Page 34 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “For you,solnishko, anything.”

10

Damir

Itap my fingers against the dark polished wood of my desk, the steady rhythm matching the ticking of the antique clock on the wall. The morning sun filters through the bulletproof windows of my office as my attention shifts to the door when it opens without a knock. Only one person would dare enter without announcement.

Anton walks in with a slight stiffness, his arm still in a sling from Nikolai’s bullet. Despite his injury, he moves with purpose, his gray eyes sharp and alert. He drops into the chair across from me without ceremony, placing a thick manila folder on the desk between us. “Nikolai’s back,” he says, sliding the file across the table. “Moscow wasn’t just business. Like we figured, he’s rebuilding his empire.”

I stare at the folder for a moment before opening it. Inside are surveillance photos, phone records, and financial statements. Half of Nikolai’s empire should have been mine, but when ourbrotherhood fractured, loyal men had to pick a side. Some left but Anton stayed, which is why Nikolai put a bullet in him.

“He won’t stop until he takes everything,” mutters Anton, adjusting his sling. The fabric rustles against his suit jacket as he shifts in his seat.

“Then we take him out first.” My voice is cold and detached. I flip open the file and scan the next page. Casey’s name jumps out at me, and my fingers freeze on the paper. “And this?”

Anton smirks. “You said you wanted information.”

I lean back in my chair, studying the photos spread before me. They show Casey meeting with Sergei Orlov, one of Nikolai’s top lieutenants. The images are clear, taken at different times at a small diner on the outskirts of the city. In one photo, Casey passes an envelope to Sergei. In another, they’re hunched over documents.

“How long has this been going on?” I ask, my voice steady despite the rage building inside me.

Anton reaches for the file and pulls out a stack of phone records. “First contact we can trace was three years ago.”

Casey isn’t just Elena’s ex, who stole her money. He’s connected to my enemy. I study the records, noting the patterns and frequency. This isn’t new, but is it a coincidence? His time working with Nikolai clearly predates the time he started dating Elena. Wouldn’t it be a delicious irony if Nikolai shooting Anton is what led me to Elena, who has her own score to settle with Nikolai’s man?

“There’s more,” he says, pulling out another set of documents. “We traced some of Elena’s missing inheritance. Portions of it were laundered through Nikolai’s shell companies.”

I look up sharply. “That confirms Casey was working for Nikolai when he met Elena then.” Elena mentioned they’d been together two years, and Casey has been in Nikolai’s employment for at least three.

Anton nods, his expression grim. “Looks that way. We dug deeper into his background.” He pulls out several driver’s licenses with Casey’s face but different names. “He’s done this before. Twice that we know of, and both older women with substantial savings. He dated them, gained their trust, then cleaned them out and disappeared before the police could connect the dots.”

The room seems to grow colder as I process this information. Elena wasn’t randomly targeted. She was chosen by a con artist who had already perfected his routine. “Why Elena?” I ask, though I already suspect the answer.

“Her mother’s inheritance made her a prime target,” says Anton. “Plus, she was young, trusting, and isolated after her mother’s death. Not to mention, it seems his lack of ability to pay one of his gambling debts led him in the ER when she was still a second-year med student. According to his medical records, he reported being mugged, but I’d bet he ran into one of the local parlors’ collectors. That’s probably how she popped up on his radar. Perfect mark, but I don’t think his link to Elena has anything to do with Nikolai ordering him to target her. Strictly speaking, she was of no interest to anyone but a two-bit fraud like Harris before she married you.”

I stand and walk to the window, looking out at the city below. My city. The one Nikolai wants to take from me. “So, the gambling debts are real?”

“Very real. He’s been in deep for years, including to us at one time. That’s probably how Nikolai got his hooks in him initially. Offer to clear the debt in exchange for information or services.”

I turn back to face Anton. “How much did he owe my casino?”

“Ten thousand. Manager cut him off when he couldn’t pay. Three days later, he settled the debt in full. Timing is really interesting…”

“Let me guess, three days after he drained the last of Elena’s account?” I ask, though I’m sure I already know the answer.

Anton nods. “Most of her money went elsewhere—probably to Nikolai—but he kept enough to clear his immediate debts.”

I return to my desk, flipping through more photos. “What else?”

“He’s been living under the radar since he left Elena. Cheap apartment and cash jobs, including some collecting for Nikolai. Nothing that would attract attention.” Anton leans forward, wincing slightly from the movement. “Until recently. Suddenly, he’s been spending more freely again. New clothes and nice restaurants. Something’s changed.”

“Nikolai’s return,” I say.

“Exactly. Probably got promoted to a primary scumbag instead of feeding on the dregs. His spending spree lines up almost perfectly with when we took out Boris.”

I frown, thinking of Boris. When he and his brothers, Sergei and Yuri, first joined us back when I was still working with Nikolai,he had been young and fresh-faced. That innocence didn’t last long in our world. When the fracture came, he and his brothers sided with Nikolai. A few weeks ago, Boris tried to force Anton into a meeting with Nikolai, and Anton had to shoot him.

In the end, Nikolai had found Anton on his own and made him an offer my loyal friend dared to refuse. Knowing Anton, he probably took full credit for killing Boris, the traitor. That move nearly cost him his life when Nikolai retaliated.

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