Page 53 of Sexting the Silverfox

“Nice digs,” I say as I’m unceremoniously shoved into Arkady’s office.

The door slams shut behind me.

I stand in the middle of the room, quiet for a second while my eyes scan the space. Everything is black, an annoyingly clean black. The desk and chairs are stainless steel and thick glass. It wreaks of toxic masculinity.

He sits behind his desk, an evil emperor overlooking his domain.

Sitting on the guest sofa are two large wearing dark grey suits that are a little too small for them and black ties. They look at me with murder in their eyes. I’m guessing these are the guys who taste Arkady’s food and drinks for him, just in case someone thinks about spiking his dinner with polonium.

“Jason Winchester,” Arkady says, half-smiling as he looks at me with ice-cold eyes. A scar on his temple catches my eye. His hair is close-cropped, military style. His skin is pale. He’s bulky enough to intimidate but still looks good in an Armani suit. “I never imagined I’d see you here.”

“Honestly, I never planned on coming here,” I reply with a casual shrug. “But you kind of forced my hand. And it’s time for you and me to have a little chat.”

Arkady gives his men an amused glance, but I don’t bother to pay them any attention. The key here is to exude confidence without appearing as a threat.

“So, what is it you wish to talk about?” Arkady asks me.

“It’s private,” I say, nodding toward his bouncers. “They need to leave.”

He laughs. “You’re audacious, I’ll give you that.”

“I was already searched downstairs. I’m not here to cause trouble, but the information I have is far too sensitive. It’s for your ears only.”

“Entice me,” he says.

“I believe we both share a common enemy. A certain old wolf named Grigori. I know how to take him down.”

And there it is on his face. The sparkle of curiosity. The hunger. The greed that takes over and clouds his otherwise calculated judgment. I’ve struck gold, just like Paddy said I would. Arkady thinks about it for a moment, then gives his men a brief order in Russian. They clearly aren’t happy about it, but still, they oblige and leave the room.

I take a step forward.

“All right, you have my attention, Mr. Winchester.”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Help me, then. Just get on with it already; I have other meetings scheduled for the rest of the day.”

“Very well,” I say as I take out the secondary gun I have in the back of my pants. The guys downstairs were too distracted by the weapon I mentioned and offered to them—they didn’t search for another. The second piece of brilliant advice that Paddy gave me. “So, here’s the deal. I need you to leave Audrey Fedorova alone.”

Arkady’s good humor fades as he stares down the barrel of my 9mm.

“I was wrong. You are not audacious. You are downright stupid,” he mutters.

“Relax, Arkady. I’m not here to kill you, though that would certainly take care of one issue. I really am here to talk, but not just about Grigori.”

“The daughter.”

“That’s right. Stop coming after her. Fight her father and brothers all you want. Kill one another and be done with it, as far as I’m concerned. But leave her out of this. She’s not with them, she will never be with them, and she deserves freedom from what has already been a difficult life as a Fedorov.”

He gives me a wry, overly confident smile. “You love the little rabbit, don’t you?”

I ignore his question. “I’m more than happy to negotiate potentially fruitful business transactions between Winchester Holdings and whatever front you’ve got running in this building. I’m sure my money would be put to good use.”

“You want to buy Audrey’s safety,” Arkady says.

“Either that or I will blow your brains out right here, right now. It’s your choice.”

“Not really a choice, though, is it?”

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