Chapter Twelve
Nika found it nearly impossible to just go back to work after her little non-discussion discussion with Maksim. How could he say those things? After everything that had happened, it was impossible to just go back to the way things had been. For what? To keep precious Katrina and Ivan safe? To protect the Petrovs’ mafia interests?
She stuffed a rose in a vase and rearranged the greenery so it wasn’t clumped in between the rose stems. Perhaps now more than ever, she knew that she didn’t want this life. She didn’t want to be a florist. She didn’t have any interest in being with Maksim while pretending not to be so he could continue to bully people around for Ivan’s benefit. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.
“Daughter, surely you must understand.” Papa asked quietly.
She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. Actually I don’t understand at all.”
“The Tretiaks are still trying to focus a police investigation onto Ivan’s business activities.” Her father was actually pleading for Maksim’s illegal activities. Nice.
Nika smiled sweetly at her papa. “Then maybe Ivan should stop breaking the law.”
“And let those Tretiak bastards chase him out of his territory?” Her father’s outrage was bizarre considering his hatred for such things less than three months ago.
“Papa, aren’t you tired of all of this?” She wished she could make him understand. “I feel like I’ve been living under this huge shadow my whole life. We have had men coming in and threatening us for money one day and then cops picking up where the mob left off the next.”
Her father took a breath to say something else, but never got the chance. Four cops burst through the front door of the shop with guns drawn. Papa shouted something, but Nika couldn’t focus on anything other than the guns. The men weren’t aiming for her father. They were pointed directly at her.
“Nika Sokolov!” A short man stepped forward. “Kneel and put your hands behind your back!”
The cop’s nametag read REYNOLDS. It was all she could register before one of the other men grabbed her shoulder and shoved her to the ground. She felt boneless. It was as if all of her muscles had given way.
Papa was shouting in the background. One of the other men grabbed her father’s arm and cranked it behind his back. Papa moaned in pain and collapsed. Two cops pushed him all the way to the floor with his face down. They were laughing. She felt wetness on her cheeks and realized that she was crying.
“Nika Sokolov, you’re under arrest for conspiracy.” Reynolds was still talking.
She couldn’t focus. She could only see her papa fighting to rise. Someone cuffed him in the side of the face. His eyes glazed over and Nika sobbed. Was he dead? Had they killed her papa? Was loyalty to the Petrovs really worth all of this? If her father was loyal, why weren’t they protecting him?
The metal cuffs were cold and harsh against the delicate skin of her wrists. The third cop tightened the cuffs until she could hardly feel her fingers. Her tears began to subside. The only thing left was cold intent. Katrina and Ivan might be useless, but Nika was not.
“Get up, you Petrov whore.” The third man hauled her to her feet.
Nika blinked her wet lashes and memorized the name on his uniform. GARCIA. He obviously had some strong feelings against the Petrovs. When the time came she would remember exactly who was working for the Tretiaks.
“What? No pretty denial?” Reynolds sneered.
“Why?” Nika asked calmly. “Would it matter?”
Reynolds’s face showed momentary surprise before he replaced his look of sarcasm. “Nope.”
“Then let’s just go.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming we have to go to the station for processing or something right?”
Nika tried to make it sound like this was all old news to her even though she’d never been arrested before in her life. Was she actually going to get a rap sheet just because her stupid sister was the Petrovs’s queen bee? Fantastic.
She tried not to stare at her father. He was obviously still conscious, but a little woozy. “Can you at least call emergency services for my papa?” Even as she said the words she knew they would not.
Reynolds scoffed. “Maybe the stupid bastard will remember what happens when you side with the Petrovs.”
“So we’re not even pretending that this is a police matter anymore?” Nika shot back.
She barely had time to flinch before Garcia’s hand caught her across the mouth. Her bottom lip split open and she tasted blood. Okay then. No pretending. She got the idea. Sucking in a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was probably going to be a very long night.
Garcia dragged her out the front door with relish. It wasn’t until they were standing on the sidewalk in front of the police cruiser that she saw Maksim standing about a hundred yards down the sidewalk. Every muscle in his big body was tense. He looked like a beast primed to pounce.
“We’ve got Petrov’s attention,” Garcia told Reynolds. “Think he’ll take the bait?”
Reynolds smirked as he shoved Nika into the backseat of the car. “That dumbass is going to beat us to the station.”
***
It took every ounce of Maksim’s self-control to refrain from charging down the sidewalk and laying waste to all four of those smug Tretiak bastards. Reynolds, Garcia, Krupin, and Volklov were all on the Tretiak payroll. Krupin and Volklov were full-blooded members of the family. Maksim had thought they were neutralized. That had been the purpose of going into hiding. Ivan had promised his contact at Internal Affairs would have this tied up. Now Maksim was watching four Tretiak bastards parade Nika in front of him like the juiciest piece of bait they could find.
He clenched his fists until his nails left marks on his palms. He could not react. Forcing himself to turn around, he headed in the opposite direction. The action killed him inside. He could only hope that Nika knew he would never willingly leave her in that situation. But his girl was strong. In fact, those four might have bitten off more than they could chew.
In the meantime, Maksim was done waiting for Ivan to “take care of things.” If the Petrov kingpin wanted to nitpick later, that was his problem. For now Maksim was done playing second fiddle to a brother that was too busy being in love to run the family business.
Cold logic replaced anger and Maksim knew exactly what he needed to do. Every mafiya member in the business knew that the family accountant was the most valuable person on the payroll, mostly because the accountant was in charge of payroll. Fortunately for the Petrovs, Ivan had been an accounting major in college. He had been the family accountant under their father’s leadership. The Tretiaks weren’t that lucky.
Maksim strode quickly down the street and hung a left. He walked another block and found himself staring at a tall, narrow building with an overgrown courtyard. Two beefy men lounged in the shade. They wouldn’t be expecting a direct approach. Hitting a mafiya family’s accountant was widely considered to be stupidity of the highest order. Maksim figured it was just the prerogative of a desperate man.
Two men, probably armed, and Maksim had the element of surprise. He could already feel the adrenaline saturating his blood by the time he strode into the courtyard.
“Your ass had better turn around and go the other way.” The bigger man stood up, his expression looking as if Maksim had just woken him from a nap.
Without missing a beat, Maksim chopped the man in the throat. He sank to his knees. Gagging and gasping for air, he didn’t put up a fuss when Maksim grabbed his head and slammed the guy’s face against his knee. Guard number one went down and guard number two was already reaching for his weapon.
Maksim snatched at the pistol. His hand connected with the slide and pulled it forward until it came right off the weapon. The second guard’s look of surprise lasted only until Maksim’s fist connected with his nose. With no time to waste, Maksim let the guy drop to the ground.
The building was quiet when Maksim entered. He knew he’d had surprise on his side with the goons outside. He wasn’t likely to get that lucky again. The accountant might very well be waiting with a gun cocked and ready to shoot.
Maksim passed through a kitchen. There was a half-eaten bowl of Rocky Road ice cream on the table. Damn. That meant the accountant had probably seen what happened outside.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Maksim said in a clear tone. “I just want to ask a few questions.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” A reedy voice answered from a room at the back of the house. “I just watched you take out my guards!”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I just want some files on the Tretiaks.” Maksim advanced quietly down the hallway, bracing himself for gunfire. If he had to bleed in order to free Nika, he’d gladly do it.
“I don’t know anyone by that name!”
The lie was so obvious in the quavering voice that Maksim nearly snorted out loud. “Look, why would you protect the idiots? They can’t even protect you.”
There was a long pause. “They pay well?”
“Do they?” Maksim pinpointed the voice. Pressing his back against the wall right outside the doorway, he began to lean around the corner. “I’m not armed, you know. I just want the payroll files for the Tretiaks.”
“Do you have any idea what those crazy fucks will do to me if I let you have that stuff?” The voice jumped about two octaves with the mere thought of the retribution.
Makism considered this. “How about you run?”
“I’m not”—there was a pause—“wait, what? If I run you won’t even know what information you need.”
Maksim leaned a little farther into the room, his scalp itching in anticipation of the shot that could be fired. In fact his whole body vibrated with tension. His eagerness to save Nika was making him incredibly careless. In the old days he would have just killed the guards, the accountant, and anyone else who dared to get in his way. He didn’t want to be that man anymore. He never wanted to see that fear in Nika’s eyes again.
“Just go.” Maksim stepped inside the room. It was obviously an office, a very messy office. “Not even a Tretiak would blame you for running when your guards just got their heads bashed in.”
The accountant looked exactly how Maksim had imagined. Tall and lanky, with thick glasses and dull brown hair. He was every stereotype of a nerd all rolled into one package. Maksim almost laughed at the sight.
The man was edging his way toward an open window. Maksim gave him a droll stare. “I’ll let you use the door if you’d like.”
“No. I’m good.” The accountant bounded toward the window and bailed right through the screen.
Maksim watched in amusement as the guy ran off down the street looking like a scarecrow trying to make a getaway. Then the amusement faded when Maksim glanced around at the mess of files and the open laptop on the desk.
“Fuck,” Maksim snarled. “Hang on, Nika. I’m coming.”