Page 38 of Ruby Mercy

“The best friend isn’t Team Kirill, then?” German settles into the chair across from me. He peeks into my mug and looks longingly towards the coffee pot. “Is there any more of that?”

I slide the mug to him. “I don’t need anyone on my team. This isn’t a competition.”

He grabs the cup and takes a loud slurp. “Except me. You need me on your team. Because I have all the information on—”

“Hold on.” I walk over to the door and peer down the hallway. Natalia is nowhere to be seen. “Hmph. She has a sense of self-preservation after all. Rayne could learn something from her.”

“You think your maid is spying on you?”

“I’m positive she is.” I walk back to the table and flop down. “I thought Rayne sent her, but now I think this might all be Natalia’s idea.”

“What is Natalia’s idea?” German asks, frustrated. “What the hell did I just walk into the middle of?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“You two in a tiff?”

“That would require me to care,” I say. “I don’t give a shit if Natalia likes me. She’s my employee, not my friend.”

German shrugs. “She may not be your friend, but she is Rayne’s. I’m sure Rayne cares if the two of you are squabbling.”

“And who says I care what Rayne thinks, either?”

He takes a sip of coffee and smacks his lips. “Fair enough. You’re right. With the information you asked me to get, I just assumed—”

“I like to know all of the variables. That’s all. Right now, Rayne is an unknown I want to classify.”

German scoffs. “Sounds very scientific. Certainly not emotional in the least. Nuh-uh, no sir, no way.”

I ignore him and hold my hand out for his phone. “What did you find?”

“Precisely what you asked for,” he says, his mouth curling up into a smirk. “I found everything there was to know about Rayne Garner. Where would you like to start?”

13

KIRILL

LATER THAT DAY

She’s stretched onto her toes, arms over her head while she digs in an upper cabinet. Her ass looks incredible in her jeans.

Fuck the uniforms. I should have required Rayne to wear this exact outfit when she worked in my house.

She finds what she’s looking for—a clear plastic container—and walks across the strange kitchen and into a room with no windows.

“Shit,” I curse.

The house Rayne is working at is ninety percent window on the back side. The road I’m parked on is not explicitly listed as private, but considering I’m the only car around and it appears to be a driveway, I think it’s an understood rule. Still, Rayne hasn’t spotted me and I’ve been here for an hour already.

I watched her clean out the refrigerator and wash all of the Tupperware. She swept and mopped. And now, she’s organizing the pantry, or so I assume. Every few minutes, she comes out of the windowless room holding cans and boxes and bags of rice. Then she goes back in with another empty container.

“She works for an accountant and a corporate lawyer, both squeaky clean.” German had feigned a long yawn when he passed along that information. “A sharp change of course after working for a renowned and criminally-inclined asshole such as yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Keep talking,mudak.”

“But yeah, squeaky clean. Steven and Martha Linley are upstanding citizens. Last year, they publicly pledged to donate ten percent of their earnings to reputable local charities.”

“Disgusting.”

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