Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

45. Andrik

45

ANDRIK

W hen I detect I am being watched, I stop eyeballing Mikhail guiding Zoya into the lower-level bar of the hotel. It isn’t as heated as the glare I issued earlier when I noticed Zoya’s arrival in my hometown had caught the attention of numerous men, but it is just as evil.

“Who is she to you?”

I spin away from the floor-to-ceiling two-way mirror of Maksim’s office to greet him with a handshake. We’ve met previously, but this is the first time it is about business.

When Maksim arches a dark brow, conscious I am being purposely coy, I say, “I could ask you the same.”

My daggers miss the bullseye when the faintest grin tugs his lips to the side at the same time his nostrils flare.

He wasn’t eye-fucking Zoya earlier.

His focus was steadfast on her friend.

How do I know this? He isn’t the slightest bit bothered about the visual of Zoya and Mikhail appearing cozy mere feet from his office window. I’m the only one struggling with jealousy.

I wouldn’t have sent Mikhail to do my bidding if Maksim hadn’t mistaken my arrival at his hotel as me bringing our meeting forward by several hours.

My head would be buried between Zoya’s legs.

Unwilling to show more of his hand than he just did, Maksim gestures for me to sit across from him. He is acting courteous because I own the airline Maksim and Zoya flew with this evening, meaning I wasn’t solely aware of Zoya’s visit to my hometown hours before it occurred, I also know my list of heart surgeons is being minimized each second Maksim exacts revenge.

Maksim killed Dr. Azores mid-flight and then secured my security company’s services to doctor the evidence.

I am more than happy to comply with his request, but only after issuing some of my own.

After unbuttoning my suit jacket, I take a seat across from Maksim before getting down to business. “I have names of the people you’re seeking. Many of them.” When he attempts to interrupt, I speak faster. It pisses him off, but so be it. I have as much, if not more, pull in this town as him. “Your mother didn’t end up where she was for no reason. This ruse runs far deeper than Myasnikov Private Hospital’s underbelly. To truly make a stance, you need the information my team has unearthed.”

I hand him a printout that Konstantine unearthed after a lengthy crawl through the system he hacked into weeks ago. It shows that Maksim’s mother is one of many victims. The main target won’t be recognized by name. When they mean nothing to you but a means to get off, you don’t get their name before leaving a fistful of bills on the nightstand.

Once I’m confident Maksim identifies the face of the woman being carried out of his hotel room clearly inebriated, I place a second photograph over the first.

This one adds a tic to his jaw.

The whore who kept his sheets warm for a night looks starkly different on an autopsy table.

“They took all her organs, including her eyes.”

Maksim tosses down the images before leaning back in his chair. “Are these supposed to rattle me?”

“No,” I reply, being honest. “But it is a little hypocritical to make it seem as if you’re taking down an industry you apparently commenced.”

He looks like he wants to slit my throat.

Good. It means he’s now paying attention.

“Someone in your operation is working with the federation.” His squint announces he’s heard of the federation, but his lack of worry shows he’s underestimating their potential. “There are numerous paper trails leading back to Ivanov Industries. Including the sale of your mother’s organs.”

“What benefit would I get from killing my mother?” He sounds like he wants to murder me just for the insinuation, and it adds another point to my tally.

“From the rumors circulating, to reach the top tier of the Fernandezes’ ladder.”

When my hand digs into my soft leather briefcase for more evidence, Maksim growls out, “Tread carefully, Kazimir. Very fucking carefully.”

I give him as much information as I can about organ sales on the black market without putting up the roadblocks I did weeks ago when I contacted Matvei.

It places me in Maksim’s favor, though not enough for him not to add his own stipulations to our verbal agreement.

“I will consider holding off on certain regions if you give me the names of everyone in the Myasnikov Private ring.”

I almost lecture him on how no business should be ran on “ifs,” but hold my tongue when I recall his willingness to bend protocols for me is better than any outcome I could have anticipated.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“No.” His headshake is as arrogant as the balling of his hand when he places it on his desk in clear warning that his patience is wearing thin. “I want them now .”

Something in his eyes tells me this is as personal as it gets for him as well, but not all of it centers around his mother’s recent hospital admission.

Knowledge that the changeup could swing the needle in my favor permanently sees me offering him a rare snippet of leniency. “Tell me the name you want me to exclude, and I’ll have my man run it through the list.”

His reply isn’t as immediate this time around, but it is brimming with angst. “Nikita Hoffman. Dr. Nikita Hoffman.”

“Running it now,” Konstantine announces, talking through the earpiece I’ve rarely been without over the past two weeks.

His fingers stroke the keyboard a handful of times before he cusses.

Mercifully, he isn’t a man I need to pry answers out of.

“She’s on the list, but you may not want to announce that.”

I pretend I can’t feel Maksim’s beady eyes on me. “Why?”

“Because Maksim isn’t the only one fond of the Good Doctor. So is your girl.”

When my phone dings, I remove it from my pocket and then mimic Konstantine’s expletive. The image he forwarded is grainy. It represents what I was staring at earlier. Zoya standing next to a brunette woman at the check-in counter of Maksim’s hotel.

Even if I hadn’t seen her in the multiple surveillance updates Konstantine compiled on Zoya’s trek across the country, the image makes it obvious that they’re close.

After a deliberation not long enough to truly determine where my loyalties should lie, and a quick scroll through the information Konstantine forwarded about Dr. Hoffman, I lock eyes with Maksim and say, “She is on the list. But…” I’ve never seen a man more desperate for an out than the one sitting across from me. “Something seems off with her inclusion.” My gut announces this… and perhaps the orifice in my chest I thought would never return to is pre-black sludge days.

Maksim appears seconds from demanding answers by the removal of fingers, but I realize I’m not the only one with a bead-like device in my ear when he slants his head for the quickest second before he wraps up our meeting with a quick-worded snap. “I need to take this.” When I don’t immediately jump to the command in his tone, he adds, “In private.”

Since the interruption occurs at the same time I spot Mikhail walking Zoya to the hotel’s elevators, I nod in understanding before exiting his office.

Konstantine’s deep timbre rumbles through my earpiece two seconds later. “We got someone piggybacking off our feed. Want me to force them out?”

I stray my eyes to Maksim’s office for the quickest second before shaking my head. He’s so immersed in watching whatever is playing on his laptop that it will take his hacker longer to realize Konstantine is returning the favor than learning our system isn’t the one he should be infiltrating.

If his crew wants information, they need to immerse themselves deep in the federation’s bowels.

“Are you sure?” Konstantine asks, obviously having eyes on me since I didn’t vocalize my reply.

“No,” I answer, once again taking the honesty route. “But you should be used to that by now, right?”

I steal his chance to reply by removing the bead from my ear, dropping it to the ground, and then crushing it under my shoe with the first step I take in Mikhail’s direction.

Another battle is in my sights, and it is far more appealing.

I just need to settle my brother’s confusion first.

Mikhail looks set to unload a lengthy interrogation on me, but since I have far better ways to occupy my time while Zakhar sleeps, I butt in. “Why is she here?”

I assumed Zoya was in this part of the Trudny District for me. She has the gall to put any man in his place—even one as cocky as me. I was proven wrong when her taxi veered west upon exiting the airport instead of south.

Although Zoya is the best person for me to seek answers from, once again, I have better ways to occupy the time I didn’t know I desperately needed until I saw her in the flesh for the first time in weeks.

“She wouldn’t say,” Mikhail discloses, tightening my jaw. “But she seemed genuinely surprised to see me here, so I doubt she knew this is your home turf until I told her.” His chuckle pisses me off, though not as much as what he says next. “She wanted me to tell you that she is only here for three nights, and that she will stay out of your hair if you agree to do the same.” The remainder of his reply matches the thoughts in my head. “I told her there was a fat chance of that happening but I’d pass on the message.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but when several seconds pass in silence, I ask, “Did she mention Zak?”

He shifts from foot to foot before scrubbing at the stubble on his chin. “No. Which seems a little odd.”

I don’t agree with him. Zoya is loyal to a fault. She’s had plenty of opportunities over the past several weeks to air my dirty laundry for the world to see, but she hasn’t told a soul.

Not even her best friend knows about us.

My tight jaw firms more when Mikhail asks, “Do you know Dad tried to bribe her to stay away from us?”

I almost say, “From me,” but my focus shifts elsewhere when the side profile of a guest sliding out of a blacked-out SUV near the valet registers as familiar. You can’t miss the large scar along one side of his jaw.

His name hogs the number one spot on the hitlist I handed Maksim earlier, so why the fuck is he walking into this hotel like there isn’t a bounty on his head?

A hundred theories run through my head. Only one is legitimate. He’s here because whatever he is seeking is far more important than his life. That can only mean one thing.

He’s here on the federation’s behalf.

Fuck.

Maksim’s glare is the strongest to date when I enter his office without knocking. I don’t know the identity of the woman who moans his name a second before he slams down his laptop screen, but it keeps his eyes off the prize long enough for the hired goon in the lobby to peer in our direction. His eyes widen to the size of saucers when he spots my watch before he sprints for the exit faster than Maksim can advise his security team to stop him.