Page 120 of Lethal Legacy

“I’m happy here, Papa,” I say quietly. “Happy with the children.”

“Happy,” he rasps, his eyes on me rather more knowing than I might like. “Happy with—Roman.”

“He’s my boss, Papa.” I avoid his eyes.

“Hmm.” He releases my hand. He doesn’t push it, but his silence speaks volumes. We sit for a short time in silence. When he speaks again, Papa’s voice is cracked with exhaustion. “Glad you have—man. Protection.” He nods slowly, his eyes sad. “Keep you—safe.”

I know what he means. I might be safe, at least for now, but Alexei isn’t. And both of us know that so long as the Orlovs have my brother, neither Papa nor I will ever truly know peace.

“We’ll get Alexei back, Papa,” I whisper, gripping his hand again. “I promise you we will.”

He nods, but he doesn’t answer, and the resignation in his eyes hurts me deep inside.

We sit on the terrace and watch the day fade, slowly drinking the rest of the bottle in a silence full of all that we have lost. I stay long after Papa has fallen asleep, tucking the blanket around him and watching the night grow. The city lights reflect off the water beyond. I wonder if my brother is somewhere here in Spain, watching these same lights.

“Alexei,” I whisper to the sultry coastal breeze. “I’ll find you, brother. Somehow I’ll find you and give us back our home.”

The wisteria vine quivers above me, my promise lost to the night.

36

ROMAN

“It’s dangerous.” Dimitry taps his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of the Maybach. We’re in the parking lot of the Russian Cultural Center, amid a milling crowd of costumed children and anxious parents. “If what you say is true, the Orlovs could be anywhere. Today could turn into a goddamn bloodbath, Roman.”

“Which is why every man we’ve got is doing security detail.” My eyes follow Lucia and the children as they step out of the car ahead of us. Luis holds the door open, scanning the crowd cautiously.

There are two other cars, one ahead and one behind us, from which men have already exited and are now discreetly herding my family into the center. Pavel glances at the Maybach, his bearded face anxious. He is made for scanning data, not crowds. And he knows damn well that today’s little excursion is way out of his comfort zone.

But I want him here, just as I want the hidden guns and watching eyes of myvor.I doubt the Orlovs will make a move in broad daylight. But it isn’t just them who worry me.

“Nikolai is coming today,” I tell Dimitry as we exit the car. Lucia is twenty paces away. She’s wearing an understated white linen dress teamed with tan mules. It’s an elegant, simple outfit that nonetheless does nothing to hide the sensual curves of her body.

Christ, I want her.

It took all my self-control not to summon her to the penthouse last night. I managed it partly because I needed to organize security for today and partly because I suspect she faced a very challenging conversation with her father after we left the villa. I’d give quite a lot to know what was said between them, but for now, at least, other problems have superseded my curiosity.

“Why the fuck is Nikolai coming?” Dimitry’s tone is thick with disgust. “Pavel successfully tracked that trojan back to Pillars. Even if he doesn’t know who uploaded it yet, it was certainly done with Nikolai’s permission. That littlemudakneeds to be kept as far away from your family as possible.”

“And if he gets even a hint that I’m keeping him away, our best chance of discovering what he’s actually doing will be gone.”

Dimitry glances curiously at me. “You’re oddly calm for a man facing a possible shoot-out and family betrayal.”

I know I am, and he’s right: it is odd. But since my conversation with Lucia’s father, I’ve been existing in the edgy, expectant vacuum that precedes an eruption. I can feel the storm coming. There are clouds hovering over every aspect of my life: my burgeoning relationships with Lucia, her father, and my godchildren; the trojan virus attacking Mercura; the journalist who has disappeared, seemingly into thin air; and above all, in the news that the Orlovs might be somewhere close.

I’m existing in the stillness before the chaos.

All I can do is watch, wait, and prepare.

I might look calm. Inside, however, I’m like bottled lightning—just waiting for the right time to strike.

“I’m going to join the kids. Keep your phone close.”

Dimitry’s indignant expression makes me grin as I turn toward the center.

Inside the crowded auditorium the noise is deafening. Pavel is off in the corner with Mickey, already deep in conversation. Seeing me come in, Mickey shoots me one of his rare smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. I can’t help but feel rather pleased by that. It’s only been a day, but suddenly the kids don’t seem to see me as enemy number one anymore.

A bawling child runs past me, chased by a harried-looking parent. “How the fuck do teachers do it,” I mutter to Lucia as I catch up with her.

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