Page 60 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

The twenty-minute drive to Bloom House feels like an eternity. Every red light is an agony, and every slow driver is an obstacle between me and Claire’s safety. When I finally pull up in front of the flower shop, I spot her immediately through the window, arranging a bouquet of lilies.

I’m out of the car in seconds, striding toward the door. The bell chimes as I enter, and Claire looks up, her eyes widening at something she must see in my expression.

“Valerian,” she says, setting down the flowers. “What’s wrong?”

I cross the shop in three long strides, pulling her into my arms. She stiffens for a moment, then relaxes against me. I breathe in the scent of her hair, allowing myself this brief moment of comfort before the storm that’s coming.

“We need to go,” I murmur against her hair. “Now.”

She pulls back, searching my face. “You’re scaring me. What’s happening?”

I cup her face in my hands, brushing my thumb down her cheek. “I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now, we need to leave. It’s not safe here.”

She nods slowly, trust warring with fear in her eyes. “Okay. Let me just grab my purse and tell my mom?—”

“No time,” I say, already guiding her toward the door. “I’ll have someone call her. We need to go now.”

As we step outside, I see my security team pulling up in black SUVs. Half of them will stay here to keep her parents safe, and the rest will accompany us back to the mansion. It’s more defensible than the penthouse. I usher Claire into the passenger seat of my car, then turn to address the team leader.

“Secure the shop,” I order. “Make sure her family is safe. I want round-the-clock surveillance on this place and their home. Understood?”

The man nods sharply. “Yes, sir.”

I slide into the driver’s seat, glancing at Claire. She’s pale, and her hands are clasped tightly in her lap. As I start the engine, she turns to me. “Please Tell me what’s going on.”

I inhale and exhale, struggling to sound calm. “The Petrov Syndicate has been watching us. They know about you, about us. They’re going to try to use you against me.”

Claire’s sharp intake of breath is the only sound for a long moment. Then, quietly, she asks, “What are we going to do?”

I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re going to keep you safe,” I say firmly. “And then I’m going to make them regret ever threatening what’s mine.”

As we speed toward the mansion, cold fury settles over me. The Petrovs have made a grave mistake. They think Claire is my weakness, but they’re wrong. She’s my strength, and they’re about to learn just how dangerous that makes me.

Once we’re home, I get Claire settled at the mansion, leaving her on a phone call with her mother as she tries to explain what she can and soothe Linda’s fears. I don’t go far, just to my office in the mansion, but leave the door open so I can see her on the couch.

I’m staring at her while pacing when Dmitri strides in, his face a mask of controlled anger. He’s carrying a thick folder, which he drops on my desk with a heavy thud. “We have a problem,” he says, looking tense and sounding furious.

I drop into my chair, studying him. “What kind of problem?”

He opens the folder, spreading out several printouts of security camera footage. “There are gaps in our surveillance. Sections of footage missing during the most likely timeframe when that photo of you and Claire was taken.”

I scan the documents. Sure enough, there are clear time jumps in the footage, sometimes lasting several minutes. They sent one picture but have likely obtained at least an hour or two of footage of our private lives over the course of their violation. “Someone hacked our system to take the photos?”

“I’d say the photos were taken with a telephoto lens, so someone was physically on the property, but the missing footage has only one explanation…” Dmitri nods grimly. “It had to be a hacker deleting it. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. They left no trace, and no digital fingerprints. I’ve personally vetted the team tasked with electronic surveillance here on the estate, and there’s no way any of them were turned to do this.”

I drum my fingers on the desk, willing to accept Dmitri’s words about our people. He takes security very seriously. There’s onlyone person I know with that level of skill, who doesn’t already work for me. “Yuri,” I mutter.

“Kastaneva?” Dmitri raises an eyebrow. “I thought he was working for us, digging into Petrov’s network?”

“He was supposed to be indirectly, though he pretends to be neutral.” I stand, pacing behind my desk. “Set up a meeting with him. Now.”

Dmitri pulls out his phone, stepping away to make the call. I turn to the window, staring out at the skyline without really seeing it. If Yuri has betrayed me, the consequences will be severe, but first, I need answers.

An hour later, Yuri Kastaneva is escorted into my office. He’s a small man with thinning hair and thick glasses, looking more like an accountant than one of the most skilled hackers in the criminal underworld.

“Mr. Rostova,” he says, his voice wavering slightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I gesture for him to sit, then lean against the front of my desk, looming over him. “You tell me, Yuri. Have you been hacking my systems for Petrov?”

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