Page 3 of Big Bad Daddy

“Mr. Volkov?” My voice shakes as I tiptoe closer, breaking his sharp gaze to allow me a moment to breathe. His expression is utterly unreadable. I have no idea if my presence piques his curiosity or annoys the hell out of him. For the sake of my mental well-being, I’ll pretend he’s intrigued.

“Miss Sheridan, please take a seat.” Boris waves his massive hand at the lone chair in front of his large desk. I didn’t expect him to be so handsome. I’m unsure why I expected a man resembling Marlon Brando inThe Godfather. Boris looks nothing like that. He seems like no one I’ve ever met.

Tasha told me he’s just a few years shy of fifty. The only thing about his appearance that looks middle-aged is his salt-and-pepper hair—both on his head and the light dusting peeking out from the top of his dress shirt.

I’m so nervous I could vomit, and the man doesn’t appear to have a care in the world. He sits comfortably, leaning back as he crooks his elbows and places his hands behind his head. I avert my gaze, afraid he’ll see my eyes skim across the broad landscape of his sculpted chest and perfectly defined pecs. It’s impossible to control my gaze. Since I walked into this room, my eyes have seemingly developed a mind of their own.

“Thank you for seeing me. You must be a busy man, and I’m grateful you’ve taken time out of your schedule on such short notice,” I whisper, tucking the sides of my short dress before sitting, hoping it doesn’t ride up high enough to give him an accidental peep show. There are plenty of things I’d do to help find Scarlett, but I’m not sure if prostituting myself is one of them.

“You caught me at a good time. I had the evening off, and my advisor told me you sounded frantic. I understand you’re worried about your friend,” Boris says, his stony expression lacking the requisite empathy. The man is toying with me. He knows why I’m here but he'll still make me beg for help.

This will almost certainly be a disaster. I swear, Scarlett better be in danger. That girl will owe me big time when all this is over.

I swallow the lump clogging my throat, summon my courage, and blurt out why I’m here. “Scarlett Rossi is my best friend. She’s like the sister I never had. My sister, Megan, is rotten to her core and nothing like Scarlett,” I ramble, too nervous to stop the needless words falling from my lips.

Boris stares, his eyes narrowing with confusion. He parts his lips to speak, then pauses when he sees me take a deep breath and lean forward to continue my incoherent prattling.

“Two days ago, Scarlett traveled to her grandmother’s house in Rye. That’s a ninety-minute drive with traffic. We messaged one another, averaging a text every minute. Then, her textssuddenly stopped. It worried me of course, but I naturally assumed she’d lost service. The countryside never has reliable signal. An hour later I called her grandmother, and she hadn’t arrived. I called back again and again with no success. When I reached out to her parents, they didn’t seem concerned and told me they would look into it and get back to me.Look into it?”I shout, then hold my fingers to my lips, embarrassed when my voice bounces off the walls after emerging twice as loud as I intended.

Boris Volkov lifts one well-landscaped silver eyebrow and angles his head, glaring, like he’s only minutes away from fastening me into a straitjacket. He clears his throat and rests his clasped hands on the desk, his stern expression softening as he speaks. “What may I do for you, Miss Sheridan? You still haven’t told me why you’re here. How did you decide I was the person to help you find Scarlett?” The corner of his mouth tips into a slight grin, and my insides melt into pudding.

I shrink in my seat and dab a tissue on my dewy brow. Boris Volkov is even more attractive than his hot-as-sin son. “Mr. Volkov—” he cuts me off and corrects my formality.

“Call me Boris, please,” he suggests, although his stern gaze makes it feel more like a command.

I nod, suck in a loud breath, and try to organize my thoughts. “Forgive me. Anxiety runs in my family. You’re very kind to tolerate this intrusion.” I hold my breath and say a silent prayer that this man doesn’t lose his temper when I accuse his son of criminal activity. It seems far-fetched since they’re known criminals, but you never know what offends people.

My gaze meets his and my panicked heart sprouts wings. His soulful brown eyes steal my breath, holding it captive until I’m sure I’ll lose consciousness. That would be bad.

“It’s fine.” Boris makes a weak attempt at soothing my nerves, but I appreciate it, nonetheless. “You obviously believeI can help you find your friend. Why? What does her disappearance have to do with me?” He leans back into his chair and exhales loudly, a sign of annoyance.

My heart plummets and then shatters. I’m sure Boris knows his son is the person who took her. Tasha told me that when it comes to his men, especially his son, he knows all and sees all. This was a mistake of astronomical proportions. It was a last-ditch effort before heading to the cops again. They don’t believe she’s missing, but maybe I can try harder to convince them. Boris was my last hope, but he’s mocking my concerns.

“Nothing. I apologize for wasting your time. This was an error in judgment, but I had a hunch, and I didn’t feel right if I didn’t pursue it.” I scramble to my feet, hook my purse strap over my shoulder, and bolt toward the door. Afraid to turn around for fear he’ll see the tears flooding my eyes, I shout my apologies and run. He raises his voice with a reply I can’t hear. My heels echoing against the marble floor drown out his voice. I holler again when I feel the vibrations of his heavy steps close behind me. “Please forgive me, Mr. Volkov. I’ll see myself out.”

“Miss Sheridan, stop running.” Boris follows, and my short stride is no match for his long legs. He’s even scarier standing up. Which is why I need to leave before Boris finds a reason to holdmehostage. Maybe he’ll kill me for bothering him with something so dumb. According to rumors, he killed hundreds of people. What’s one more?

“Mr. Volkov, I’m leaving now. I don’t know anything about your business. I won’t tell anyone where you live. There’s no need to harm me.” A flurry of nonsensical words falls from my lips as his strong hand clasps my waist and swings me into his arms. My palms land on his hard chest and I use whatever strength I can gather to push him away. Fortunately, he releases me before I make a greater fool of myself.

“I’m not going to harm you.” Boris lifts my purse, gently placing the strap on my shoulder—an embarrassing consequence of losing my cool and scattering my belongings on the polished floor. The corner of his mouth curves into a subtle smile, and my flushed skin turns to gooseflesh. “I apologize for giving you a hard time. Truth be told, I’m impressed by your bravery and loyalty to your friend. Take a walk with me and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Chapter Three

Iadmire her courage. It’s not every day a woman like Sybil ventures into Little Odessa and takes her life in her hands for the sake of friendship. These aren’t the scenic streets of Upper Manhattan or the quaint, idyllic neighborhoods in Park Slope. This is therealBrooklyn, the way it used to be before gentrification and corporations came in and turned it into a fucking Disneyland. A woman as beautiful as she shouldn’t wander into the wolf’s den at this hour of the night.

Dangerous things can happen.

“This could have been handled over a phone call. Why would you travel so far to ask me questions I’m unsure I can answer?” I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her into my landscaped garden, a sanctuary set apart from the reality of the heavily armed men guarding the house.

Earlier today, I considered canceling this meeting. I’m a man, flesh and blood. Nothing good will come from exposing myself to such rabid temptation. After a few hours of consideration, I convinced myself I could be a parental figure. If Vivi were in need, I would hope someone would take herunder their wing and help her however they could. The scenario seemed plausible. I’m not a weak man. I’ve spent my life defeating my adversaries. It’s a shame I can’t find the motivation to remove my hand from her back.

Sybil flinches, her muscles stiffening at my touch. I expect her to move away, but she doesn’t. Instead of fleeing, like any woman of sound mind, she relaxes into my casual embrace and allows me to guide her farther, toward an empty bench. She takes the initiative to sit first, then hugs her chest, shivering from the light breeze in the air. I should return her to the warmth of the house, but if Bogdan is right about the mole, I wouldn’t want them leaking information about Sybil, possibly placing her in danger.

I don’t know her well enough to be concerned about her safety, but as a man who values unwavering loyalty, her devotion to her friend is commendable. She took a chance coming here and I would hate for her to suffer consequences for her concern.

“I didn’t believe you would speak to me over the phone. I’m not familiar with your line of business, but I assume you don’t discuss matters about kidnapped women with people you’ve never met or trust.” Her assumption about my business makes me grit my teeth, but I suppress my anger, realizing her implication comes from ignorance. She doesn’t know for sure that my son abducted her friend. She’s not technically wrong, but I don’t appreciate a woman I’ve only just met calling my son a criminal.

“Kidnapped? I don’t—” I open my mouth to defend what little honor my son has, but the flowery aroma of her perfume layered over the scent of her dewy skin hits me like a drug, instantly intoxicating me into silence.

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