Page 60 of Kept By The Agents

Brando sighed. "Dammit," he muttered, then said louder, "yes, we're going to help. Not for him."

"But for his daughter," Cat finished for him. "He's right." Brando turned his head and met her eyes. "You do have a kind heart."

I sat down at the table once more and opened my laptop. Shit was about to hit the fan and I needed to figure out what messages Motya sent me before it did.

CHAPTER 26

Catalina

At first I was avoiding them. They'd dropped a huge bomb on me and I couldn't think with their hungry eyes following every move I made. How was I supposed to analyze this? I knew about polyamory, though this didn't quite fit that description if the guys were to be believed. I would've never guessed that three gorgeous men like them would want to share one woman between them. Who would? With a snap of their fingers they could each probably have their own harem of women surrounding them. But that wasn't what they wanted.

A slow smile lifted my lips. They wanted me. Or so they said. But was I ready for that? Could I deal with three, strong, overbearing men all the time? Without braining them with a frying pan? Not to mention the sex…I'd be icing my pussy down. These were the questions that kept me isolated for the first five days. The next three? That was Brandon's fault and I wasn't happy with him for it.

He threatened to lock me in the bedroom I was sharing with Weaver if I couldn't stay put. Like that was happening. They were meeting with the SVR and the Bratva today. In this house. I wasn't about to miss that conversation. But I was staying put, like a good girl, until the men got here. That way Brandon thought I was obeying. Then, when they were distracted, I was going to sneak out and listen in.

Who could blame me? This information was entirely too juicy to miss. Besides, maybe there was some way for me to help. Now it wasn't just Elena's life on the line. I'd tossed and turned the last few nights thinking about Motya and how scared she must be.

Somehow, though we aren't sure how, she'd managed to send Weaver a message. A cry for help. He was still piecing together the images she'd sent and planned to share them with the men coming today. They knew this area better than us all. Brandon was sure she'd given us clues as to her location, but Weaver was having trouble puzzling them out.

A knock on the door made me sit a little straighter on the bed. As soon as I heard male voices, I crept over to the door and pressed my ear against it. Sighing, I realized I couldn't hear much. It was too muffled. I debated about creeping out now, or waiting a little longer. I decided to wait. They were going to do the polite greeting thing at first, at least I assumed, and once they settled I'd make my move.

It didn't take long for the voices to die down. Grimacing as I slowly turned the door handle, I eased the door open and poked my head out.

"...out of your mind if you think the SVR is going to sanction us working with him," Boykov snapped, glaring at Brandon.

"This goes far beyond your laws, old friend," Matvey said in a low tone. He cocked his head. "Does it not?"

There were six additional men standing in the dining room area and none of them looked thrilled to be here. Except Matvey. He was the only one with something to lose. Everyone was here because of him.

What would it be like to be that kind of person? Where enemies rallied all because you asked it of them? Where you had so much power that different branches of government and law enforcement banded together with you at a whim. He exuded power. Yet I felt nothing. No desire, no thrill, when I looked at him. Not like when my eyes shifted to the three men who claimed they wanted me to be theirs. Seeing Brandon standing there, scowling, made my stomach flutter.

Suave and Weaver were standing back, still and tense as they waited to see what would happen between the three leaders of this group. It wasn't hard to see that Brandon, Boykov, and Matvey were running this show. Everyone else was there as muscle to make sure their respective leader didn't get killed.

"He could help us," Brandon pointed out.

I bellied out of the room, inching along the floor until I was pressed against the railing. Holding my breath as Suave shifted, I prayed he wouldn't look up or he'd see me there. I wanted to hear this. Damn that man and the fact that he could somehow sense when I was near. He looked around, but thankfully not upward, before settling back down again.

Boykov was swearing, shaking his head. "He's a fucking criminal, Brando."

"With a vested interest in the outcome of this," Brandon reminded him. "If he fucks us over, he'll lose his daughter."

"What if he disappears with her while we're busy fighting the Raleka," Boykov asks, glaring at Matvey. The Bratva leader just shot him a wide smile. Nothing seemed to ruffle his feathers.

"Then he, and his men, will be out of the way," Brandon said with a shrug. "Win, win."

No one seemed to care that they were having this conversation in front of the man in question. Matvey didn't seem at all upset that his honor was being called into question, though I was sure it wasn't easy for him to remain so stoic about it. I'd gotten the impression that his word was his bond. He proved that with his next words.

"You know me, Boykov," Matvey cut in. "I give you my word. We will help you take down the Raleka. As long as you help us find Motya."

Boykov sighed, running a large hand over his face. "Damn it. You know if she was safe, I would tell you to pound sand, right?"

"If she was safe, Friend, I wouldn't be here."

Boykov gave Brandon a nod of acceptance.

"Good. Weaver."

Drew stepped forward and sat at the table. Now that the agreement was made, the tension bled from the room. He tapped a few keys and a projection illuminated on the wall. I frowned down at the little black box next to his laptop. Where had they gotten that?

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