Page 192 of Nine Months to Bear
“Here’s fine. I won’t be long.”
Taras shifts behind me. I can feel his tension, his readiness to move. But Mikayla just stands there, hands empty, coat open. Casual.
“So,” I say. “You’re the mole.”
She sighs. “I prefer ‘opportunist.’”
“You’ve been feeding information to Iakov.”
“Among others.” She examines her nails. “You’re not the only game in town, Stefan. Haven’t been for a while.”
“So this is about Olivia?”
“Everything’s about Olivia these days, isn’t it?” She smiles. “She really did a number on you. The great Stefan Safonov, brought low by a woman with mommy issues and a failing business.”
She pulls out her phone and shows me a photo. Olivia in the back of that SUV, handcuffed, scared. “She’s fine, by the way. Comfortable. Confused, but comfortable.”
I close my eyes. She might as well have slugged me in the stomach. “Those weren’t real FBI agents.”
“Smart boy,” she says with a wink. “You’re starting to get it.”
My jaw clenches. “What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted. Security. Profit. A seat at the table when the dust settles.”
“And you think taking Olivia gives you that?”
“I think it gives me options.” She pockets the phone. “See, you have two choices here. You can play nice, step back, let Iakovtake what he thinks he deserves. Or you can fight, and sweet little Olivia pays the price.”
“You’re assuming I care what happens to her.”
“Oh, Stefan.” Mikayla steps closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume. “We both know you care. You care so much it’s eating you alive. It’s why you spared Devon. Why you’ve been soft lately. Why you’re standing here chit-chatting instead of putting a bullet in my head.”
“Maybe I just want information first.”
“Sure, maybe.” She reaches up like she’s going to caress my face. “Or maybe you’re calculating how to get her back without starting a war you can’t win.”
Her hand never makes it to my cheek. I grab her wrist, spin her around, and slam her against the wall. My other hand finds the gun tucked under her coat and tosses it to Taras.
I pat her down, efficient and thorough. Another gun at her ankle. Knife in her boot. A second knife strapped to her thigh.
“Careful, big boy,” she gasps against the wall. “That’s harassment.”
“Sue me.”
I spin her back around, keep her pinned with my body. She’s breathing hard now, but still smiling. “This doesn’t change anything. Olivia’s still gone. You still don’t know where.”
“But you do.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m just the messenger.”
I lean in close, let her feel the weight of me. “You made a mistake coming here.”
“Did I?” She meets my eyes, unafraid. “Kill me and Olivia’s definitely dead. Hurt me and it’s the same result. Keep me here and Iakov will know something’s wrong. Face it, Stefan: For once in your life, you’re not in control.”
She’s right. And wrong. But mostly right, and that burns worse than everything else.
I let go of Mikayla and step back. She straightens her coat and pats down her hair, still smiling that infuriating smile.
