Page 5 of Sinful Embers

Tumbling into oblivion a terrifying names spills into the darkness with me:The Iceman.

Chapter 2

RADOMIR

The faint glow from my laptop casts eerie shadows across the desk. It’s a cold, lonely light that matches the knot in my stomach as I sift through endless search results for Ice Man Industries. Every click brings up the same polished corporate front: a global cold food distribution company led by Wanda Manning. Her rise as CEO came after her father was killed, and shortly after, she married a Russian oligarch. Innocuous enough on the surface, but the mention of a Russian oligarch connected to Wanda, gnaws at me like a bad itch I can’t scratch.

Could the oligarch be the Ice Man? If so, what the fuck does he want with Leigh? Or my family? How is Carlos involved in this tangled mess? My thoughts churn, spiraling deeper into questions I can’t answer. And then there’s Nikolas. I’m not even sure I should be trusting him, and I’ve just let him help in our investigations because Sabrina vouched for him—but trust is a fragile thing in my world, especially at this moment in time.

My eyes drift to where Nikolas is hunched over Dolph’s laptop, his sharp gaze scanning the hotel’s security footage. Hehasn’t said much in the last few hours, but his focus is razor-sharp. Still, I can’t help the doubt curling in my gut.

“Why did you arrive at the penthouse when you did? It was right after Leigh was taken. That seems a little convenient.” My eyes narrow as I watch him intently.

Nikolas doesn’t glance up. “I got an SOS from Leigh. She said she was in trouble and needed help.”

His voice is flat, almost robotic, but there’s a weight to his words that makes me believe him. For now. “Do you know Wanda Manning, the CEO of Ice Man Industries?” I ask, leaning forward. “She’s from London, like you. Don’t all high-society types over there mingle, and know each other?”

“I didn’t mix in those circles,” he replies without looking away from the screen. “My circle was more military.”

Of course it was! That explains a whole lot of things, like his frightening calm under pressure.

I press further. “Can you ask your mother if she knows Wanda?” I tilt my head. “She is like a Greek God in your circles, right?”

“No, I can’t ask my mother.” He finally glances at me, his expression hard. “Why don’t you ask your mother? Galina grew up in Europe. If Wanda’s around her age, they might’ve crossed paths.”

I study him, narrowing my eyes, ignoring his suggestion to ask my mother—I’m not going to involve her just yet. “Why can’t you ask your mother?”

Nikolas leans back, his face darkening. “Because she thinks Carlos is me. And that I killed my father, uncle, and two cousins.”

The bluntness of his words slams into me like a punch. “Oh, fuck.” I pause, absorbing the weight of what he’s just said. “And did you? Kill them?”

“No.” His tone is sharp as he shakes his head, fixing me with a cold glare. “Carlos did.”

I don’t bother hiding my skepticism. “If your own mother believes you killed them, how do you expect me to believe that Carlos killed them? Maybe him taking Leigh is revenge for you pinning the murders on him?”

Without a word, Nikolas rolls up his sleeve, exposing a patch of scarred flesh. It’s a grotesque, puckered reminder of a fire that left its mark long after the flames died. “My body is covered in more of this,” he says evenly. “And I’ve got a bullet scar near my heart.”

My chest tightens as the image of it forms in my mind. “What happened?”

“My cousin Carlos was supposed to meet us at the Matriarch head office boardroom to discuss him coming back to the family after a… let’s just say a long absence over a dispute.” Nikolas’s voice lowers, his tone steady but weighted with something darker.

“But Carlos had other plans for the meeting. He literally came in there with guns blazing—a fucking mini Uzi, to be exact.” Nikolas pauses, running a hand through his pepper-streaked black hair. “He walked in and said, ‘I’m not interested in a reconciliation,’ then opened fire on us. He shot my father and his.”

Radomir narrows his eyes. “Jesus. What the hell kind of family meeting was this?”

“A deadly one.” Nikolas reacts to the comment, his voice growing colder as he continues, “I managed to pull my other cousin, Carlos’s identical twin brother, Costa Junior, to safety. Luckily, the Uzi jammed, giving me just enough time to act.” He exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. “I was about to make my move, but Carlos took flight.”

His hands grip the edge of the desk as he leans forward. “Costa Junior and I gave chase, desperate to catch him, before he could escape. But we weren’t thinking straight—we drove right into a trap. Costa was shot through the brain, and I took a bullet near my heart. The car crashed into a wall, and I woke up in a burning wreck, my flesh on fire.”

The details churn in my gut. “Jesus. Carlos did that? What the fuck was the dispute that kept him from the family about?”

“He was always a troubled person. But I don’t know if Carlos was the one who’d set the trap,” Nikolas admits, his voice bitter. “But he was working with a Russian syndicate at the time. Could’ve been him—or one of them.”

“Russian?” I repeat, the word triggering a cascade of thoughts. “One of my family’s enemies, perhaps? That might explain why they’d target us.”

“There are plenty of reasons why Carlos, and if he’s still with that syndicate, might target your family,” Nikolas says, his tone sharp. “The biggest one being that your mother controls Leigh’s access to her inheritance.”

My pulse spikes, my mind racing to connect the pieces. “So my mother knows Carlos?”

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