Russian Mobster’s Revenge (3 page)

“Emily, wait.”

“No.” She was done with this conversation, and right now, she was done with her brother. “I’m gone.”

She picked up her box and marched out of her office. Her path took her right by Carrie, and her assistant frowned as she realized that Emily was leaving for the day.

“Ms. Volkov?” Carrie called. “Are you gone for the day?”

Emily called back over her shoulder, “More like the quarter.”

“Wait. What?” Carrie sounded truly alarmed.

“Just cancel all my appointments until further notice. And make my brother, Sergei, responsible for the reports and all the rest of what I usually do.” Emily actually felt a jolt of satisfaction at being able to deliver that order.

Carrie’s jaw dropped open. “Mr. Sergei? Ms. Volkov, are you sure?”

“Of course not, but it’s his company. If he wants to run it into the ground, I suppose he’ll just have to figure it out as he goes.” Emily didn’t pause any longer. She kept walking.

By the time she hit the elevator she was feeling rather faint. It wasn’t that she was less resolved to do what she had agreed to do. More like she was wondering whether or not she was strong enough for the task to come.

Emily strode right through the front doors of the building and out to the sidewalk. The cool afternoon air felt good on her flaming face. She inhaled deeply and let the breath out slow. That was about the time she noticed the limo sitting at the curb. She stopped walking just as the back door opened and a gentleman got out.

“Hello, Emily,” Ivan Dedov said in a voice as smooth as whiskey. “I was wondering when I would see you.”

“You’ve just been…waiting out here?” Emily fumbled for words. “Why?”

“I don’t have a building with my name smeared all across it for the world to see where I do business,” Ivan explained. “I figured it would be only polite to show you in person where it is you’re going to be working.”

Emily tried to swallow, but her mouth felt full of cotton. This was unexpected. This was Ivan being charming and charismatic. She knew then that she was in trouble.

***

Ivan managed not to laugh at the expression of surprise on Emily’s face. Obviously she had expected him to be as inexperienced and uncouth as he had been eight years ago. Fortunately, he had learned a few things in that time.

Emily got into the limo and Ivan joined her in the back seat. He flared his nostrils, catching a hint of her vanilla spice scent. It was strange how that sort of thing could stay with a man for years. He could also tell that she was nervous, despite her resolve not to show it.

Ivan straightened the collar of his dress shirt and then turned one of his cufflinks right side up. “How did your brother take the news that you’re coming to work for me?”

“About as well as could be imagined.” She gave him a sideways glance that suggested she thought it was rude to ask.

“Good,” Ivan snorted. “Perhaps that will begin the process of taking Sergei down a few pegs.”

“Why is that so important to you?” She turned in her seat, pegging him with an earnest stare that actually gave him the urge to squirm. “What does it really matter? You’re successful, right? Isn’t that enough?”

He turned away, staring out the window as the driver headed toward the building Ivan had purchased several years ago to be the center of his operations.

Why
was
this so important to him?

“You don’t even have an answer, do you?” The derisive note in her voice made him angry.

“Careful, Emily,” he growled. “You’re going to give away the fact that you care.”

She adjusted her hold on the box in her lap. “I’m not ashamed of the fact that I care, Ivan. You’re the one who is so determined to be ruthless.”

They didn’t speak again until the limo pulled up in front of his building. Ivan felt a shot of pride at the posh surroundings. He’d come far in the last eight years. Now it was time to make the two people who had declared him unworthy see that he wasn’t someone’s worthless underling anymore.

Emily got out of the limo and threw her head back, staring up at the fifteen-story building he called home. “This is yours?”

“I purchased it four or five years ago.” He intentionally sounded blasé, flicking his fingers toward the building in a casual manner.

“This is really nice, Ivan.” Emily’s honesty took him by surprise. She cocked her head as though she were evaluating his behavior. “You thought I wouldn’t care, or wouldn’t admit that you’ve come a long way. Didn’t you?”

Somehow that honest assessment of his expectations chafed away any satisfaction he might have taken from the fact that she was impressed. He shouldered past her toward the door, growling at her to hurry up. “Would you get a move on? We’re standing out here like tourists. Yes. It’s an expensive building. I own it. You’re in real estate, so I’m sure you know far more about its virtues than I do. So what?”

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Emily said stiffly. “You can take a compliment now and again without being such a jerk, Ivan.”

There. That was much better. When she was prickly he felt less inclined toward her. He could be rude and domineering and not even feel bad about it. But when she was all compliments and smiles he felt all of that protective ice around his heart begin to melt.

Ivan shoved his way through the front door. The doorman on duty leaped to attention. The deference made Ivan feel even better. He straightened his spine and growled a greeting before striding toward the elevators without even bothering to make certain that Emily was following along.

“I love the marble work on the floor.” She was standing in the center of the lobby, walking in circles.

Ivan had to put his hand out to stop the elevator. “Are you going to get in or are you taking the stairs?” he growled.

“I’m just admiring your building.” She threw her head back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling where the crystal chandelier hung like a sparkling cluster of jewels.

Ivan couldn’t help but admire her as she admired the furnishings in his building. Emily was dressed like an uptight businesswoman in her black suit, but the way she wore her hair up gave him a good view of her graceful neck. And her movements were pulling her clothing snug against her curves and giving him a good view of the loveliness of her body.

“Well, Ivan,” she said as she slipped into the elevator, “you’ve done very well for yourself. That’s for certain.”

They were the words he had waited so long to hear, and yet he felt no better at all for hearing them. “Just get in the damn elevator so we can go upstairs.” He said a few choice phrases in Russian, annoyed and uncertain as to why.

“So do you have offices upstairs?” she asked as the elevator rose toward the fifteenth floor.

“Not exactly.” He felt smug as he realized that she hadn’t yet guessed exactly what her situation was going to be. “I work out of my apartment.”

“You have the penthouse?” She nodded. She wasn’t surprised at all.

Ivan frowned. “It’s a very large space, so I’ve converted half of it to offices. If I need to have meetings with my dealers, suppliers, or other associates, I schedule them at one of my restaurants.”

“That’s a good idea.” Her voice was pleasant. “So will I have an office in one of those restaurants?”

“No,” he grunted. “You’re going to be working out of my office on the fifteenth floor. And your job includes a bed in that apartment.”

“An apartment on a different floor?” He saw her swallow, obviously uncomfortable.

“No.” Ivan waited until the doors opened into the foyer of his penthouse apartment. “Welcome home, Emily.”

Chapter Four

Emily was beginning to think she had made a very big mistake in agreeing to Ivan’s ridiculous scheme. She straightened her spine, gathered her resolve, and marched into the ornate foyer of Ivan’s home, but inside she wished she could turn tail and run.

The penthouse apartment was palatial. Emily turned in a slow circle as she took in the vaulted ceiling and the circular table in the center of the room. She moved closer to the table, wanting a look at the artwork sitting on the inlaid wood.

She felt Ivan’s larger-than-life presence looming behind her. “Do you like the sculpture?”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

The stone rendition of a soaring falcon seemed to be circling a rocky outcrop. The falcon’s feathers were so intricately carved that it appeared that she might be able to reach out and touch one, only to feel it move beneath her fingers.

Ivan strode past her, swaggering arrogantly through the space as though he were king of the world. Emily wondered when he had become so materialistic. The Ivan she had fallen in love with eight years ago had placed almost no importance on possessions.

He flung his arms out to encompass the entire apartment. “This is my humble abode.”

Her gaze slid over the richly appointed rooms, the elegant furnishings, state-of-the-art entertainment system, and the gourmet kitchen she could just barely glimpse from the entryway. Everything was new. It looked barely used. Even now Ivan was sitting on the brown suede leather surface of his couch in a way that gave her the impression that he was quite uncomfortable there.

“So what do you think of my home?” he pressed. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“If that sort of thing is important to you.” She shrugged. “Is there someplace I can put my office things?”

He jumped up from the couch, leading the way down a wide hallway. Their trek ended in an office with a fabulous view of the city park. “You may use my desk.” He indicated the mahogany monstrosity with a wave of his hand. “I don’t work here very much.”

She didn’t take the bait, setting her things on the desk, instead, and poking at the desktop computer. “Do you have a list of tasks that I’m going to be responsible for? I’m assuming you must have had a plan since you were so adamant that I work for you.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “My books are right there. If you wouldn’t mind making the last few days’ worth of entries, and then we’ll meet later on to discuss the rest of your duties.”

“I hope you’re not still thinking that I’m going to fall all over myself to jump into bed with you.” She rifled through her box, searching for her day planner.

***

Ivan was not about to tell her how much it hurt his pride to hear her say that. Perhaps he had expected things to happen in much the same way they had when she had been only nineteen and he had been twenty-three. She had certainly seemed willing back then.

“Why did you never try to convince your brother to let us be together?” Ivan asked suddenly.

She glanced up from the desk, her eyebrows raised and a look of plain surprise on her face. “I’m not sure what you mean. Sergei fired you. I had nothing to do with it.”

“You could have argued on my behalf. We were a couple. You could have done
something
,” Ivan argued.

“I could have
done
something?” Emily asked incredulously. “I like how all of it—everything—is just my fault. What sort of power do you think I hold over my brother? I could have no more changed his mind than you could have.”

Ivan gazed at her, completely baffled by what she was saying. It was the antithesis of everything he’d ever thought. Spinning on his heel, he made to leave his office. “Everything you need for business should be right here. If not, send a text and I’ll make certain someone responds.”

“Wait,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

“I need some air,” he grunted.

Ivan left her behind and headed out to the terrace. He couldn’t stand to be inside anymore. A fierce wind had kicked up outside, pushing the clouds across the afternoon sky and ruffling his dark hair. He placed his hands on the stone railing and leaned out to catch a glimpse of the world fifteen stories below.

“I could no more have changed his mind than you could have,” he muttered, repeating her words. “That’s bullshit. He would have listened to her.”

Ivan groaned and tried to refocus. It didn’t matter what had happened eight years ago. None of that made any difference. He had a plan for today and that was all that mattered. He pulled out his phone and dialed Samantha Brisco’s number.

“Hey,” he said tersely. “Start picking up that list of dealers and pushers I gave you.”

“Sergei Volkov’s men?” Samantha sounded skeptical.

“Yes. I want them off the streets. I want them unable to earn any revenue for Sergei.” He pounded his fist on the unforgiving stone of the railing.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, but then she agreed. “All right, but I’m warning you, Ivan. I want the bigger fish and you’re just giving me bait. If I see a chance, I’m going for it.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Ivan grunted.

He gazed out over the city, watching the twilight begin to darken the edges of the sky. It was time to put the second part of his plan into action.

***

It took Emily all of ten minutes to decide that Ivan had absolutely no need of her administrative services. So why was she really here?

She turned in her chair and gazed out at the spectacular view from Ivan’s office windows. Hooking her foot on the edge of the desk, she idly spun her chair in half circles while she contemplated his intentions.

Ivan had incriminating evidence on her brother. Or at least he had knowledge of something that would make life very difficult for Sergei within the organization. Ivan also had ample reason to want to get back at Sergei. Her brother’s actions eight years ago had humiliated Ivan in more ways than one.

“It’s too bad nobody ever wonders what
I
thought about that whole bullshit situation,” she muttered. “I lost too. Except no one cares. They’re too worried about their stupid pride.”

Emily put her hands over her face and tried to clear her mind. She had agreed to this stupid plan for all the wrong reasons. She wanted to help her brother, but she also wanted another chance with Ivan.

“What are you doing?”

Emily straightened abruptly, feeling embarrassed. “I was just…contemplating my circumstances,” she said lightly.

He crossed his arms over his chest, making himself look twice as forbidding. “I’m sure your boyfriend is probably pissed that you took this job.”