Page 56

Reznikov glanced toward the rain-streaked glass. The security detail across the street reported clear rooftops through my earpiece, but fear sharpened every line of his body. He dragged in a breath that shook on the way out. “Sokolov spent years⁠—”

The window shattered. A dark spot appeared high on Reznikov's chest before I drove Anika down behind the desk. A second muted crack reached us, and Maksim fired while Kirill ripped open the door and ordered our men into the opposite building. Reznikov staggered backward with blood spreading beneath his hand.

I kept my body over Anika until Maksim confirmed the shooter had gone dark. Kirill dragged Reznikov below the window, but the doctor's knees folded before he reached cover.

I crossed the space and clamped both hands over the wound. Blood flooded through them far too fast, and the doctor’s eyes were already glazing over, blood trickling from his mouth.

“Stay with me.” I increased the pressure while Anika dropped beside us and shoved a mass of cloth that I realized was her coat over the wound. I could tell her it wouldn’t matter, but the coat was already covered in blood. “Finish what you were telling us.”

Reznikov's hand closed around my wrist. His eyes found Anika, then moved past her. His lips moved, and I lowered my head until I could catch the whisper scraping out with his final breath. “The masquerade was all a setup.”

27

KIRILL

Every time we made progress toward the truth, someone died. It was beginning to feel like one massive clusterfuck after another. This time, we’d lost the doctor. Who would go next?

I tossed back a gulp of whiskey, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and slammed the glass on the table.

We’d made it back to the safe house in record time, and I’d left Maksim to deal with the fuckups on the roof who’d allowed a sniper to shoot directly into the room, right into the fucking window their Pakhan had been standing in front of seconds before the shot was fired.

My fingers curled, a tremble running up my arms and across my shoulders. We’d had a lot of close calls through the years, but they’d never affected me like this.

Roman had taken Anika to clean up since the two of them were covered in blood, leaving me to the inspiring task of finding out what the hell the doctor had meant about the masquerade being a setup. Groaning and spearing my fingers through my hair, I stalked to the sideboard, poured another drink, then grabbed my laptop and retreated to the table.

By the time Roman, Anika, and Maksim joined me, I’d scoured a shitload of information and started a running tally of new data. “Sokolov funded the masquerade.” I pointed my freshly poured whiskey at the screen. No need in leading up to any of it when I had the fucking information right in front of me.

Roman put his arm around Anika’s shoulders and kissed her temple before pulling out a chair for her, the two of them joining me.

Maksim poured a drink and stood at the bar, sipping it.

I lifted mine in a toast. “Did any of them survive?”

His shoulder twitched, gaze darting to Anika. “The situation is still under review.”

Which meant he hadn’t decided whether every man who’d failed us on that roof would die or not. Damn. Maybe Anika was making us soft. I didn’t exactly mind the change as long as we didn’t allow others to take advantage of our new situation. Like Sokolov no doubt intended.

Maksim sipped his whiskey and sat across from me. “Walk us through what you found.”

“Get your dump truck ready, Anika.” I took a deep breath and laid it all out for them. “The entire event was financed through a shell company owned by Sokolov years before anyone noticed his influence. It’s one of those shitty places that no one really looks into. But finding it led me to a money trail that I followed all the way through. He paid for the guest list, surveillance systems, the staff.” I paused for a drink and braced for the fuckery about to explode. “He even manipulated the room arrangements. He knew exactly where we’d be when we took Anika upstairs.”

Curses burst through the air from all three of them at the same time. I sat back and enjoyed my drink. I’d had my fair share of cursing and punching shit while I went through the files and waited on them. I had it out of my system, but it was almost as cathartic to watch them lose their shit as it had been to lose mine.

Roman and Maksim came to the same conclusion I had at the same time. I saw it come over their faces, the stark realization that the masquerade was only the beginning.

“That lying, motherfucking asshole.” Roman pounded a fist onto the table, the outburst and show of anger so out of character for him that Anika raised her eyebrows, then took his hand in both of hers and held on. “The masquerade. It was all about the masquerade all along.”

“How so?” Anika’s hand tightened around Roman’s, her gaze shooting around the room. “What am I missing?”

“Sokolov was behind it all from the beginning.” I motioned at the computer screen, wishing it was the man’s face so I could pummel it. “He set the whole thing up. He knew we’d be there. In fact, he knew everyone who would be there, because he initiated the invitations. I’m running a hack on some encrypted files now. I want the list. And I bet my favorite car that Sokolov forced Alina to send you to us. He probably initiated the first contact that had us talking to her, then guided things from his side, pulling all the strings.”

“That means he’s been playing a long game this whole time.” Maksim finished his drink and set the glass aside. “Fucking hell. Everything started at the masquerade. That was his first move.”

First, but it definitely hadn’t been his last. Anika paled by degrees, then her temper kicked in and anger tightened her features. “That asshole. Maksim, get that steamroller ready, because I am mowing this motherfucker down.”

Roman squeezed her fingers, a tiny smile appearing when she continued to fume. That was what we needed. We needed anger instead of fear. Anger helped us keep a clear head, unlike with many people who let it control them. We knew the scope of the problem now. All we had to do was figure out his end game and take the lead, cutting him off from his goal.

My computer pinged, signaling it had found something. A few clicks while they all scooted in around me and I had a spreadsheet of names filling page after page. The masquerade's strict anonymity placed aliases on every list, but a second file showed every real name behind the alias. Our names captured my attention first, but I couldn’t let myself linger. I scanned the first page, then the second.