Page 15 of The Bratva's Innocent Pregnant Bride
“Perfect,” I said. “I can cross reference them and hopefully we can finally pin these suckers down.”
“And eradicate them,” Anatoli piped up, listening in the whole time.
“As we always do with our enemies,” I said.
CJ gave me a look and I stopped myself from saying more. If it weren’t for his incredible software that could track just about anything, we wouldn’t have this new information. When he and Masha showed up to the meeting that should have just been CJ and Mat later that night, I managed to stay cool.
Maybe too cool, because after we hashed out the best ways to keep tabs on all the many people associated with the huge list of businesses that were supposedly linked to the Collective, Masha looked hurt that I didn’t want to stay and have drinks with them. CJ and Mat were off the hook, wanting to get to bed early, and they didn’t get a hangdog look, so I could only surmise she was once again trying to force some kind of friendship with Anatoli on me.
Despite our age difference, Masha and I had always been close. Mat was her mentor and I was her buddy. A big brother when things got rough, and someone who gave her shit sometimes, too. We always got along and I always trusted her judgment until she brought one of our worst enemies into the family and expected all of us to instantly accept him.
If I thought Anatoli was still a danger to Masha, or any of us, she’d have been a widow by now. The fact he was still alive should have been good enough for her.
Putting Masha’s hurt feelings aside, I settled down in my room to start compiling CJ’s new list with mine. There was a soft patter at the windows and I looked out at the crisp night to see more snowflakes fluttering against the glass. The moon was as bright as a searchlight and I walked over to take in the natural beauty surrounding the lodge, hoping to let go of the anger that gnawed at me every time I had to be nice to an asshole.
It was definitely beautiful outside, moreso when I spotted Paisley walking out of the lodge to sit on one of the rough hewn benches near the fire pit. She tugged her coat around her, illuminated by the moon and the tiny lights in the trees that surrounded the house. With the gentle snow falling all around her, she could have been a work of art.
Then she hopped up, anxiously pacing as she pressed her phone to her ear. I leaned closer to the window, following the path she created in the snow. With a sigh, I began to turn away. I really should get some work done eventually. The entire day had been eaten up with little kid activities. But there was something off about Paisley’s movements, the way she held her shoulders up near her ears, the look on her face.
She almost looked afraid.
Great. Was I starting to care about something more than getting her back into bed with me? It seemed like it, because once again I ignored what I should have been doing and headed out to see what was wrong.
Chapter 10 - Paisley
Not even Dan could make me lose my appetite after only picking at my breakfast and then spending the entire day on the slopes. Little kids were like machines, with way more energy than they needed. I was ready to collapse into the overstuffed armchair in my room, and settled my plate onto the desk, pulling out my phone.
Big mistake. Mel’s family member had replied to my message from that morning, informing me that he’d been found. And it wasn’t good news. The simple message was so somber, ending with a heartfelt thanks for caring and reaching out that I wrote back again.
There wasn’t much to say except the basic condolences and polite but meaningless asking if there was anything I could do. I couldn’t exactly tell her I thought Mel was kind of a creep who was probably doing something shady, and it was true that I didn’t think he deserved to be killed. Unless the shady dealings were much deeper than fudging a few numbers for a corporate account.
It could still be coincidental, but I was becoming more and more certain that I had stumbled into something I wanted out of.
Did my boss actually know what that list was, or was Erica just sweeping up all the papers on the desk because she thought I was spying on Mr. Caraggio for some reason? If she did know what the list meant, did she believe I had seen it and questioned it? Was I actually in danger, and not just of being unemployed when this nanny job ended?
My appetite was destroyed, but I forced down the meal anyway, since there was sure to be another active day ahead ofme tomorrow. Constant glances at my phone had me on edge and I finally shoved it aside, not as successful in shoving aside the worry that nagged me.
There was a light knock at my door and I called that it was open. Stephan’s mom, Olivia poked her head in, asking if I minded taking over bath time.
Jumping up, I assured her that was what I was there for, mentioning that it hardly felt like work at all so far.
“That’s nice to hear,” she said. “Sometimes Stephan tries to bite off more than he can chew, but Dan told me during dinner that you kept them all well in hand.”
Well, that was unexpected, but I wasn’t about to get complacent over one little compliment. She promised to come back up in a half an hour to take over bedtime reading, and by the time Stephan was in his jammies, Alina wanted to show me the videos she found of junior snowboarding competitions. In her pale blue nightgown and all her long curls free in a tangle instead of in her no nonsense braid, she looked younger than six. For a moment I wondered what kind of world she was growing up in. Just two days ago I thought my job was annoying but safe. Now I had no idea about anything.
Her father Aleks, who intimidated the hell out of me despite his big smile, came in to tell Alina to put away her tablet and get to bed. I was left to my own devices again, but I politely declined the invitation to join the card game starting up downstairs. If there was even a small chance Dan would be part of it, I wasn’t going anywhere near it. The afternoon was plenty. The only way to make sure I didn’t see him was to head back to my room.
A movie would have been a better idea than checking my phone yet again, but it seemed to be calling to me with a chanceat updates. Maybe something definitive would happen and both Jordan’s and Mel’s death would have suddenly been determined to be accidents and not murder.
There was a new notification, but not from any of the family members I’d been messaging. I stared at it for a long time, thinking it had to be a joke.
This is Special Agent Pierce with the FBI. Please get in touch with me regarding any information you may have about the recent death of Mel Ferguson.
The freaking FBI was messaging me? Who knew enough to make a joke like that, though?
This isn’t funny, I typed, ready to block him.
I agree. I was told by his sister that you might have information and that you were willing to help.
