Page 37 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
And in that moment, something shattered in Mikko.
* * *
Present Day
The scent of blood clung to Mikko’s skin even though he’d showered and changed his clothes as soon as he’d returned to his residence. After watching his men damn near decimate another loose-lipped employee, he couldn’t get the smell out of his nose. It brought back with it unbearable memories.
Between him and Cristiano, they’d interrogated a dozen men today, their efforts revealing little. No one seemed to know why or how or who would kill Ivan. Most responses boiled down to his cheating habits during games or his wife being fed up with his behavior and hiring a hit man. All plausible, which meant nothing could necessarily be eliminated.
His head fucking hurt, and his eyes ached inside his own skull. The lick of vodka tempted him once again, but a new idea had unfurled in his brain.
Standing in front of his full-length mirror, its size ostentatious evenfor his tastes, he adjusted the long sleeve compression shirt fitted to his body. It was slightly uncomfortable, but it would protect his skin from the body armor he needed to slip on. He wasn’t one to forgo his motorcycle gear.
My tattoos cost too damn much,he thought.
Once his armor was strapped on and secure, he pulled a thick, black hoodie over it, the size large and able to conceal his gear and figure. And for tonight,thatwas important. Remaining unknown in the shadows was imperative.
A dark balaclava covered his face, only his vibrant eyes visible. Grabbing his gloves and helmet on the way out of his penthouse, Mikko took note of the space. Ever since Anika had found him, she’d plagued his thoughts, but it was more than that. Everywhere he went, there was always the telltale prickle on the back of his neck as if he was being watched.
Perhaps I’m just as paranoid as my father.
That notion stung, but it allowed him to move on, flicking the lights off and locking his door behind him.
On the elevator ride down he studied his reflection mirrored in the glass lining the car while his mind recited the encounter atBubblegumagain—the way Anika found him, approached him,andtalked to him. The way he found her undressing in front of her home’s windows…
He thought having a name to know her by would suffice—would curb the growing curiosity in his gut—but it didn’t. Instead, he’d snuck around to see her interaction with Levi, had driven by her house, and knew her basic information like the back of his hand.
Cristiano would’ve called him crazy and stupid and other words the English dictionary probably didn’t even know of. Which was fair. Mikkowasall those things. That was why he’d kept this all a secret, a nasty little piece of himself he hid from the light. Anika was his to figure out and solve. His to torment once he discovered her motives.
With a tired sigh, even though his evening was just beginning, Mikko stepped out into the lobby of the lower level of the parking garage connected to his building. Gloomy concrete walls surrounded him as he strode across the empty parking spots toward his reserved corner.
There, under the sterile lights, his Audi RS 6 and motorcycle glinted—both dark as night. While the color appealed to him for many reasons, tonight’s activities would showcase his preferences.
Stealth.
With his smug smirk hidden beneath his balaclava, he pulled his helmet on and swung a leg over his bike.
Time to forget about his troubles for a moment and pay his latest obsession another visit.
* * *
AFTER SPENDINGWAYtoo much time combing through Anika’s digital footprint—a pastime quickly forming into a habit abusing all of the power at his fingertips—Mikko knew exactly where she was tonight. He knew she got off work around five-thirty or six depending on her work load before grabbing a quick dinner. Her meals were small, a prequel to her actual dinner hours later, consisting of fruit, a protein shake, and a granola bar.
It was then that she headed to a stylish gym a couple blocks away from her office building. Once there, she’d spend exactly two hours training cardio and lifting weights. And if he timed it right, he’d be pulling into the small parking lot just as she would be finishing up.
With the loud roar of his engine and music playing softly in his ears from the Bluetooth device connected to his helmet, Mikko wove through the city streets.
With his identity hidden, he could be whoever he wanted. And after the day he’d had, anonymity and shedding the Romanov name sounded heavenly. Who he’d be when he got there, he wasn’t sure, but he knew she was smart enough to most likely recognize him from the warehouse showing a couple nights ago.
Until then, he kept his composure and turned into the small parking lot. Most of the spaces were full, the evening routine of most city-goers lining up with Anika’s. But on his bike, it didn’t matter. Slipping between cars, he found her Kia and maneuvered his motorcycle beside it. It was a tight fit, but he managed.
Anika’s car was farther from the closest streetlight than he would’ve chosen for himself, but the shadows allowed for a place to lurk. He killed the engine and remained astride his bike, feet firmly planted.
Minimal foliage allowed for him to see across the street and into the large panes of glass fronting the gym. Searching for her, Mikko tapped his gloved fingers on his gas tank impatiently. Evening air brushed past him, his body hardly noticing it beneath all his layers. Risking a portion of his face being exposed, he popped his visor open about an inch.
Ah, much better.
Chilly October air grazed across his heated face, providing momentary relief.
