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“Who?” I asked, feigning ignorance, I shifted in my chair as my erection refused to subside.
“The Brooke girl,” he said keenly.
I laughed dismissively but Savic didn't see anything funny. He pressed on. “Be careful. You're playing a game that will not end well.” Savic sighed, “Her father is…”
“I know very well who her father is, Savic,” I interrupted him.
“Then you're aware that he’ll never allow this …whatever this is, as long as he lives.” The slight pause came when Savic thought for a second about what he would call my little adventure with Ashley.
“Then I really will kill him. Or better still, when he finds out, that might send him to his grave,” I teased and chuckled at my own joke, and Savic joined in the laughter.
I reached into the drawer; my fingers closed around the smooth packet of Dunhill cigarettes. A cigarette was the only thing that could calm my excitement and distract me from my obsession with her.
“I'm only looking out for you, for the Bratva,” Savic said, relaxing in his chair.
“I know and I appreciate that. I do. But trust me, I know what I'm doing.” I tore open the seal and released a rich aroma of premium tobacco that filled the air. I took a cigarette out of the pack and lit a lighter, the flame flickering and giving off a warm glow.
When I held the flame to the end of the cigarette, it ignited and emitted a fragrant cloud of smoke. The unmistakable scent of the Dunhill blend, mixed with a hint of fine paper and subtle spices, permeated the room, exuding an atmosphere of sophistication and indulgence.
I took a drag and seconds later a cloud of smoke rose, and I relaxed.
“Tell me, Savic. What's the update on the Jonathan situation?” I inquired.
He leaned closer, both hands resting on the table between us. “Well…” he began, “Whoever attacked Jonathan was not one of our men. An outsider, possibly,” he said to me.
“An outsider?” My brows rose reflexively, “Do we have any leads?” I released another puff of smoke.
“Not really,” he replied, “But we have narrowed down a list of potential suspects, those who would benefit from Jonathan's demise,” he added almost immediately. “As I said, they're all just suspects for now. We don't know for certain. At least not yet anyway.”
“Who are they?” I asked, curious to know which of Jonathan's board members would hate him enough to launch an attack on him even in his present state.
Savic paused, then leaned in, “Scott Alan, for one. He's been eyeing Jonathan's territory for months. And then there's Jason Finch always looking to expand his businesses.”
“Interesting.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Have our men gotten any leads?”
Savic shook his head and said, “They're working tirelessly, Nikolai. Gathering information. Once we have more feedback, we'll find out who the attacker was.”
I sighed, “Keep me updated, Savic.” I got to my feet and walked toward the door. As I slipped into my jacket, Savic asked: “What will you do when you find the man responsible for the attack on Jonathan?” He looked up at me, waiting for my reply. A reply that never came.
I grinned wryly and walked away, consoling myself with the horrors I would unleash on whoever had the misfortune to dare worry my dear Ashley about her father's safety.
I couldn't care less about Jonathan, but Ashley's enemy was now my enemy too. Anyone who so much as made her miserable would suffer the consequences.
Chapter 7 - Ashley
The twin doors opened as I ran through the hallway, my heels clacking on the tiled floor. I didn't mind the stares from those sitting on the benches on either side of the corridor.
Admiration or astonishment, I had no time to decipher—was there something on my face? Was my dress torn in a place I couldn't see, or did I just look awkward walking like this? I pushed the useless thoughts aside and rushed into the ward where my father lay.
The electrocardiogram was beeping steadily on the side of his bed. I recognized that sound, that low beep, and I knew what it meant. My dad was out of danger, at least for now.
“How is he?” I asked the nurse who was standing over him, scribbling something on the notepad in her hand.
“He's stable now,” she replied, lowering the notepad as she turned to look at me.
Thank God!
A sigh of relief came forth as I slowly advanced toward his bed. I'd seen his eyes flutter, and I knew he was regaining consciousness.
