Devil's Lair (Molotov Obsession #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,67

verified the info the security guard provided, and it all checks out. The operation is a go for tonight.”

“What’s taking so long? Your hackers usually come through within hours.”

He blinks behind the lenses of his glasses. “You’re still talking about the report on the girl?”

I grit my teeth. “What else?”

“My team’s been busy, and it’s not an easy task you’ve assigned them.”

“How so? All I’ve asked is for you to look into her mother’s death and her movements for the past month. How difficult is that? I know she’s been off the grid, but there’s got to be traffic cameras, gas station cam—”

“There seems to be some interference.” He sips his tea. “A few of the security tapes my guys have pulled have been damaged or wiped clean.”

I still. “Wiped clean?”

“A professional job, from the looks of it.” He sets down his cup. “You said she’s just a civilian, right? No affiliation?”

“None that I’m aware of,” I say evenly.

Is it possible?

Could she have fooled me?

Is sweet little Chloe involved with the mob… or worse, the government?

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I ask Konstantin, who, once again oblivious to the bombshell he’s delivered, is calmly spreading sundried tomato pesto on a piece of freshly baked rye bread. “Don’t you think it’s important for me to know?”

He bites into the bread and chews leisurely. “I’m telling you now,” he says after he swallows. “Besides, my guys only realized what’s going on last night. A couple of damaged tapes could be just shit luck. But several—that’s a pattern.”

“So let me get this clear. You’re telling me someone’s erasing all the security tapes where she appears.”

“Not all the tapes.” He reaches for another piece of bread. “My team’s been able to reconstruct her movements for the majority of the past month. Just certain tapes… ones I suspect may hold the answers you’re after.”

Fuck.

This is big.

I don’t know what I thought Konstantin’s hackers would uncover, but it wasn’t this.

A thought slithers into my mind, a suspicion so awful my stomach turns over. “Do you think it’s the—”

“Leonovs?” Konstantin sets down his bread. “I doubt it. My guys have come across their hackers’ work before, and this doesn’t feel like it.”

“Feel like it?”

Light glints off the lenses of his glasses. “It’s hard to explain to a non-techie, but yes. There’s a certain sloppiness to the way this was done that doesn’t fit the Leonovs.”

“I thought you said it was professionals.”

“There are different levels of professionalism. My guys are top notch, the Leonovs’ team isn’t far behind, and many are way, way worse. These guys are somewhere in the middle, which is why I think my team’s going to come through for you. They just need more time.”

I take a breath and let it out slowly. Just the possibility that Chloe could’ve been hired by my enemies is enough to spike my blood pressure. But Konstantin knows what he’s talking about, and if he doesn’t think it’s them, I have to lay that suspicion to rest for now. Besides, if the Leonovs knew enough to plant Chloe in my compound, I doubt they would’ve sent a guy on a motorcycle as a warning.

There would’ve been no warning, just straight-up war.

“About the biker,” I say. “Any luck tracking him down?”

“No. And that does have Leonov fingerprints all over it. If I had to guess, Alexei’s pissed that you’re here, interfering with his bid.”

“You’re probably right.” I fall silent as the waiter brings out our food. Once he leaves, I continue. “He must’ve found out about my meeting with the Commission head.”

“Valery’s doubling your security until then, just in case. Now”—Konstantin drizzles dressing onto his Greek salad—“let’s discuss your talking points for tomorrow.”

And as he goes over the technical specifications of our product, I do my best to focus on his words instead of the growing number of questions about Chloe and my increasing obsession with her.

37

Chloe

I’ve never felt as giddy as I do this Sunday. All day long, I catch myself smiling uncontrollably and walking around like I’m floating on a cloud. It’s embarrassing, really, but I can’t stop. Each time I think about last night’s call, my pulse races with excitement.

Nikolai wants me.

He misses me.

He wants us to be exclusive.

I feel like a teenager whose movie star crush just asked her out on a date. Which, in a way, is what’s happening.

Nikolai wants us to date, or more precisely, to be in a relationship.

It should seem crazy, and on some level, it does. We’ve known