Page 12 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

All valid points that I’d already investigated. I’d made the rounds, checked every shop, and dug my way into every leaseagreement within five blocks of the corner where he dropped Annie.

No results. In a city the size of Chicago, I’d have better luck searching for a female orange tabby stray cat with one eye than a woman with such a common name as Annie.

“Thank you for your time.” I tossed money on the table to pay for our food and coffee and stood. The nearly empty shop had given us privacy and decent brew. It was not their fault I’d spent weeks searching for Annie with no luck.

Growling an incoherent string of curses under my breath, I slammed out of the shop and back into the Chicago streets. Heat rolled off my body in waves, my fists opening and closing as I worked to control the anger building to a fever pitch. “Save it for Kent.” The reminder of my upcoming meeting with the slime who thought he could undercut Viktor fisted my hands yet again.

I turned on my heel and marched toward my car. Another dead end in the search for Annie left me furious, with no outlet for the anger. I slipped behind the wheel and checked my phone. I knew better than to keep any kind of list or incriminating evidence on my phone, so I’d resorted to an old code Viktor, Fyodor, and I created when we were young. Everything I’d gathered about Annie jumped out at me with a scroll of my thumb. No last name since we never asked the girls to add that to their forms. No address. No occupation. And from what I’d discovered these two weeks, she was not in any of our circles. Nothing even remotely related to the Bratva. And I’d looked, using my considerable pull as Viktor’s enforcer. No one knew her, had ever heard of her, or knew anyone who might have.

Fuck this city. I glared up at the impressive skyline and flipped my middle finger at the nearest skyscraper. “You have failed me, Chicago. You are on the shit list to end all shit lists.” A horn blared behind me, followed by a burst of rapid curses that brought out a smile. I cranked the car and joinedthe line of traffic creeping along the street. Walking was faster, but impressions mattered more. Especially when dealing with a weasel like Miles Kent.

An hour later, with anger still thick and hot in my veins after spending the entire drive working out my next move in the search for Annie and coming up blank, I pulled into the covered garage at Signature Concrete and parked beside Kent’s Mercedes. The silver car shone with an impressive level of care. Too bad the man did not care so much about himself that he kept up his payments.

I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders on my way across the dingy lot with its grease-stained ground and walked straight across the lobby to the receptionist's desk. She gulped at the sight of me, a persona I leaned into when I palmed the edge of the desk with both hands. “I have a meeting with Mr. Kent.” I rasped out the words, making it clear I would not wait.

“Mr. Kent is in the middle of a meeting.” Blue eyes widened, her face paling. “I’m sorry. Please. He’ll fire me.”

“No, he won’t.” I winked at her and pushed back from the desk. “He would not dare. You see, we already have a scheduled time, and Mr. Kent would not dare have a conflict of interests when it comes to today’s visit.” I strolled past her, ignored her spluttered excuses, and jammed the elevator button with one finger.

Two security guards approached, one from either side.

I held up a card showing Viktor’s name blocked out in thick, black script. “Do not even consider it, Gentlemen. Your boss knows better.”

They looked at the card, then at me, and backed away. “Sorry, Mr. Ilya.” Ah, so my name preceded me. Excellent.

I nodded my thanks and stepped into the elevator. Kent liked to work on the top floor, the spacious rooms inflating his ego. He knew to expect me, and I would not put it past the oily man to tryand dart out of the building when he knew of my arrival. I hoped he did. After all the frustration I’d endured searching for Annie, I needed a little something to take the edge off. My knuckles popped when I flexed my fingers. I grinned at the sound, holding the ferocious smile as the doors opened to reveal a vast space covered in blue carpet. Windows took up one entire wall with a second receptionist's desk tucked out of the way in an attempt to be inconspicuous despite the twin doors that were closed behind her. Behind those doors, Kent waited.

I could almost smell his fear from here. I breathed it in, waggled my fingers at the brunette behind the desk, and heaved open both doors. “Kent.”

His head snapped up at the sound of my voice.

I’d not bothered tempering the growl. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our meeting.”

He stood so fast he kicked his chair, sending the leather and chrome monstrosity careening into the windows behind his desk. It hit with a thud and rolled sideways. “Mr. Svenkov.” Kent smoothed both hands down his white hair and flashed teeth so brilliantly white they were obviously professionally whitened. Why? Did he think it made him more intimidating? All I saw was a weaselly little man trying to back out of his deal with Viktor. The three-piece suit stretched taut over his middle, the once firm man having gone flabby in the last few years as success tended to do to men like him. No discipline.

Kent adjusted his tie, working it from side to side with the motions of a man choking. “I didn’t expect you so soon?” Tie secured, he dragged his chair back into place and dropped into it with a false sense of nonchalance. He motioned at the chair across from him. “Please, sit.”

“You’re late on your payments.” I crossed my arms and remained standing. I knew how imposing my height and size were and used both to my advantage as I towered over him. Evenif he bothered to stand, he had nothing of importance that could possibly cause any form of intimidation. “You have borrowed much money from the Bratva. Payments must be made. On time, yes?” I drilled him with a hard look. “You would not forgive others should they slight your company in such a way.”

“Mr. Svenkov,” Kent tried again, his voice finally finding a smooth rhythm. Another smile appeared, this one calm enough that it likely fooled most people. “I apologize for the trouble. You see, we’ve had some supply issues.”

“Not my problem. Not Viktor’s problem.” I shrugged. “You borrow money. You pay money back.” I clipped my words and leaned over the desk, allowing my thick Russian accent to turn the words vicious and demanding. “You pay money backon timeor bad things happen.” My intimidation tactics alone worked on most people, which was why Viktor sent me on these missions. When I wasn’t protecting Viktor, I served as a reminder of what happened when someone slighted my Pakhan. Brute force had its merits. I knew when to use it, when toimplythatI’d use it, and when to take a delicate approach.

Kent needed the full steam-roller, pay or die side of my personality, and I was happy to provide a service to Viktor. A plane drifted across the skyline behind Kent, a tiny speck of nothing in the broad sweep of sky. I concentrated on Kent, but my mind wandered.

“There is nothing I can do.” Kent splayed his hands open, a wry twist to his lips. “I am not in charge of supply issues. If jobs are delayed by business, that’s out of my hands…” He trailed off with a light laugh. “I’m sure Viktor understands.”

“He understands you are not paying back the money you promised. Supply is not your problem, you say? I have a solution for you.” I hooked my fingers in his lapel and pulled him halfway across the desk. “Make it your problem. Your business is only as good as the man behind this desk. If you cannot run it, perhapsViktor should take it from you and find someone who can do the job.”

It was not above Viktor’s influence to do exactly that, and it would not be the first time I’d removed an incompetent man from his standing.

“There’s no need for that.” Kent waved his hands back and forth, his pasty face paled to match his teeth.

He should worry less about whitening his teeth and more about ensuring his competence.

A thump sounded from next door, followed by a low, masculine voice speaking in a cajoling tone. I cocked my head toward the conversation. Kent rarely shared his office space. Was I in danger of an attack? I tightened my grip on his lapels. “Viktor demands a promise of payment, a sizeable sum deposited today to ensure his continued goodwill.”

“I… that’s not possible.” He started to choke when my hands tightened further.

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