Page 8 of Corrupted Guilt

I knew there weren’t any cameras under the tree canopy. One of the very few spots on this entire compound where neither audio nor video was recorded. An oversight that I would take care of one day.

“Is that what you want to ask me about?”

“No, just curious,” he answers. He doesn’t argue with me, I’ve trained that out of him for the most part. “Why did you call it off? You changed your mind at the last minute?”

“Viktor changed his mind at the last minute. Katya is staying, and he’s marrying her off to some Petya Antipov. I’m reassessing, I’ll try to talk him out of it, but in the meantime, do we know anything about this Petya and what Viktor owes him?”

“I don’t recognize the name, and I know everyone worth knowing,” Maxim tells me. “An up-and-comer? I’ll find out his deal.”

“Good.”

“This would be easier if you just told us your entire plan, instead of bits and pieces,” Anton remarks.

I smirk at him. “It’s a need-to-know basis and you know everything you need to know right now. Be patient, I’m not intentionally keeping things from you, you’ll know everything in time.”

“When?”

“When I want to tell you.”

He shakes his head, irritated. “At least tell us about Katya under the willow tree. Details.”

I raise both my eyebrows. “Not on your fucking life.”No fucking way. The thought of what happened makes me grin. “I’m still processing but she’s far more …interestingthan I thought.”

“I’ll bet. Another need-to-know basis, I guess. Okay so we investigate this Petya guy? What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“You are meeting with Viktor now?”

“Yes. I’ll let you know when we’re back on.”

I found Viktor in his study, across from Katya’s bedroom, seated at a huge walnut banker’s desk. Viktor was eating fries with his fingers from a paper plate. He was wearing a gray flannel suit with camel hair overcoat thrown over the back of his chair. He had a spot of grease on his double-chin. He looked tired. Tall and fleshy, he had a large pink face, a small nose, and a pouty little mouth. His short dull-blond hair was impeccably trimmed.

He rose and hugged me, clapping me on the back, then he took my hands and looked deep into my eyes. “How is Katya taking it?”

“She tried to escape out her window – I caught her, but she’s stubborn, and this won’t be her last attempt.”

“She has too much of me in her. I lost my cool tonight.” He spoke. “I just don’t think she’d be safe out of the house. I can’t lose her like I did Dmitry.”

“Safety can be arranged. Put a team on her. I think you should let her go. Send a security detail with her.””

“No, she won’t go for that. She wants to look normal. One person would be best. I have so few men I trust to take care of her,” he looked at me. “I need you, Yuri.”

“Me?”Fuck no.That spoils my plans for you. “I’ve got too much to do here to leave. Finding Dmitry’s killer, protecting you, now I must investigate this Petya Antipov guy, too. It’s just not the right time.”

“That’s what I thought too, but it’s never the right time for changes. Rest assured, Yuri that I will do everything in my power to bring Dmitry’s killer to justice. And when I do find them, you will be second in line, behind only me. Again, Katya is the priority now, my only living child. The dead can wait.”

“With all due respect, boss, I don’t think this is the right job for me. Katya isn’t exactly in any danger. And she’s only a few cities over. Surely you have someone else who’s more suited for this detail.”

“I understand. You think this job is below you. And it is. Your talents are far more useful to me here, but she is my only child. I cannot lose her. There were several attempts on her life in the past few years. I will get the details to you.” He smiled gently.

Nothing can surprise me, not even the ever-changing whims of this senile old man.

I’ll adapt.

There was no way of getting out of this without looking suspicious. Immediately my mind began to race. Anton andMaxim would still be here, still be able to monitor the situation here and give me updates.

“Anything for you,” I said with a smile. “When do I start?”

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