Page 84 of Sexting the Boss

The footage plays.

At first, it’s just the usual night traffic—cars pulling in and out, headlights flashing.

Then, movement in the shadows.

A figure, dressed in dark clothing, hood pulled low. He moves with purpose, edging along the side of the building before slipping into an unmarked car.

Oleg freezes the frame, zooms in.

The image is grainy, but the outline of a tattoo peeks out from the man’s wrist.

Something familiar.

Something I haven’t seen in years.

A slow, dangerous heat spreads through me.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

Oleg exhales. “Afraid so.”

I lean forward, my hands braced against the desk.

“Lev Fedorov.”

A name I thought was dead and buried.

A name that should have never resurfaced.

A name that means this is far from over.

I straighten, cracking my knuckles, already knowing what comes next. “Find him.”

Oleg nods. “Already working on it.”

I glance at the security footage one last time, then push away from the desk.

Lev.

Back from the dead.

Lev used to be one of ours.

Until he betrayed us.

I should have had him killed years ago.

Now he’s back, making himself known, sending a message.

And that means trouble is closer than I thought.

Oleg doesn’t move from his desk, his arms crossed, watching me with that look that tells me I’m not going to like what comes next.

I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders, already done with today.

“Out with it,” I say, leaning against the desk. “What else?”

Oleg tilts his head. “You got an invitation.”

---