Page 62 of Assassin: Part 1

“I… I have never betrayed you, Pakhan. O-O-Oleg he told me to go and infiltrate the Belov home. That is what I did. I-I-I w-a-a-s supposed to give information to make them think they were getting the real details. T-t-that’s all I did. I swear.”

Oleg’s face is stony as he glares at the man hanging in chains, blood dripping steadily beneath him. If it was up to Oleg, he’d tear him apart, but I’m not ready to give him the okay for that just yet.

I need answers first. “And what information did Oleg instruct you to give him?”

The light comes fast in his eyes. A small kernel of hope. Fool.

“He… Well, it wasn’t him exactly. It was Martin. He told me to tell Simeon about what happened at the warehouse to warn him off. Especially since it was found right away. You know, so he didn’t try something like that himself.” He licks his lips. “You see, Pakhan? It was on Oleg’s orders.”

“Oleg would never do something so stupid,” I hiss. I step forward, gripping him by the face, and he cries out. “And you will pay for that with your life.” Stepping back, I nod at Oleg, ignoring the wailing pleas coming behind me. “Make him suffer.” Zakhar pouts that he doesn’t get another turn, even with his knuckles scraped and bleeding. “Find Martin. I want answers.”

Zakhar perks up. “Done.”

I don’t wait around to hear the slug die—he’s not worth any more of my time—but I’m not finished with finding out if there are any more leaks needing to be plugged.

I stalk to my office, Freya falling into step with me. I give her an absent scratch behind the ear, earning me a thankful bump of her nose.

I never thought having a wolf would be something I would enjoy, but Freya has proved me wrong. Oleg has a bond with her that the rest of us don’t, but she respects us, and she’s excellent with Mila when she’s around. Hell, half the time, I scold my niece for treating her like a damn pet dog and not a working animal that needs to stay sharp.

Not that she ever listens to me.

Which reminds me, I need to check in with the school to ensure everything is fine there. The best security will keep her safe if things escalate in this upcoming war with Timur.

Despite what Simeon wants to believe, his father will not go down without a fight, and the battle will be long and bloody. I will leave nothing to chance with Mila and her future. Oleg will be the one to get to her if things go sideways and something happens to me and Zakhar. He’s the only other person we trust with her safety. He’ll ensure nothing ever happens to her.

I should head to my office, but instead, I find myself heading back up to my bedroom. The one I won’t be sleeping in tonight.

The room still smells of smoke despite the cleaning crew’s best attempts to clear it out. I should be pissed as I stare at the now-empty bedframe. The restraints lay in a disheveled pile near the bathroom. A new mattress will be in here before long, but neither Zakhar nor Oleg is willing to consider me staying in this room. Not as long as my stalker is out there and able to get into the house.

Hell, I’m surprised Zakhar hasn’t put me in the bunker. Though it’s probably not far off if anything else happens.

I really should be furious. Or at least be sending out every available man to find her, but I already know I won’t. I’ve been looking for her for years, and here I am, left behind again, looking like a fool. Balls empty, but nearly burned in my own bed, cock covered in powder and all that other shit she had.

Still, I want to find her and lock her away for myself.

I shake my head and snort softly. If anyone saw me now, acting this way, they’d agree I’ve lost my damn mind.

What kind of man allows such bullshit to keep happening? Letting his cock run the show? Fuck, I’m an idiot. And whatever else Zakhar can think up. He’s surprisingly creative at these things.

The image of her restrained, ass up, and begging for me flashes in my mind, and the anger is quickly mixed with desire.

Even now, I want her.

I really am stupid.

I spin on my heel and stalk out, refusing to give her another thought. I’m done. This is not the man I’ve built myself to be. The one I’ve honed each and every damn day since our father died and I was named as the new Pakhan. The one who expanded his father’s territory beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

The one who will be the most feared on the West Coast of North America if I have my way.

I head to my office. It’s time I got back to work.

Sitting at my desk, I frown when I see the waiting email, a warning blaring in my head before I open it. The subject line puts me on alert.

Subject: The plan.

Simple, short, but carrying so much weight, I’m almost not sure what I’m going to read.

The more I do, the narrower my eyes get. At least this guy is short and to the point.