Page 110 of Arranged Control
I let that sink in slowly. “Why would your father set aside millions of dollars in an account named after his assassin ex-wife?”
“Probably because he’s a pathetic, lovesick piece of shit. Now that bitch has a thick bankroll and who knows what she’s going to do with it.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
“I’m not. Because they fucked up. My father registered the account and the company to a specific address in the city. One I’ve never seen before. And I’m going there right now.”
My eyes go wide. “Wait a second. You can’t go alone.”
“I have backup with me. Don’t worry. I’m not stupid. But I have a feeling it’s a safe house, one only my father and that bitch knew about, until right now. I’m guessing she’s there right now.”
“Taras. Don’t be dumb. We have to take this slow. Make sure we get her. Wait a few minutes, let me gather some people?—”
“Too late for that. I’m already pulling up.” He says something in Russian in the background. “Tell my sister not to worry. As usual, I’m fixing everything.”
“Taras!”
He hangs up. The line goes dead. I try calling back, but he sends me straight to voicemail.
Fuck. Motherfucking fuck. He’s going to get himself killed. If he’s right and Molchanie is at this house, there’s no way he’s going to actually catch her.
She’s way too good for that.
But no part of me thinks he actually caught her unaware.
A text comes through from Taras. It’s an address on the edge of the city in a bad neighborhood.If you want to come clean up after me.
I grab my gun from the nightstand and sprint downstairs. Alina’s cleaning the dishes, humming to herself, buds in her ears. She wiggles her hips a little, and I stare at her, panicked and torn.
I can’t leave her here. I don’t trust Molchanie. The house might be some sort of distraction. I can’t put that past her. But I also won’t call anyone else to come watch her. They won’t get here in time.
Fuck!
“Alina,” I say, pulling her away from the sink. She looks surprised as she takes out the buds. “It’s your brother. He’s in trouble.”
Her eyes go wide. “Is he hurt?”
“Not yet, but we have to hurry. I’ll tell you what’s going on in the car.”
“Okay, let’s go.” She dries off her hands, and I feel a sudden stab of something sharp and deep inside my chest. It’s a longing, a brutal desire to hide her away and keep her safe like she’s something precious. I’m so damn impressed she doesn’t bother asking more questions, only gets herself ready and trusts me enough to storm out the door.
“No matter what happens, you’re staying in the car. Do you understand?”
“Seamus—”
“I mean it. I’m only bringing you because I can’t leave you here alone. Swear to me, Alina.”
She reluctantly nods. “I’ll stay in the car.”
“Then we’d better hurry. Your stupid fucking brother’s about to get himself killed.”
Chapter 37
Seamus
The house is a narrow brick rowhome standing without any neighbors midway down a crumbling block. This part of the Bronx looks like it was forgotten by the city a long time ago. Like civilization is trying to pull away, leaving only rough concrete behind.
Another car’s parked out front. It’s a nice BMW, but it’s empty. No sign of Taras or any of his guys. We left the apartment ten minutes ago and drove like psychopaths to get here this fast, but it looks like we were already too late.
