Page 4 of Room Nine: For Their Eyes Only

I probably should have consulted them before accepting the job, but you don’t say no to the leader of the most brutal bratva in Brooklyn. In no way was his request posed as a question. I’ve known him for over twenty years, and his audacity still stuns me.

I spent the better half of last night drinking vodka and desperately trying to gather relevant information from an infuriatingly tight-lipped Boris. First, he bullies me into taking the job. Then it’s like pulling teeth to make him relinquish the necessary information.

I understand his concern. He has enemies from here to Russia who would love to find and use Vivienne against him. But he came to us for a reason. Our experience and connections allow us to accomplish what he can’t without sacrificing discretion or urgency.

“I didn’t ask for your opinions on the matter. If I could have said no, I would have told him to go fuck himself. But I’m not taking him on over something like this. This could have gone far worse. That motherfucker could have asked me to kill someone. All he wants is to find Vivienne. We got off easy,” I explain as I pour myself a glass of whiskey to soothe my nerves. My brothers rely on me to make sound decisions, and I hate letting them down. But we had no other option.

“Boris is paying the bills, but we’ll run a tab and bill him at the end. Our involvement must remain untraceable not just to keep the feds off our back but also to keep his daughter safe.” I bark my orders and wait for them to voice more concerns. To my surprise, they don’t.

Always the multitasker, Viktor scribbles notes while he speaks. “Fine. What do we know so far?”

I return to my desk and grab my tablet, tapping my screen until I find the pitiful information I gathered last night. Groaning with exasperation and regret for dragging us into this job, I read the few facts Boris relinquished last night. “Her legal name is Vivienne Elisabeth Volkov but she may be using Vivienne Elisabeth Pinkerton, the name she had for the first year of her life, before Boris heard of her existence. Her original birth certificate didn’t name a father, but Volkov officially amended those documents and she may choose a variation of that name as alias.”

“I have vague memories of Charlotte. She was such a nutcase. Between her and Boris, it’s no wonder this poor girl ran for her life.” Vadim’s snide remark rings true. It couldn’t have been easy growing up with either of them.

I swipe my fingers against the screen and continue. “She’s twenty-two and recently graduated from New York University. She studied marketing and mass communications. Four months ago, she emptied her bank account, deleted her social media, and fucking fell off the face of the earth. This is her most recent photo.” I turn my tablet to face them and reveal the photo that’s held me slightly enraptured since I encountered it late last night. Long dark hair frames her face, big blue eyes pull you in, and Cupid’s bow lips leave you at a loss for words. She’s become a beautiful woman—maybe the loveliest I’ve ever seen.

My brothers’ gazes zoom in, and I can see the avarice in their pale eyes. Viktor steps closer to get a better look, nearly knocking past Vadim as he follows suit. My brothers and I share similar tastes in women, and Vivienne Volkov checks every box.

“This is Vivienne? Holy shit, she’s not a little girl anymore.” Vadim drools, wiping his lip as he ogles her.

“We’re not starting with much. What are her likes and dislikes? Where does he believe she might have gone? Why doesn’t Boris know more about his own daughter? That’s despicable.” Viktor licks his lips and wrenches the tablet from my hands. “How old is she again?”

“She’s twenty-two, dickhead,” Vadim responds with insincere judgment. He runs a hand through his auburn hair and focuses on her photo, his pupils so enlarged, his blue eyes look black. “That makes her fifteen years younger than me, eighteen years younger than you, and half Andrei’s age. Besides, her father would string us up by our nuts if we touched his princess. He’s probably lying and has an arranged marriage waiting for her when we bring her in.”

I shake my head and tap on the screen, simultaneously disappointing them by removing the object of their fascination. “Boris doesn’t plan on arranging either of his children, but he fears Charlotte might have convinced Vivienne those were his plans. He just wants evidence she’s safe and a channel of communication. We don’t have to return her to New York.”

“And you trust him? You don’t think he’ll drag her back once we find her?” Vadim quirks an eyebrow.

“Boris is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.” I shift my gaze to the computer monitor occupying a third of my desk and open a new case file. We have an important job, but it’s not the only thing on our plate. I can delegate a few cases to our employees, but a few need to remain with the three of us. “Who wants to finish off the Donovan case? I need to devote my attention to Vivienne for the rest of the day.”

“You keep Donovan. You’re nearly done with that job and diverting attention to get us up to speed with only delay its completion. I’ll dive deeper into Vivienne.” Vadim’s emotionless voice is a dead giveaway. He wants to appear disinterested, but I see right through him.

Viktor punches his arm and grumbles through clenched teeth. “Fat chance. This is my specialty. I’ll investigate Vivienne. You take the Westenra file for me, and I bet I’ll find her before the end of the day.”

Vadim’s passive expression transforms into an angry scowl. He closes the distance between them and bumps his chest into Viktor’s. “How the hell did you determine this perceived specialty? You and I do the exact same thing every day.”

Accustomed to being questioned by our younger brother, Viktor pushes back. Hackles rise, and fists clench, escalating much faster than I anticipated.

“Cut it out, dickheads.” I shoot out of my chair and hold my palms out, instantly annoyed that they’re fighting over a woman as off-limits as Vivienne. “I said I’ll look into this. If I need your help, I’ll ask you for it.”

They stop bickering and turn to face me, two sets of eyes narrowed in anger. “You? Why you? Don’t pretend you’re as tech-savvy as us.” Vadim tries to shame me. He’s seven years younger than me and loves making me feel like an old man.

“Because I said so.” I lay down the law and expect immediate compliance. A stern gaze generally works, but I can tell by their expressions that I’ve failed to convince them.

“Are you hoarding her for yourself?” Viktor’s accusation makes my blood boil. It’s bold. Insubordinate. And absolutely accurate. But I'm forced to relent since I have no right to look and no compelling reason to keep her to myself.

“Of course not,” I lie. “Take your best shots. The sooner we find her, the quicker we can close this case and get Volkov off our backs.”

“Good.” Vadim’s wicked grin gives me pause.

“Perfect.” Victor smirks but schools his features to disguise his enthusiasm.

A cold chill runs down my spine, and a sudden pang of regret fills my heart. But I shake those thoughts away and return to work, feeling confident in my ability to find Vivienne first.

In the end, this is just a job.

Chapter4

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