Page 13 of Fierce Pursuit

"I want my belongings. Then I'm leaving."

"So soon?" another voice drawled from the doorway, familiar as my own reflection and twice as irritating.

I closed my eyes and ground my teeth, the muscle in my jaw jumping.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy.

"Var," I greeted without turning.

"Kostya."

Var stepped into the room, immaculate as always in his bespoke suit, not a hair out of place. Looking amused, like he had walked in on a joke he wasn't going to let me in on. His presence filled the space, commanding attention without effort. The scent of his expensive cologne mingled with the stale coffee and fear that permeated the office.

He turned to the captain. "Thank you for your cooperation. It has been noted. An envelope to show our appreciation will be delivered to your home."

As we walked down the hall, shoes clicking against the linoleum, Var grabbed my arm, fingers digging into the muscle.

I didn't shake him off. I knew what was coming.

He had warned me to make my presence in Chicago known to my cousin.

"Curious as to why I'm here?" he started, voice deceptively light.

"No." It was obvious. He may have been a friend, and one of the few people we did business with in Chicago, but that didn't mean I wanted him seeing me in police custody. The humiliation burned deep, a stain that wouldn't wash away easily.

"I'm here because you, dear friend, forgot who you are and what we do, but even worse, you failed to take my warning seriously." Each word was a bullet, precisely aimed.

He handed me my phone and wallet, their weight familiar in my palm. Before tucking them away, I checked my phone.

A dozen missed calls from Gregor.

So much for flying under the radar.

We walked through the precinct, officers scrambling out of our way like cockroaches when the light turned on.

"I told you. This isn't business. It's personal," I muttered, the throbbing in my head intensifying with each step.

"I don't think Gregor cares why you're here. It's the disrespect. You didn't inform him." Var's voice was tight, controlled, but I could hear the underlying warning.

"It's not important." I rubbed my wrist where the cuffs had been too tight. My fingers still tingled, circulation slowly returning.

"Then there was no reason not to call him. Gregor is many things, but unreasonable isn't one of them." Var gave me a knowing look, his eyes sharp as glass. "It doesn't mean he won't rip your head off for causing this avoidable and very public mess with the police."

I scoffed. "I think his wife has calmed most of his temper."

"Please let me be in the room when you tell him that."

I said nothing.

There had been whispers after Gregor's marriage, and then after Damian's, and after they let their sister marrybelow her rank. Some questioned the strength of the American side of the family.

Meanwhile, the Russian government and international sanctions had tightened their grip, making business harder. Less profitable. In short, it was a bad time for me to be bringing unwanted attention to our family operations.

"So, how'd it go?" Var asked in that smug, I'm-the-older-brother voice that tempted me to break his perfect white teeth.

"I found her." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, victory and defeat in equal measure.

"That's excellent news, but I didn't see her in your personal effects. Is she in your pocket or?—?"

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