Page 50 of The Pakhan

No longer since I’d dared take a huge bite of forbidden fruit. Not once but twice.

Then I’d shut her down like a real asshole.

“It’s none of your concern.”

Aleksander leaned in. “I am your friend last time I checked.”

“Let’s just say one of my computer guys called early this morning. It would seem someone has been attempting to hack into my systems.”

“You’re thinking Stefano is responsible?”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t jump to any conclusions about anything at this point.

“By the way. You look haggard, which won’t bode well for you attending the soirée tonight.”

I remained quiet. It was the last thing I wanted to do at this point. Not after what had occurred between us.

“Oh, for the love of fuck. You are going to the governor’s ball. Yes?” he demanded.

As the waiter brought our steaks, I wasn’t entirely certain I had an appetite. “Yeah, I’m going. Against my better judgment.”

He twirled his plate around and grabbed his knife and fork. “You’re already completely embroiled in a risky chess game. Purchasing Armenian stocks?”

I cut a bite of filet, enjoying the rich flavor for a few seconds. At least the chef knew how to grill a decent steak. “You know better than I do that the art of playing any game is catching your opponents off guard. They threatened one of my employees and the new construction site. I can’t allow that to happen.”

He took a bite of his steak, chewing thoughtfully. “So you’re determined to corrode their livelihood.”

“Something like that.” The Armenians had always tried to hide behind a veil of legitimacy, owning smaller companies, bakeries, and restaurants throughout New York. To anyone smart enough to know the game, they would realize coming in under the radar was nothing more than a technique they’d adopted when immigrating to New York from their home country.

It made laundering money easier. I’d found it fascinating that the FBI had yet to find any concrete evidence on them, even though they were as brutal as syndicates came.

“First the Italians. Now the Armenians. You’re taking what I said to heart. I’m glad to see that except I don’t want you to get yourself killed.”

I scooped up a forkful of garlic mashed potatoes, trying to concentrate on my lunch. It was interesting that my thoughts drifted back to Caroline every other minute or so. It didn’t make any rational sense.

“Has she recovered from the attack?” he asked.

“As much as a girl can whose never been through a near kidnapping.”

“You think that’s what they were trying to do?”

“I do.”

“And you’re certain your daughter wasn’t the target?”

I laughed softly, cutting another bite of steak. “She flew into town early. I told no one. The likelihood my enemies were checking the airport is slim to nil.”

“Understood. They will try again.”

“Stay in your lane, my friend. I’m very well aware of that. Given two of the fuckers got away, Stefano now knows she’s become my property.”

“Property. See. You like this girl. You never talk about anyone like that.”

“So what if I do? It doesn’t change the facts. She’s off limits.”

Aleksander sat back in his seat, eyeing me carefully as he swirled his drink glass back and forth on the table. “Says who?”

“Well, my daughter for one. Plus, the girl is two decades younger than I am.”

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