Grant

“Don’t forget dinner tomorrow night,” his mother reminded as he sent her and Val out the door. Grant stood there until they pulled away in the Bentley, their security details following behind them. He closed the door and went to the kitchen to assist Blaire in cleaning up.

She had loaded almost everything in the dishwasher. Looking up, she grinned at him. “I love your industrial-sized equipment.”

Grant smirked. “Thank you.”

“Is it always innuendo with you?” she laughed.

“I think my mom’s to blame for that,” he said in a mock-pained tone.

Blaire laughed harder. “Your mom is incorrigible. I like her.”

“Yeah, she’s all right,” he replied deadpan before pulling her away from the remaining dirty dishes to steal a kiss. When he was finished, he kept his lips by her forehead. “Sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“The ambush. I knew you were uncomfortable with the senate race talk.”

“I’m more concerned that I’m a liability right now.”

“I’m getting tired of that argument,” Grant snapped as a spike of anger shot through him.

“There’s nothing to argue,” Blaire leaned against the counter. Grant was getting more pissed because her face was serene. “Because …” she linked her hand with his. “I’m tired of that argument as well. It’s the truth, but it’s not fair that you’re the only one fighting for us. Whether there’s a chance of us making it or not, I’m taking it. I’ll fight for us, Grant.”

His anger evaporated as he dragged her into his arms, her body pressed to his. “Damn straight you are,” he growled and snatched her lips in his. He loved her tiny gasps. They seemed to have a direct line to his dick which hardened in no time behind his sweatpants.

Blaire tried to retreat, whispering his name on a giggle. He chased her mouth and recaptured it, kissing her like they were the only two people in the world. Shit, he wanted to take her right there in the kitchen.

A clearing of the throat sounded behind them.

He’d forgotten Jake was waiting for him in the office. Grant released Blaire who immediately returned her attention to the dishes. He turned to face Jake who was staring at Blaire with an expression that Grant was sure he didn’t like on his head of security.

“I will be with you in a minute,” Grant said with a curt nod.

Jake lifted his chin in acknowledgment and gave Blaire’s back one last look before leaving the kitchen.

“Why don’t you leave that for later and join us in the office,” Grant told her.

“This won’t take long,” Blaire said, glancing at the path where Jake disappeared. “I think you and your security team need a moment alone.

“You’re right,” Grant agreed. “But if you don’t show up in ten minutes, I’m coming to get you.”

With that statement, he left the kitchen to confront Jake. His security lead and Tyler were already in the office. Grant didn’t bother closing the door, because he had nothing to say to them that he didn’t want Blaire to hear.

“Let’s make one thing clear, Donovan,” Grant gritted through his teeth. “I catch you looking at my woman that way again, like she is some threat to be eliminated, you can find yourself another job.”

The stubborn set of Jake’s jaw reflected the man’s struggle to hold back. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Grant growled. “This isn’t the military. Say what you have to say to me now, because if you say anything that would upset Blaire, I’ll fucking kick your ass.”

“She’s entangled with Russian Organized Crime,” Jake said.

“So, we’re dealing with the Russian mob,” Grant stated matter-of-factly.

Jake nodded. “I can’t believe she’d put you and your family in danger like that. That they sent someone after you last night meant they’re desperate.”

“I pursued her,” Grant said dryly. “She wanted to stay out of the public eye but I was a jackass. After going through the trouble of forging those documents so she can remain safely in hiding, you think she’s just going to ‘fess up to a man who can complicate her safety?” Not expecting an answer, he continued, “What do we know of the men killed last night?”

“The ones who attacked you in the alley and the one killed in the motel are part of a Russian street gang here in Boston. Not directly a part of the ROC, but they do business together. Thug muscle and intimidation are part of it.”

“Update on security in the brownstone?”

“We’re upgrading the motion sensors around the perimeter as well as the fifteen-foot fence, adding trip wires where needed. They’re installing surveillance cameras to all street traffic as we speak. We’ll be increasing personnel from three to six and adding hourly foot patrols. Interviews scheduled for this afternoon.”

“And you think the brownstone is the safest for Blaire?”

Donovan inclined his head. “It’s in the city. Boston PD has a five to seven minutes response time to provide immediate backup. It’s the only property you have that has a panic room and an armory.”

A movement at the door caught Grant’s attention. “Blaire, come in.”

To his benefit, Jake kept his expression neutral.

Blaire rubbed her hands nervously. Grant extended his arm and pulled her into an embrace. She kissed his cheek and extricated herself from his hold. His brows furrowed as she moved away from him, clasping her biceps as she hugged herself.

“I need to face you all when I tell you my story,” Blaire said quietly. She looked at Jake. “Have you looked at the flash drives?”

Jake nodded. “We’ve decrypted some of them, but I figured they’re mostly the same.”

Blaire exhaled deeply and looked at Grant. “My real name is Paulina Antonova. My father was Maxim Antonov. He was the cleaner for the Russian Mob.”

“Cleaner?” Grant brows drew together. “He’s the mob’s hitman?”

“The ROC has a couple of assassins. My Papa was usually called to sanitize a crime scene or, if there was no time, he planted evidence to mislead the authorities.”

“You said ‘was’.” He picked up on the loaded word.

“He’s dead,” Blaire stated flatly. “He took the blame when I killed the Vor’s son, Yuri Orlov. I did it in self-defense.”

Red hazed his vision for he knew in his gut why Blaire killed the boss’s son, but he kept his rage in check so she could get over this difficult part.

“He wanted me to be his wife and, when I said no, he tried to force himself on me. He thought if he got me pregnant, I would have no choice. He already had one of my friends killed because he thought he was my lover. As loyal as Papa was to Mikhail Orlov, he loved me more. He also knew Yuri was unstable. It pained him to start gathering evidence against the Bratva, but it was the only way he could get us out.”

“The cleaner of the mob is one of its most trusted members,” Grant murmured. “I can see why Orlov wants his pound of flesh.”

“That’s where Liam Watts, formerly known as DEA Agent Lucas Myers, comes in, right?” Jake asked, opening the folder he had with him. Grant walked over to his desk and picked up a similar binder.

She nodded. “Liam Watts was supposed to be Papa’s alias. When I killed Yuri …” Blaire’s face turned red, her eyes filled with tears. “Yuri broke into my apartment in Miami. There was a struggle but I managed to stab him in the ribs. His death wasn’t quick, but the wound was fatal. I called Papa. I didn’t know then that he was working with the DEA. He arrived with one of Orlov’s henchman and I thought …” Blaire inhaled on a sob. “I thought he chose the Orlov Bratva. My hurt was so deep, I couldn’t cry—I didn’t even say good-bye to him—I just looked at the ground and accepted my fate that I was going to die by Orlov’s hand.” Tears were streaming down Blaire’s cheeks.

“Do you want to do this some other time, Angel?” Grant asked.

She shook her head and expelled a ragged breath. “I was in shock. I had just killed a man and my father gave me up to the ROC. It wasn’t until I noticed we were driving out of Miami that I wondered what was going on. Was the Bratva’s soldier going to kill me and dump my body somewhere?”

“It was Liam, wasn’t it?” Jake interjected.

“Yes,” Blaire confirmed. “He’d been undercover with the Orlov Bratva for three years at that point. His expertise lies in determining who can be turned. It didn’t take him long to work on Papa, what with Yuri’s interest in me.”

“Why do you still have all the evidence?” Grant asked.

“Killing Yuri messed up the DEA’s plans. There was no evidence that could be used to prosecute Mikhail Orlov, only his inner circle … especially his assassins. Liam’s boss reneged on his deal with Papa. Liam got pissed. A few days later, his boss and Liam’s entire team were found dead.”

“I heard about that,” Grant said. The news was about three years ago. DEA agents were found in a shallow grave in Ciudad Juarez.

“I can shed light on that,” Jake interjected. He handed Blaire a file. “Appendix B. Liam’s team had been working in Mexico at that time. It appeared the ROC made a deal with the cartel to have them assassinated in exchange for more business. How about your father, Blaire? Are you certain he’s dead? There was no record of his body.”

Grant wanted to smack Jake for his insensitivity. His head of security was nothing but thorough and speculations were just that until physical evidence was presented.

“I think she’s answered enough,” he growled.

“No, it’s okay,” Blaire whispered. Her eyes turned glassy again. She had just stopped crying, dammit. Grant glared at his security guy who flinched. “You have to understand, Jake, we’re talking about Florida. The swamps were used to get rid of bodies.”

At that moment, Grant would take pleasure in dropping his head of security in a goddamn swamp.

“Did you ever help your father clean up—”

“That’s enough,” Grant barked.

“Mr. Thorne—”

“I won’t have her incriminating herself without a lawyer,” he cut Jake off. “There are certainly more details to be sifted through, but let’s focus on the issue at hand—the ROC has put a hit on Blaire and Liam because they don’t want the contents of the flash drive revealed and Orlov wants revenge for his son. That’s all they’re after, right, Blaire? Did you or Liam take anything else from them?”

There was hesitancy on Blaire’s face before she shook her head.

Alarm ghosted over his instincts, but he ignored it for now, not wanting to upset the tenuous bond they were trying to re-forge. He turned to Jake. “Find out about the ROC, what their weaknesses are, who their business associates are. I’ve got billions at my disposal—use it.”

“I want to point something out,” Blaire spoke up. “We’re not simply talking bodyguards here, Grant. They were able to trace your phone last night.”

“I figured that,” Grant said, motioning to Tyler. “We’re upgrading our phone’s security with the highest encrypted channels.”

“You’ll also have to review cyber security at your company.” Blaire chewed her bottom lip. “ROC is dealing with drugs, game fixing, and prostitution, but they’re increasingly employing hackers to hold company data hostage. They’re only going after small businesses for now, for protection money, a way to fund some of the gangs who are also their distributors.” Blaire shook her head from side to side as if weary and defeated. “The more I think about it, the more I wished I was back in my cabin in Colorado.”

Grant glanced at her sharply. “Don’t turn chicken shit on me now, baby.”

For some reason, his woman smiled at his provocation.

“Mr. Thorne, as much as we want to keep everything under wraps, Ms. Callahan’s past with the ROC may, in some way, affect security for the senator. We need to alert his men about what’s going on.”

“I know, Donovan,” Grant looked at Blaire and held out his hand. “Come here, Angel.”

When her hand curled into his, he gave it a tug to bring her close. “Should I call you Paulina?”

She grinned. “No, I’m used to Blaire. Liam and I agreed to use our new identities. The process the DEA used was similar to witness protection.”

Grant pressed a kiss against her temple. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this.”

“I trust you,” she said, smiling up at him.

A twinge of unease pricked his chest. On this, he would agree with Donovan—he couldn’t procrastinate in informing his father about Blaire’s association to the Russian mafia. It would be selfish and dangerous should he delay.

It could be deadly.