Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I text Lev.
Need to talk to you. Right now. Call me ASAP
There are no dots and no sign he’s read the text. I send another message.
It’s urgent.
I’m too keyed up to wait. The office suddenly feels suffocating. I just need to clear my head. I hold the folder against my chest, turn off the computer, and tuck my laptop into my bag. I get up and force myself to walk at a normal pace so I don’t look suspicious.
I pass the reception desk and nod at the receptionist as if everything is fine. The elevator doors open, and I slip in and hit the button for the lobby. Thom or Jareth should be downstairs, ready to jump in as soon as they see me. With any luck, I’ll be in an SUV in less than a minute. Then I can give this folder to Lev, and he can do what needs to be done.
Just as the elevator doors are about to close, a hand slides between them, stopping them short. The sensors catch and the panels bounce back. Marcus steps in, a soft smile on his face. His suit is as crisp as always, a freshly pressed pocket square peeking from his breast pocket, and a needlessly expensive tie around his neck.
“Hey, Mari,” he says casually. “Got a minute?”
“I was heading down, actually.” I smile sheepishly. “I’m not feeling very well. I’m sure you understand. Maybe we can talk tomorrow?”
“It won’t take long,” he says, still smiling.
When the elevator doors open, he holds them with his palm and glances at someone. One of my guards, I’m sure.
“I just need five,” Marcus says, and I peek out to see Thom frowning at me.
I open my mouth to say no, to tell Thom to intervene, but Marcus coolly shuts the door, his face cut off mid-frown. He presses the emergency button to make sure we won’t be interrupted, then turns to me. He looks calm and patient, but I don’t miss the sinister ripple of frustration under the surface.
“You’ve been pulling old batches,” he says carefully, just on the wrong side of friendly.
“That’s my job,” I say as calmly as I can.
He reaches into his suit jacket and slips the gun from his jacket and presses it against my back, careful not to draw the cameras’ attention.
“Don’t you dare scream,” he says quietly, too soft for the camera to pick up. “Don’t try to run. We’re going on a ride.”
“Lev knows,” I bluff. “I texted him. He’s on his way now.”
He laughs casually, as if I’ve told a harmless joke. “He’ll never find you,” he says.
“You won’t get away with this,” I shoot right back, braver than I feel.
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes at me, still wearing that self-satisfied smirk.
“I already have.”
He pulls at a panel I’ve never noticed and presses a button. The elevator moves again, inexplicably going down. B1 flickers on the screen. Then B2. When the doors open, I know we’re underground. I can smell iron and dust, metallic at the back of my throat. All I can see is concrete and fluorescent lights. And no guard.
“Walk,” he commands.
He takes my elbow, guiding me out of the elevator in a way that I’m sure looks polite. The pressure against my skin is anything but. We pass an empty glass security booth. The feed on the monitor loops an empty hallway. Marcus swipes a card, and we go through a door, where a black SUV waits with its engine running. The driver wears a cap pulled low so I can’t see his face.
“Marcus,” I plead, because I have no other moves left. “You don’t have to do this. Let’s just go back upstairs and wait for Lev. I’m sure this is all a mistake.”
He smiles coldly at me. “No,” he answers, and the word is almost gentle. “You just had to go and pull the wrong thread. You couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
Before I realize what’s happening, he yanks my bag off my shoulder. I grip the strap, an automatic reflex, but he’s much quicker and much stronger. Pain bites across my fingers, forcing me to let go. He throws the bag into a gray trash can, where it lands with a thud.
“Get in,” he says, opening the door to the SUV.
I know that if he gets me in a car and drives me to an unknown location, I’m as good as dead. My mind races back to every terrifying scenario Lev walked me through, trying to convince me of the importance of following his very strict guidelines. A lot of good those did.
He expected his enemy to be on the outside, to be with another Bratva or even with the Feds. I heard him and Yuri talking long and low about all the possible scenarios. And sometimes there was Marcus, in the penthouse or in Lev’s office, always part of the inner circle, always a fixture in the planning of my safety.