my smile grow. “Not very empathetic, are we, Elena?”
She waved me off. “I have empathy.” She said it the same way one might say they had a new car or a good hairdresser. Like it was something to tick off a list and then move on with life.
The ability to be apathetic was imperative to building an empire, to ruling the Bratva and navigating our bloodthirsty world. However, the ability to have empathy was also very important. If you didn’t care for your people or your power, then what drove you?
I was tempted to ask Elena what drove her. The reason she got out of bed. Was it the fear of returning to Chicago, or something greater?
Before I could inquire, we reached our destination. The trees parted, revealing a long, modern building. Guards and their dogs roamed around the perimeter, straightening to attention as soon as they saw me.
“At ease,” I said, waving a hand at them. They returned to their positions.
Elena had paused, eyeing the building. She sniffed once, twice, before understanding reached her eyes. “A drug lab.”
“Our[S5] developmental facility.” I gestured her forward. “You said you needed a lab, didn’t you?”
“Not to manufacture cocaine, Konstantin,” she muttered but joined me in heading towards the building.
We passed through the security system, a pair bullet-proof doors that needed proof of identity to get past. Elena stuck close to me, her scent of myrrh and cinnamon tickling my nose. She scanned the hallways with curious eyes.
I leaned down to her ear, breath tickling her cheek. “Impressed?”
Elena jumped, spinning to give me a fierce glare. “It’s a drug lab,” she hissed. “I was more impressed with the orchard.”
“The orchard is hard to compete with, but perhaps this will change your mind.” I pushed open the last door, stepping into the main room.
Long and new, the inner workings of the lab stretched out before us. Tables illuminated by blue lights lined up and down the room, all dedicated to a specific job. In a separate room to the side, huge pots boiled, workers in hazmat suits supervising. From creation to packaging to money counting, the lifespan and distribution of the merchandise began here.
A few heads popped up as we entered, expressions behind masks and goggles widening in shock as they registered their boss.
I pressed hand to Elena’s back, urging her forward.
Elena stepped out of my grip and beelined for the closest table, her eyes roaming over the beakers and test tubes with an interest I had never seen her wear before.
The lady working at the station looked at me shyly, before glancing nervously at Elena. Filippa Kozlov, I recalled, Olezka’s younger cousin.
Elena reached out and pointed to a flask. “That’s too hot.”
In a moment of realization, Filippa quickly turned down the Bunsen burner, her cheeks turning as red as the flames. “Thank you,” she said.
Elena’s eyes continued to search the table greedily, seeing more than I did. She gestured to the chemicals Filippa was working with, “Do you mind…”
“Elena,” I said, holding up a pair of protective goggles. “It would be a shame if you damaged those pretty eyes of yours.”
She snatched the goggles from my grip, those very same eyes pointed at me in a glare. Hurrying, Elena pulled the goggles over her head, catching her hair in the process.
“Ow—crap—”
She tried to yank her hair out, but the action only made it worse.
“May I?”
Elena thinned her lips, holding the goggles awkwardly over her head. She must have been in a lot of pain from having her hair pulled because she relented, nodding sharply.
I stood behind her, gently untangling her silky brown hair from the clip.
“You can pull it,” she told me, voice tight. “I’ve got enough of it.”
“There is no need for that.” With one last soft tug, the hair came away, knotted but free.
I reached around her, positioning the goggles and buckling them securely.
Her breath caught.
My fingers didn’t move from her hair.
In front of me like this, shorter but still tall enough that I could grab her hips easily, I could push into her in one smooth movement, fuck her against this table, until all she knew how to say was my name.
“Thank you,” Elena muttered, her hand hovering over the back of her head. A second later, she stepped away, turning her attention back to Filippa.
Filippa only watched in fascination as Elena took over, her hands moving over the equipment expertly. Within moments, she had saved the chemical from destruction.
“I didn’t know you were a scientist, Elena,” I mused.