Page 77 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

“What’s the plan, exactly?” I ask and exhale sharply. “You can’t just hide me away.”

“You’re carrying our unborn child,” Roman replies. “It’s precisely what we’re doing.”

“We’ve got a few good ideas. We know the area better than the Konstantinovs ever will,” Oliver assures me. “We can get you and the twins out of here without Igor picking up on it, but you need to get that evidence for us. The feds will want something concrete against that fucker and we’ll need some solid bargaining chips with his father.”

“We’re covering every base here,” James says. “It’s going to get messy and uncomfortable. The farther away you and my daughters are from what’s about to unravel, the better our chances against the Konstantinovs, whether it’s just Igor or his whole family.”

Lang comes into the living room with his laptop. “We got an update from the sheriff. They’re investigating our agents’ murders. I provided them with all the raw security footage, so they’ve got Igor on camera outside the door, but the mist was too thick. It obscured several key angles, and what little footage we have of him by the gate is grainy. It’s not enough for the DA to charge him with anything except maybe trespassing on private property.”

“That’s not even worth pursuing, dammit,” James says.

“It gets a tad worse,” Lang says with a sigh. “As we suspected, there’s no ID or usable evidence from the hitmen at Candy’s either.”

“I told you they’re ghosts,” I reply, shuddering as I think about the Bratva men who once made me feel safe whenever they were around. “You’re not going to find anything useful.”

“What about the other Konstantinov movements?” Roman asks Lang.

He checks his laptop. “Kara wasn’t spotted by any traffic cams outside of this district. There’s a chance she’s still in town or somewhere nearby.”

“Lev?” James asks.

“Last seen yesterday boarding a private jet in Chicago. Destination unknown.”

“And Andrei?” I cut in. “He’s the youngest of Lev’s children.”

“I believe he was with his father,” Lang says. “Our sources mentioned a young man matching his description among Lev’s companions.”

I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s like the whole Konstantinov clan is on the move now. “What about my brother?” I ask. “Any news on Michael? I haven’t been able to reach him on his phone. I haven’t spoken to him since last week.”

“No sign of him yet. He’d been posting on social media daily, but he went quiet a couple of days ago. I checked the Reddit thread, too, he didn’t post anything there either,” Lang tells me.

“It could be that he’s simply being quiet as a precaution,” James says, trying to reassure me. “Something’s clearly going on within the family, and Mike could be caught in the middle.”

“We need to get him out of there. I don’t think he’s safe anymore,” I say with a trembling voice.

“You don’t know that for sure yet,” Roman replies. “We’ll reach out to our intelligence buddies in Chicago and see if we can get a discreet line on him but, in the meantime, we need to focus on keeping you and our family safe.”

I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Roman’s right: Something doesn’t add up. I want to blame Lev, but I can’t. And Kara… what is she doing here? The more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to think that Kara might be my way back into the family—if only to speak to Lev myself.

It’s risky, but it might help us avoid any bloodshed.

28

Elise

As soon as Tori rolls into town with a fleet of Hummers, I find myself emboldened to push forward with my plan. I’m not entirely comfortable with it but I know I have to do it. I have to give it a try if it means keeping my men and my family safe. They’re doing so much for me; I must do this for them, whether they agree with my decision or not.

“Ready?” James asks as we all meet in the living room.

“Ready,” I say, giving him a weak smile.

Wearing jeans and a brown flannel shirt underneath an oversized dark grey coat, a furry cap on my head, and hiking boots to complete the look, I can easily pass as a Rustic townie.

Tori’s wearing one of my track suits in pale green, a blonde wig, and a camel-colored overcoat. From a few feet away she could easily be perceived as me.

“Nice threads,” she says with a grin as she mockingly models the tracksuit. “It fits you better, though.”

“You’re too sweet,” I reply with a giggle.

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