Page 52 of Sinful Union

I cross to the small bar cart by the window and pour myself a scotch.“You drink?”

“I… yes. Please.”

I pour another into a crystal tumbler and hand her the glass, leaning back against the edge of my desk, arms folded across my chest. “Sip slowly; it’s strong.”

She takes a sip, then another, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. I can sense the booze is already working its magic, putting her at ease.

“Thank you,” she says softly, her gaze flicking up to meet mine for a brief moment before dropping again.

I allow myself to watch her, to gauge her reactions. She’s a little pale, eyes swollen from crying, but there is a backbone under there.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I tell her, “as long as you do your part. I can’t protect you without you giving me something in return. By that, I mean information and cooperation. Understand?”

She nods, swallowing hard. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. Kat said you could help.”

Kat. Always diving head-first into chaos.

“For the moment,” I continue, “you can stay here. Or I can set you up in a hotel out of town, someplace no one would think to look.”

Darya’s mouth forms a flat line. “I don’t like either choice. I have a job. I can’t just vanish, and I know I don’t want to stay here, in this world.”

I shrug. “Then handle your own protection. I’m not assigning a bodyguard to follow you around the city,” I say coldly.

She frowns, looking toward the door like she’s considering running. “You said you’d protect me.”

“And I will, but only if you agree to my terms. You can choose from two options: Stay under my roof or let me hide you elsewhere. If you refuse both, it’s at your own risk.”

She grips the tumbler, knuckles white. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do that. In the meantime—” I pause as footsteps approach outside, a familiar stride. The door opens, and Nikolai steps inside, flicking a glance at Darya before turning his attention to me.

“You said it was urgent, Boss.”

“Indeed.” I wave him closer. “Darya, this is Nikolai, my second-in-command. You can speak freely.”

She eyes Nikolai warily, then takes another sip of her scotch. “You want to know what I know.”

“That’s right.” My gaze drills into her. “Start from the beginning.”

She sets the tumbler on the coffee table, folding her hands in her lap. “I know Piotr hired men to attack those shops a few weeks back. He was bragging about it, proud of how it stirred up so much tension among your people.”

I keep my expression neutral, though inside, annoyance flares. If Piotr orchestrated those attacks, it means he’s far bolder than I gave him credit for.

“Go on,” I quietly urge.

Darya’s voice trembles a bit. “I overheard him on the phone. He thought I’d left, but I had to come back in to get my purse. He was in the study, talking, laughing, and saying how the Fetisov Bratva would bleed.” She grimaces. “He used the name Viktor, but I didn’t hear a last name.”

Nikolai looks at me. My jaw tightens. Hearsay and rumors. That’s all we have. It’s her word against Piotr’s. “Anything else?”

She glances away, chewing her lower lip. “I heard him mention a timeline. Something about needing it to look like your operations were failing. That’s why the shops were targeted—he wanted to make you look weak.”

Nikolai curses under his breath. I drag a hand over my face, anger building within.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have recordings or texts. Piotr’s careful. He doesn’t leave evidence.”

Nikolai steps to my side, his arms folded. “Novikov wants the Fetisov Bratva gone. That’s no secret. If Piotr’s dealing with Viktor—”

I finish the thought. “Then we have a major problem, but we have no evidence aside from Darya’s testimony.”