Page 28 of Knocked Up By the Russian

The security cameras followed their movement as they climbed into Adrian's Camaro and drove out. "Have you cracked the password on Boris's burner yet?"

"Yes," his brother muttered, frowning.

"What did you find?"

"Couple of phone calls to different numbers. One on the night he was shot; he must've let them know what was going on before we picked him up. It's hard to tell when the call ended..." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as Ivan frowned. "I'm running the numbers, but I think Boris was on the call when we picked him up. It's possible whoever's sending those packages heard everything that went down."

"Fuck. You're telling me he was tapped," Ivan muttered heavily. If that was the case, then whoever was on the callwould've heard what happened when Amy walked into the room. Would've heard him claim her as his fiancée.

"Yep," his brother sighed, reaching to flick the radio on. Hip-hop blared from the speakers the rest of the way, covering the silence.

They reached Cloud 9 in a few moments, parked the car, and then went inside to find Kostya waiting for them near the bar. The club was thriving, music beating against Ivan's eardrums. Kostya looked like he'd already had a few drinks. He smirked, tipping his vodka toward Ivan. "Look who finally left his bed. Too busy to answer your phone, Vanya?"

"Piss off." Ivan grabbed a barstool near him, signaling for the bartender.

"He was in bed with Amy when I got to his apartment," Adrian snorted, his eyes scanning the dance floor.

"I thought she hated your guts," Kostya chuckled as they ordered their drinks.

Rolling his eyes at their ribbing, Ivan turned to look at what they were monitoring. There was a group of women on the dance floor, and he frowned. "Mind explaining why you both dragged me from my wife's side?"

Adrian waited until the bartender left them. "Four of Cillian's men have been here for the past three hours. Something to do with one of those four over there."

"The women? Who are they?" Ivan questioned, bringing his tumbler of whiskey to his lips for a sip. They all looked around Amy's age, early twenties. Probably still in college.

"Was hoping you'd know that," Kostya muttered, crossing his ankles. "Haven't seen the Irish in months; now they're suddenly everywhere."

"What the hell do you want me here for then?" Ivan frowned. The sun would rise in a couple of hours, and he wanted to be there to wake Amy up when it did.

With a roll of his eyes, Adrian muttered, "You'd think you'd be more grateful, considering I've had to sit looking for clues in your wife's packages. Shut up and drink your whiskey. I want to see what they're doing here."

"Speaking of your wife," Kostya rumbled. "I had a look into that club you messaged me about. It's one of Aleksander Ivonov's places."

The name sounded familiar. Ivan frowned, trying to pick through his memory to figure out where he'd heard it before. Adrian snorted, sliding his empty tumbler across the bar and holding out a finger for another one. "You'd probably remember his wife better. Red-haired cougar, caught sleeping with you a couple of times."

Ivan grimaced. "Katya."

"That's the one," Konstantine snickered, but Adrian's face was still grim.

"Ivonov shot her a couple of months after your affair ended—she was fucking one of the newer members of his security."

"You think that might have something to do with the threats Amy keeps getting?" Ivan frowned, Aleksander had been pissed off when he caught the two of them in bed—but that bad blood was over three years old, and they'd settled their differences during a game of poker. In his defense, he hadn't known Katya was married when he slept with her. He'd made sure to mention that in between a bottle of Lev's favorite shit vodka. Mikhail would've beaten him bloody otherwise, it didn't look good if his lieutenants were fucking Bratva wives.

"I think it's suspicious," his brother answered. "Wanted to find out if you want me to dig into it."

"It wouldn't hurt," Ivan muttered as he settled in to observe the group in their club. He ended up staying for two hours until they left, laughing at something he couldn't hear.

"Drive me back," he told his brother, but Adrian shook his head.

"Get a cab. I'm going to tail them."

"You've got way too much fucking time on your hands," Ivan muttered, already pulling out his cell phone. He didn't argue too much, though. They were all allowed their vices, his was just waiting for him in his bed.

Chapter 13 - Amy

Her arms were curled around a pillow that smelled like Ivan when she woke. In a blink, the memory of last night flickered through her mind. A breath wooshed out of her as she sat up in an empty bed. Amy wasn't sure which was worse: the fact that she'd slept with Ivan fucking Nikolai or that he wasn't there when she looked for him.

It was still dark outside, and when she reached for her cell phone, the time showed it was just after 04:00 in the morning. She stumbled off the bed to see if he was in the living room below, but the cavernous apartment sounded—and felt—empty. She didn't know what to do with that knowledge. Biting her lip, she thought about messaging Zia, but then she'd have to explain her curiosity, and that wasn't about to happen any time soon.

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