I consider this for a moment. The thought of having Claire watched more closely doesn’t sit well with me. “No. For now, we maintain our current level of observation, but I want daily reports on her movements and interactions.”
Dmitri nods and turns to leave.
“One more thing,” I call out. He pauses at the door. “Arrange a meeting with our contacts in the D.A.’s office. I want to know exactly what kind of deal they’re offering Jay. We need to make sure he keeps his mouth shut about any Petrov connections.”
“Got it, boss. Anything else?”
I wave him off. “That’s all for now. Keep me updated.”
As the door closes behind Dmitri, I sink back into my chair. The situation with Jay Bennett has become far more complicated than I initially anticipated. The Petrov involvement changes everything.
I pull out my phone, scrolling through recent messages. There’s one from Claire, sent late last night after I was asleep.
“Thank you for the hot chocolate, and for listening. It helped.”
I stare at the message, myriad emotions churning inside me. She’s become an unexpected variable in this equation. One that I’m finding increasingly difficult to ignore. I type out a reply:
“You’re welcome. My door is always open if you need to talk.”
My finger hovers over the send button. Is this wise? Am I letting myself get too close? I delete the message, opting instead for something more neutral.
“Glad I could help. Get some rest.”
I hit send before I can second-guess myself again. Setting the phone aside, I turn my attention back to the matter at hand. The Petrov Syndicate. Jay Bennett. Claire.
I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin as I contemplate the situation. The Petrov Syndicate’s involvement with Jay complicates matters exponentially. If they catch wind of Claire’s arrangement with me, it could put her and her family in grave danger.
My jaw clenches as I imagine Matvey Petrov’s men anywhere near Claire or Bloom House. The thought of her parents, Robert and Linda, caught in the crossfire of this underworld feud makes my blood boil. “Dmitri?” I say loudly.
The door opens, and he enters, his face a mask of professional neutrality. “Yes, boss?”
“I need you to put some men on Bloom House. Discreet observation, round the clock. If anyone so much as looks at that flower shop sideways, I want to know about it.”
Dmitri nods, already pulling out his phone. “Consider it done. Anything else?”
I pause, weighing my next words carefully. “Increase security here at the mansion as well as the penthouse when we’re there. I want Claire protected at all times, whether she’s here or out in the city.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Dmitri’s face before he schools his expression. “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.” He hesitates at the door. “If I may ask... why all the extra precautions for Miss Bennett?”
I narrow my eyes. “Because the Petrovs will be looking for leverage, and I won’t give them the satisfaction.”
Dmitri nods, accepting my explanation without further question. As the door closes behind him, I’m left alone with my thoughts once more.
I rise from my desk, pacing the length of my office. The city sprawls out before me through the windows, a landscape of steel and glass that I’ve spent years conquering. Yet now, all of it seems insignificant compared to keeping one woman safe.
I sift through endless columns of numbers, but the quarterly reports blur before my eyes. My phone sits within reach, its screen dark and silent. Too silent.
“Dammit.” I grab it, thumbing open my messages to Claire.
“Everything okay?”I type, then delete it. Too obvious. Instead, I write:“Checking in.”
Her response comes quickly:“All good. Just finished with a client. Heading to lunch.”
Relief courses through me, but it’s short-lived. I tap my pen against the desk, staring at the financial statements spread before me. The numbers should command my full attention, but all I see is Claire’s face…
My phone buzzes with a longer message from her:“Your security detail is very thorough. Pretty sure they counted how many times I blinked during my sandwich.”
I smile despite myself.“Good. That’s their job.”