but now it was layered with a heady dose of fear.

“You fainted.”

Her breath was still erratic, and if she didn’t get control, she was going to faint again. I knelt so we were face-to-face while leaving plenty of space between us. I needed her to calm down before I was forced to do mouth-to-mouth. My mind winced at the thought, but my body liked the idea way too damn much.

“Take some long, deep breaths, and let them out slow,” I commanded.

She inhaled slowly, and her struggle to gain control did as big a number on me as her body in my arms had. As big a number as her pink lips a millimeter away from mine. I stood, slammed the door shut, and jogged around to the driver’s side. I needed to get my shit together—and fast.

When I got in, she was unlatching the belt, and I stopped her, covering her hand with mine. I could easily fit two or even three of hers inside my palm.

“Let me go,” she demanded, chin raising as she grasped the locket again.

“I can’t.”

Her fear flickered away only to be replaced with anger.

“You really are kidnapping me?” she hissed.

“I’m just escorting you to your father’s funeral.”

I started the car and went to put it into drive when her words halted me.

“I can’t go to Russia.”

I shot her a glance, surprise pulsing through me for the second or third time in less than twenty-four hours. My thoughts whirled. Maybe everything I’d read was wrong. Maybe there was no love lost between the father and daughter. Maybe her fainting had been from relief and not grief, but I didn’t think so. The pain in her eyes had been too real. Too raw.

She flung her head back against the seat.

“If I go, I’ll never get out. That’s what Papa said. There are too many parties interested in what I do. Too much money to be made both from my work as well as stopping me.”

Gennady’s demand that I bring her to Russia suddenly made more sense, just like the bodyguard at her door. When she’d first come to the U.S., she’d barely had any security because no one would have dared touch her. Everyone knew hell would rain down on anyone who even looked at Petya Leskov’s daughter. But now, if she represented millions?billions?from new technology, greed would overcome the fear. The one thing I knew about the Russian mafiya was that money was all that mattered to them. They would never have enough of it.

“He made me promise,” she said, eyes closing. “Made me promise I wouldn’t go back for any reason. Any.” She battled her emotions before continuing, “I knew what he meant.”

“He was being targeted?” I asked.

She shook her head, opening her eyes to meet mine. “No…maybe…I don’t know now.”

My phone vibrated, and I reached for it, hoping I wasn’t going to have to explain another delay to Gennady. It was my FBI phone with Nolan’s code name and more encrypted text that hit me in the gut.

NOLAN: My CIA friend says there are whispers Malik offed the old man.

I banged out a quick response.

ME: How sure are they?

He replied using more names hidden in gibberish that only he and I would understand. Names we’d come up with for key players in the multiple crime syndicates we’d battled over the years.

NOLAN: Fifty-fifty. As Yano’s working with Malik, it seems a likely play. It’s the same thing Yano tried to do with Mori. Taking over by getting rid of the old guard and replacing it with the new. The other half say Volkov got tired of Leskov’s inability to rein in his son, so it could have been a warning.

ME: Ito-san still on them?

Not even my superiors knew Ito-san was on the Leskov’s trail in St. Petersburg. Nolan hadn’t been thrilled when I’d brought her on board, and he wasn’t a fan of keeping her a secret. But I knew what management would say. They wouldn’t want a woman hungry for revenge anywhere near this investigation.

NOLAN: You know she is. Dog with a bone.

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