Page 30 of Vengeful Embers

“You brought me here because I asked the wrong question. Because I got too close.”

“I brought you here to protect you,” the general says at last.

I let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t need your protection.”

“You think you don’t,” he says, folding his hands over the folder. “But you’ve stumbled into something larger than your vendetta with the Mirochins or your secret project to rebuild the Dragunov Legacy.”

My brows shoot up. “I can assure you, general, whatever it is, I can take care of myself.”

“Not if you’re going to continue looking into Leonid Zorin or his connection to my wife,” the general says.

“Is that a threat, General?” I look at him challengingly.

“Not from me,” he replies.

“Trust me, I can handle the RMSAD and the military,” I assure him.

“If you continue pursuing this,” the general warns, “the Russian Military, government, and even the RMSAD will be the least of your worries, and I suggest you start sleeping with one eye open.”

10

RUSLAN

“Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on then?” I ask.

The general flips the folder in front of him open and pulls out a photo.

He slides it toward me.

My hand freezes halfway to the table.

It’s Tara and me outside the Blue Diamond Lounge. Her arm is linked through mine as I’m walking her toward the elevators.

“You’ve had me followed,” I say, voice low.

“We didn’t have to follow you,” he replies. “This arrived anonymously by email about two weeks ago.”

“How well do you know the woman you’re with?” the general asks me.

“We met that night,” I answer honestly. Although I did technically meet Tara when I nearly ran her down in the street.

“Did you target her that night?”

Fuck! “I saw a beautiful woman sitting on her own who had obviously been stood up, and I approached her.”

“It was just a coincidence you were staying in the same hotel?” The general says.

The door opens again.

My eyes widened in surprise when a woman of average height, slender, and beautiful walks in. She’s dressed in the same black uniform with a red stripe on her arm. The circle around the number four stands out like a burn.

Lavender clings to her skin as she approaches and walks over to the general, handing some papers over to him. She’s the one who took my keys.

The general takes his time scanning the page.

“Petra?” I greet her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Hello, Ruslan,” Petra says smoothly. “I could ask you the same thing… uh, wait. I don’t have to.” She pulls my phone from her pocket and wiggles it in the air.

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