Page 194 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

After the appointment, I wanted to take Belle back home and celebrate by fucking her in my nice, soft bed for once, as per her request. But I’ve been away from the office for too long. Bridget has a massive backlog of messages for me and my inbox is overflowing.

I’m cracking into my email when Bridget calls. “Mr. Zhukova, I have two people here in the lobby who want to talk with you.”

“Then you have two disappointed people. Tell them I’m busy.”

“I know you said you didn’t want to take any meetings today, but—”

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“Wait,” Bridget says before I can hang up. “Mr. Zhukova, I think these people are detectives.”

Shit.“Do you know what they’re here about?”

“They won’t talk to me. They just want to see you.”

Whatever it is, it’s not great. I text Arslan.Detectives here.

“Fine,” I tell her. “Send them in.”

A minute later, there’s a sharp knock on my office door.

“Come in.”

Detective Andrews is closer to my age with a rounder middle. He steps in with a younger detective whose name I’ve forgotten trailing behind him. He nods as he drops into the chair across from my desk. “Nikolai.”

“Detective Andrews.” I turn to the other man. “And your name?”

“Howard,” he says, shifting his shoulders. I’m not sure if he’s offended I forgot him or not. Either way, I don’t care.

“Detectives Andrews and Howard, what can I do for you today?”

“We’ve been trying to get in touch since yesterday,” Andrews explains. “We left a message with your secretary and never heard back.”

“I was out of office yesterday. I just got back in an hour ago.”

“Any reason in particular?” Andrews asks.

I fold my hands over my desk. “Personal business and a doctor appointment. Any reason in particular you’re here?”

Half the city’s detectives are on my payroll, but they don’t usually show up to my office unless there’s a good reason. I expected to hear from Andrews after Arslan set fire to one of the Greek holdings last week.

But considering the timing of their arrival, my guess is this visit has something to do with the two men I shot in front of my house two nights ago.

Andrews tilts his head to his younger colleague, and Detective Howard shifts forward. “Have you spoken to Giorgos Simatou recently?”

“We spoke on the phone a few days ago.”

“And that’s the last time you talked to him?”

I frown and start to reach for my office phone. “What is this about? Should I call Giorgos and have him confirm when we spoke?”

“That would be pretty difficult,” Howard says.

“And why is that?”

Andrews sighs and quirks his mouth into a grimace. It’s his “level with me” look. “Because he’s dead.”

My hand falls lifelessly to my desk. “You’re kidding.”

---