Page 61 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

Yuri’s eyes widen behind his glasses. “What? No! I would never?—”

“Don’t lie to me,” I growl, cutting him off. “Someone breached our security, and you’re one with the skills to do it without leaving a trace.”

Yuri shakes his head vehemently. “I swear, Mr. Rostova, I haven’t betrayed you. I won’t forget what you did for my nephewwhen he made his…impulsive decision. I’m still working on hacking Petrov’s network, just as you asked.”

I study him for a long moment, searching for any sign of deception. “And how is that going?”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s challenging. Petrov has paranoia-level grade encryptions. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“What is he hiding?” I ask, more to myself than to Yuri.

“I don’t know.” He pushes up his glasses. “Whatever it is, he’s protecting it with everything he’s got.”

I push off the desk, circling around the hacker like a predator. “Keep digging. I want to know everything Petrov is trying to hide, and, Yuri?” I stop behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the contact. “If I find out you’re lying to me, what happened to your nephew will seem like a pleasant memory compared to what I’ll do to you. You won’t be banished, and if you’re sent to Siberia, it’ll be in pieces. Understand?”

He swallows hard, nodding. “I understand, Mr. Rostova. I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t.” I wave my hand dismissively. “You can go.”

As Yuri scurries out of the office, Dmitri approaches me. “Do you believe him?”

I shrug. “For now but keep an eye on him. If he so much as looks at a computer that isn’t directly related to Petrov’s network, I want to know about it.”

Dmitri nods. “And what about Jay? Do you think he might have more information?”

“Possibly,” I say, moving back to my desk. “He’s still recovering, so I’ll give him a few more days before we start asking questions.”

I sink into my chair, my mind whirling with possibilities. If Yuri is telling the truth, then who hacked our systems? And what is Petrov hiding behind those impenetrable firewalls? Maybe it’s nothing that affects me, but I’ve made it my business to know everything about Petrov, and now that he’s crossed the line and threatened Claire, I’m even more determined to learn all his secrets.

22

Claire

Istir my ginger tea, the warm aroma curling around me as I sit in Valerian’s expansive library. The leather chair creaks softly as I shift, trying to focus on the book in my lap. My gaze keeps darting to Valerian, hunched over his desk, brow furrowed in concentration as he works on something for Alexei.

The nausea that’s been plaguing me all week churns in my stomach. I take another sip of tea, hoping it will settle. My mind races, thoughts tumbling over each other like clothes in a dryer. I have to say something about my appointment tomorrow, but the idea of lying to Valerian makes my insides twist even more than the morning sickness.

“I have a gyno appointment tomorrow,” I blurt out, wincing at how abrupt it sounds. “Routine checkup.”

Valerian’s head snaps up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “Do you want me to take you?”

My breath catches in my throat. Panic surges through me, not because he suspects anything, but because his immediate concern reminds me of how much danger we’re in. How much danger I could be putting our potential child in.

“No, it’s fine,” I say quickly, the words tumbling out. “Your men can drive me. I’ll be okay.”

Valerian’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I’d prefer to skip the exam altogether, given the current situation.”

I force a laugh, though it sounds hollow even to my own ears. “Trust me, I’d love to skip it too. Speculums are no fun.”

His expression softens slightly. “I’ll have dinner waiting when you get home.”

“And I’ll give you a massage,” I promise, my voice steadier now.

As silence settles between us again, I realize I haven’t been keeping track of my hours lately. Valerian hasn’t given me a statement in weeks either. The thought of bringing it up now, with everything else swirling in my head, is too much.

I return to my book, but the words blur on the page. My free hand drifts to my stomach, resting there lightly. What am I going to do if the test confirms what the over-the-counter tests showed? How can I bring a child into this world of danger and violence?

“Claire?” Valerian’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Are you feeling alright?”

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