Page 100 of Shadows of Obsession

My cigarette butt lands a few feet away from us, and the only sound is the rain. Communication has been difficult in the last few hours because we've been skirting official channels to avoid alerting the wrong people.

"Come on, Ro," Niko says, and together we head toward my SUV.

For the first time since our father died and left me in charge, there’s a bitter taste in my mouth, and it's not from the tobacco. It's the taste of disappointment, and I don't know how many hours of torture it will take to wash away this feeling.

My phone rings in my pocket, and when I check it, I see a message from Anton confirming the location. I grip the phone tightly and close my eyes for a second, trying to gather the calm I need. I want to make sure I don't kill him too quickly.

"Niko, call Sofia. I want her to have Damien make the transfer within the next hour, like we discussed," I tell him, watching my brother give a short nod, his jaw clenched.

I'm someone who expresses anger through torture, while Niko is more reserved. He's always preferred our legitimate business dealings, favoring clean, well-kept suits over ones stained with blood or other fluids.

He ends the call, and when our eyes meet, I read the pain over what we're about to do, but I can only remind him of what we stand to lose.

"He has eyes in our house, Niko. He has our accounts in his hands. Lev dies today!"

?

The meeting place is an old barn storehouse outside the city where we keep artwork to sell on the black market. Inside, we have top-of-the-line preservation technology to store the art until the pieces reach their final buyers. Currently, we have only three pieces here: Las Meninas by Diego Velázquez—which everyone believes is in Madrid, but the original will go to an oligarch who now owes me a favor—a Renoir, and a Duchamp.

Their delivery is quite urgent, and we've used this opportunity to lure that treacherous bastard from his den. If I go to him, he might have alerts set up, and I can't risk losing his trail.

"How long until he arrives?" I ask Niko as my fists clench involuntarily.

"A few minutes, but...try not to kill him too quickly. We need answers," he tells me, and I glare at him, ready to strangle him too.

As angry as I am, I know when to stop, especially when dealing with someone who's had access to so much information about us. I still have a bitter taste in my mouth, but when I see his car parking out front, all my fury boils to the surface.

Calm, Roman.

This treacherous bastard steps out of a Maserati Alfieri that easily cost 140 thousand dollars of my money. Money I gave him without ever thinking this man would be capable of betraying us. Clearly, this isn't about money. It's personal. I know how much Lev makes working for me, and we're not talking pocket change.

I watch him approach and realize he wouldn't last through an hour of torture. Lev is a thirty-three-year-old man, with an average height of five foot eleven and brown hair worn rather long, hanging down to his shoulders. It's his eyes I focus on. And I notice for the first time how empty they are. I don't know if my mind is playing tricks on me because I know what he's done, but something's missing in his gaze. Something I hadn't noticed until now. Or perhaps I had but preferred to attribute it to how this life damages us all.

"Ro, you know I could have sent someone to fix these. My soul freezes in this weather," he says, and I hear him laugh.

My fingers twitch toward the knife I always carry in my jacket's inner pocket, the temptation to plunge it into his throat nearly irresistible. But that would be too quick a death for him, so I put my mask back on and burst into laughter.

"I don't take chances with security when I have millions of dollars at stake," I say, and he nods seriously.

"Well, let's get to it. Niko, did some girlfriend reject you? You look quite grim," he says, giving him the once-over.

I shoot my brother a look, one I know he understands. Now's not the time for a scene. For him, the betrayal burns more personally than for me. He was the one who proposed we hire Lev in the first place. And I didn't object then. It was a logical decision. The man was talented with computers and security, and we'd known him for years, since high school. He was even Russian like us.

"I think Lorelai refused to stay on her knees," I say with an amused tone and gesture for them to follow me. Lev seems to have forgotten about Niko's frown, but I don't want to take any chances.

I’m waiting for Damien's message confirming he's handled my request. Until then, I need to buy time.

When we reach the cut cameras, I show them to Lev and take a few steps back. I'll strangle him if I get too close.

"Damn amateurs. They always cut with a serrated blade," he complains as he pulls out tools to repair the wires.

In a few minutes, he's fixed the first camera, and I see Niko getting restless. We have four more cameras. There's time.

"Niko, go inside and double-check the shipments with Anton. I don't want any surprises with the Irish again," I tell him, needing him to leave. I can feel his fury seeping through his suit, and if he could breathe fire, he would.

"Fine." That's all he offers before turning and leaving, understanding my message.

When we reach the second camera, Lev stops with the tools in his hand.

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