Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
The last part has nothing to do with luck. I had one of my investigators look into Agent Michaels’ past for something I could use against him. It took a while to find something on the over-zealous agent, and for a while I thought I might actually have to kill the mudak for fucking with my life. But once I got my hands on the information, I knew I wouldn’t have to waste a bullet.
I made sure the damning evidence made it to the director’s office and waited for the fall out.
Fallout achieved.
Michaels was fired.
You fuck with me and my girl and I will take you down.
I look down at the piece of paper in my hand. “This is what she told Agent Michaels?”
“Word for word,” Olivia replies.
My jaw tightens as I read Brooke’s words.
Lev was nothing but a gentleman during our time together, and I have no knowledge of any criminal behavior that you claim he orchestrates.
She didn’t betray me.
I re-read the statement before handing it to Feliks.
“We heard Agent Michaels claimed he had an informant in the bratva. Do you know who it is?” I ask.
Olivia shakes her head. “There isn’t one. It was another one of his lies. Michaels fabricated the claim when the director questioned the solidity of the case he was building.”
Fuck.
“You have some loyal people in your camp, Mr. Zarkov. You’re a lucky man. Loyalty can be hard to come by nowadays.”
I give her a curt nod, because right now, I’m not sure I even fucking deserve Brooke’s loyalty.
Feliks releases a slow whistle. “Well, damn. She was telling the truth.”
“Thank you,” I say to Olivia. “You went out on a limb, and I won’t forget it.”
“No, you won’t. Because you’ll be sending me those dinner details.”
I resist a smile. “You have my word.”
I like this woman. She’s a bit of a ballbreaker. She would be an asset in the Zarkov camp.
“Well, gentlemen, I need to get back to the office,” she says.
“Thank you,” I say to her.
She nods and walks away.
“I owe you one,” Feliks calls out after her, but she doesn’t look back as she leaves the seclusion of the tunnel and disappears into the sunlight.
“God, why didn’t I call her?” Feliks asks.
“Because you’re an asshole,” I reply.
He turns and presses Brooke’s statement into my chest. “Yeah, seems there’s a lot of that going around.”
Feliks is right. I am a fucking asshole.
I pushed Brooke away because of this.
What the fuck have I done?
40
LEV
I’m angry at myself.
No, I’m fucking furious at myself.
Brooke told me she didn’t tell the FBI anything, and I didn’t believe her. If I’m really honest, I didn’t want to believe her, because believing her would require me to trust her, and I have a hard time doing that.
Trust people and you give them the chance to hurt you. I learned that lesson early, and it’s done a good job of keeping me alive.
Not that Brooke is a threat to my life. Just that wild, beating mass of muscle and blood vessels pounding in the middle of my chest. It was easier to build a wall around it when I thought she had betrayed me than it was to let her in, and for the first time in my life, I took the easy option.
Dammit, I’ve made a fucking mess of this.
“You know this is going to require some serious groveling,” says Feliks as he drives.
He’s right. I’m going to have to think of something pretty special to make it up to her. And something tells me that my little bunny isn’t going to make it easy on me. And she shouldn’t. I’ve been a fucking ass.
Deciding to send her a text, I pull out my phone, but it starts ringing. It’s an unknown number. My shoulders go tense. A burner phone. In my world, they mean trouble.
I answer it, and I don’t recognize the voice on the other end because it’s been distorted. “You want to find Vlad, then come to the corner of Eagle and Albion in Brooklyn.”
Two seconds after the caller hangs up, my phone beeps with a message. He has sent me a picture of Vlad. He’s sitting in a chair. And he is very, very dead.
Feliks spins the car around and takes off in the direction of the address the mysterious caller gave us.
“It could be a trap,” he warns.
“It probably is, but I’ll organize some men to meet us there.”
It takes us twelve minutes to get there. The address is an old canning factory on the waterfront that’s been abandoned for years. Some developer bought it but hasn’t done anything with it yet.
We should wait for my men to get there before we go in, but they are still five minutes away, and I’m an impatient fuck, so we enter the building and make our way through the empty factory.