Page 15 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
That was it. No signature, no indication as to who could’ve left it, but Mikko’s brain was already picturing whiskey eyes and dark lips and tequila.
“I would…but that doesn’t really make sense now does it, boss,” Cristiano’s voice cut through the whirring in his head. “Last I checked,you’rethe one who writes my paychecks. So, you’d just be giving it back to yourself.”
“Maybe I should take it out of your paycheck all together,” Mikko mused instead. He desperately tried to keep his emotions locked away. The note felt both like a threat, but also intimate. He would never hear the end of it from Cristiano if he found out. He was sure of it.
“What’d they even get ya for? If it’s sad enough, who knows, maybe I’ll be nice and let you take a chunk of my salary to make yourself feel better.”
“Howsweetof you.”
Plopping down into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes, Cristiano shrugged as if his act of kindness was the nicest thing he’d done in a while. Maybe after the night they’d had, it was. While they might’ve cleaned up in the club’s bathroom and changed clothes, the scent of copper still clung to their skin.
Intuition clenched in his gut, a soft voice murmuring in the back of his mind to do more research on this mystery woman as soon as he could. If she’d left this note, he had plenty of questions to ask her.
And maybe I want to see her again too.
“It was probably one of Ivan’s men trying to get back at you,” Cristiano said, rolling his window down so he could still chat with Mikko with his car door closed. Thunder rumbled nearby, small droplets of rain falling from the clouds forming up above. Shit, he’dhave to hightail it back to his penthouse to avoid getting completely soaked.
“Probably…” was all Mikko could say. Ripping the note free, he realized it was tacked to his motorcycle withgum. That piece of evidence made him certain it was—
A soft knock drew him from his reverie, the surroundings of his dismal high end office coming back into focus around him.
There, framed within the spotless glass of his office door, was Emma. Waving her in, Mikko leaned back in his office chair, trying to portray his usual cold exterior even though heat was rushing through his veins at the thought ofherleaving a noteandchewing gum on his bike. He was both offended and intrigued.
Mostly the latter since he’d saved the piece of gum.
For evidence,his mind reasoned.
Emma stepped through the doorway, her navy pantsuit crisp. Most would find her attractive, but Mikko merely found her mundane. It was how he saw most work-related items. She was someone his father would’ve tried to set him up with years ago. She was a woman who came from money and matched his professional physical appearance with one of her own.
“Mr. Romanov,” Emma said, greeting him with a stiff nod. She advanced farther into his office as the door closed behind her, her heels muffled on the carpet. Mikko dipped his chin back in response, content to do as little talking as possible. “The funds you’ve requested from Ivan have been wired over to us this morning.”
A cold smile slipped over Mikko’s face.
I wonder what he had to do to pullthatoff.Out loud he said,“This is great news. Let’s hope he stays on track from now on.”
“That would make my job easier,” Emma said, her own knowing grin barely morphing the rest of her face. “Also, between our efforts and Ivan’s, the news articles and reports have been expunged fromthe media. No one should bother us now, sir.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Sitting up, Mikko straightened the already pristine papers lining his desk. “I don’t think we should have any more troubles concerning him now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Glancing at his watch, he asked, “Am I still meeting with my two o’clock?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, I’ll come by soon to collect you. Based on the number of people they’re bringing with them, I’ve reserved the main conference room, both for space and first impressions.”
“Thank you,” was all he said, grateful Emma knew what he needed without him saying. Despite her being newer—Alek’s old assistant intolerable and quickly fired when Mikko came of age—she understood the ways of his mind.
Most of the time, real estate was about making connections and impressing those with the most money or sway. The high end Romanov office never failed to influence people and distract them from other inner workings happening after dark.
Unless that was what they were interested in themselves.
But those were secrets for later. Right now, Mikko would plan accordingly and let a certainsomeoneoccupy his mind for the time being. He already had her handwriting and a chewed piece of gum in his possession.
What could go wrong?
When Emma returned a few minutes later, signaling to him his new clients had arrived, Mikko decided to use his power for devious things. The world was at his fingertips; he’d be foolish not to use that to his advantage. Besides, this little game was a welcome distraction to his usual repetitive lifestyle.
Walking the expanse of the office leading toward the main conference room—more large swathes of glass visible from where hewas and an extravagant light fixture hanging in the middle of the room—Mikko found himself smiling. For the first time in a while, he feltexcitedabout something.
