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deal with is having Phoenix anywhere near Nancy.

Phoenix coos against me. I wrap him up in my arms and pull him close. He settles his cheek against my breast and I feel my warmth intermingle with his.

“It’s okay, little bird,” I whisper to him. “I’m getting you out of here. We’re getting out.”

The moment I see sunlight, we’re gone.

27

Artem

TWO WEEKS LATER—A SAFEHOUSE NEAR LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

“I hope you get what you want.”

Sinead’s parting words to me still stick like a thorn in my head, needling in so deep that the only way to remove it, is to… find an answer.

I’ve been back in LA for almost two weeks now. I’ve gotten back in contact with all the men still loyal to me. We’ve established a safehouse on the very outskirts of the city.

It’s not as large a contingent as I would have liked. But it’ll have to do. I’m hoping my ranks will swell in the coming days.

Either way, the new safe house is secure and I’m able to operate under Budimir’s radar.

For now.

I’ve got eyes on my uncle, but he’s well-protected. So well-protected in fact, that it makes me wonder just what he’s so fucking scared of.

If he believes I’m really dead, what else does he fear?

The answer is an easy one: everybody.

He’s unsure of the alliances he’s built.

He’s uneasy about his current position, his stolen power.

You better be scared, motherfucker. You’re standing on quicksand. Living on stolen time.

And sooner or later, it will all come to a very sudden end.

Adrik walks into the room that functions as my office space.

“Don,” he says formally. “Got some new reports for you.”

“Any news from Alexei?”

“Not yet,” Adrik replies. “He’s established a contact with the Ratmir gang though.”

“Good.” I shake my head. Lately, I’ve had to focus really fucking hard to get anything done. My head is swimming with so much shit that it’s tough to concentrate on the task at hand.

“I hope you get what you want.”

I’m on the cusp of getting what I want. I’m actively working towards it, anyway.

And yet… it isn’t as fulfilling as I would have thought.

Because it’s not the only thing you want.

Fuck.

“Boss?”

I raise my eyebrows and look at Adrik. “Sorry,” I say. “Repeat that last bit.”

“We had eyes on Budimir coming out of the Four Seasons this morning,” he tells me. “He didn’t look happy.”

“Another alliance gone south,” I infer. “We can’t get complacent, though.”

“No, sir. And also, Svetlana is here,” he tells me.

“Perfect,” I say. “Send her in.”

Adrik backs out of the room, but he keeps the door open wide enough for a tall, curvy brunette to walk in.

The last time I saw Svetlana was probably about two years ago, at her father’s funeral. A funeral that Budimir had not attended, if I remember correctly.

But my father and I had gone.

She is just as beautiful as I remember. A striking woman, full of pride. Her eyes are large and winged with black liner that accentuates their upward tilt and brings the bright green of her irises into full focus.

Her dark hair is a mess of subtle waves that falls over her shoulders. Her makeup is subtle, only nude lipstick and the faintest hint of blush finishes off her look.

She’s wearing a black silk, wrap-around dress that hugs her shapely figure and shows just the right amount of cleavage.

Bombshell. That was how Cillian had described her.

“Artem,” she says, giving me a seductive smile that I know not to trust.

That was how she had been trained to look at all men.

At least, the ones who can do something for her.

If she is interested in me, it’s not for my good looks.

“Or do I need to address you as ‘don’ now?” she adds teasingly.

“Artem works for me,” I reply. “Drink?”

“Mojito,” she replies.

I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not one of your marks, ‘Lana,” I remind her.

She smiles and relaxes into her seat a little. “Beer, then” she replies.

“Still a beer drinker.”

“Always.”

I get up and move to the tiny makeshift bar in the corner. I grab a beer for her and a bottle of water for myself.

“What happened to Artem Kovalyov the whiskey drinker?” she asks in surprise.

“Things change,” I answer simply. I leave it at that and change the subject. “How have you been, Svetlana?”

She hesitates, still eyeing my water, before shrugging and meeting my gaze. “Busy.”

“So I’ve heard.” I fold my hands and lean back. “I was impressed with your resume.”

“You have plenty of spies,” she points out. “Why call me?”

“None like you,” I say.

She bats her eyelashes. “Stop it. You’ll make me blush.”

“And if you do, I’ll know you’re playing a part.”

Her smile drops at once. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning there are women who blush and women who don’t,” I say. “And you most definitely fall into the latter category.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that or not,” she smiles.

I laugh. “It was definitely a compliment for someone in your line of work.”

“You didn’t extend me an invitation here to flatter me, Artem,” she says. “Why am I here?”

“You know why.”

“You want me to seduce someone.”

“Budimir Kovalyov,” I fill in. “My uncle.”

Her eyes betray a hint of fear. “I see.”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” I say. “It’s not an easy job. Budimir enjoys his women, but they’ve only ever been expendable to him. No woman has ever managed to hold his interest longer than a few months. But that’s exactly what I’m hiring you to do. Hold his interest. Earn his trust. Make yourself a part of his entourage and eventually, he’ll let his guard down.”

She doesn’t move, but I can see the fear blossoming in her. She knows full well how dangerous Budimir’s temper can be, and how fickle his affections.

“Even if he doesn’t open up to you directly,” I go on, “you might be able to pick up on little things. Plans that might be useful to me, alliances that I haven’t anticipated, fractures within his ranks that I can exploit.”

Svetlana considers my words carefully. “I’ve seen your

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