Page 67 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

But it’s a trick. He teases me, embarrasses me, and then trusts that I’ll run off and do as I’m told.

So far, it’s worked way too well.

Not this time.

“It sounds to me like you might be the one on the deadline,” I say. My voice is shaky, but I press on. “What’s the matter? Is the boss putting the pressure on you?”

Nikolai whips around, his gray eyes hard as steel. “Excuse me?”

“If you’re in trouble, I can help,” I say softly. “I thought you were embezzling money for yourself, lining your own pockets. But if this man—Giorgio or George or whatever… if he’s laundering money through your business or forcing you to do anything, I can help. I’m trained to report this kind of thing to the authorities. I can vouch for you.”

I’m not even finished speaking yet when Nikolai tips his head back and laughs.

It’s a deep, obnoxious laugh. Like I’ve just told the world’s funniest joke.

I roll my eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Which is what makes this so funny. You actually think you can save me.”

“If you’re in trouble, yeah, I—”

“You can’t save me, because I’m not in trouble.”

I sigh. “I know it might be embarrassing to admit you’re in over your head. But you can turn it around. We can get you out of this.”

Nikolai whips around the desk so fast that I don’t even have time to step back before he’s in front of me. I have to crane my neck back to look at his face.

“I’m not part of anything I don’t want to be a part of,” he growls. “If I were you,accountant, I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut about what you don’t know. Which as far as I can tell, is most things.”

Asshole. How does he make “accountant” sound like a slur?

I take a deep breath and steel myself, even though all I want to do is curl up in a little ball. “At least I’m not afraid to stand up to the people who want to control me,” I say, jabbing a finger into his chest. “If you think I’m going to sit idly by and let you turn me into an accessory for your crimes, you’re insane. You may be afraid of this Giorgos guy, but I’m not.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he hisses. “Ya ne boyus’ etogo zhalkogo podrazhatelya mafioznogo bossa. On boit·sya menya.”

I’m less surprised Nikolai has slipped seamlessly into Russian and more surprised by how much of it I understand.

I was almost fluent at one point, but my understanding started slipping as soon as my dad died. I buried that with him when I was too young to know any better.

Still, I understand enough.

“I’m not afraid of that pathetic wannabe mafia boss.Heis afraid ofme.”

Mafia?Did I hear that right? Images of old school gangsters with comically large guns and fedoras flood my mind.

What the hell is Nikolai tangled up in?

What the hell amItangled up in?

Suddenly, Nikolai tips his head to the side and arches a brow, suspicious.

I almost answer in kind before I decide to lie. The less he knows I know, the better. “You’ll have to speak in English if you want me to understand you.”

I do my best to look annoyed even as my heart is thundering in my chest. This is so much worse than a simple case of embezzlement. If Nikolai is involved in some crime syndicate or the mafia, I could be in serious danger.

So could Elise.

“I took two semesters of Spanish in high school,” I add, “so if I’m ever lost in Mexico and looking for a bathroom, I’m set. Beyond that, it’s all a mystery to me.”

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