Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“I’m Kira.” She reaches for the bag from the nearby bagel shop and flashes him a smile that makes me want to punch the guy’s teeth out.
I glower until he leaves, watching until he’s completely out of sight.
Kira’s already digging through the bag. “If you give me your keycard, I can go and get a couple of plates.”
I reach in and take a bagel. “No need. You go up and enjoy. I need to stay at my station for a few hours.”
“Okay.” She looks so lovely in the morning sunlight, her pale skin set off by those coral lips. Her cornsilk hair swept across her shoulders. I put a knuckle under her chin to nudge it higher and brush my lips across hers.
I suppose I’ve kissed women before. But the majority of my experience came from the whores back at my cell in Moscow. Never someone I wanted to impress. Or cared about.
So this feels like a first kiss to me.
It’s the first time I’ve had a beautiful woman looking up at me with gratitude. The first time I’ve expressed my attachment through the bond of our lips. She stills for it. Moves hers softly against mine.
I don’t ask for more. It’s not the time. We have funeral arrangements to make. She needs to eat. I have to work.
Still, I want another taste. I steal another kiss. A deeper one. No tongue, but my lips slant over hers, sealing my promise to help her.
When I break it, she’s leaning into me, her skin flushed with color, eyes brightened in contrast.
“Um. Okay.” She gives a breathy laugh. “I’ll be in your apartment.”
I hand her my keycard. “It’s 303,” I tell her, in case she didn’t take note of the apartment number.
“Yep. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I ignore the stirrings produced by the thought of having her up in my apartment. The sense of pride it produces. Of possessiveness. Like she belongs to me now.
Which, obviously, isn’t even remotely the case.
Besides, I already know what happens when you get attached to a woman, and then she leaves. I’d be a fool to allow myself any feelings when it comes to my lovely warrior.
She’s not mine, and she’s not staying.
But if I did pick a woman to be mine, it would be one just like her…
Kira
I dump the bagel bag out on Maykl’s kitchen counter. I find a small plastic envelope bundled inside the napkins that contains a dozen tiny listening devices. They each have an adhesive backing, making them easy to stick in the locations I choose.
Things could not go more perfectly.
Opening up to Maykl last night was the right move. If I forget about my embarrassing and obvious attempt to seduce him, I played everything else just right. I’m now totally in with Maykl. I can stay in his apartment. He’s going to bring me upstairs to see his pakhan.
And on top of that, he seems to want to help me with Anya’s funeral arrangements.
Which is…unexpected. And sweet.
A stab of guilt runs through me at my deceit. I’m taking advantage of his kindness.
But the bratva takes advantage of innocents all the time. On a daily basis, I’m sure. I’m sorry because it seems Maykl is one of the few decent ones, but I can’t let that stop me from my mission.
The FBI needs intel on the bratva, and in return, they will help me find Mika.
That’s all that matters here.
I remove the listening devices from the plastic bag and drop them loose into my pocket, so they are easy to grab. I have the opportunity to scatter them throughout the building now, but not without first disabling the security feed, and I can’t do that while Maykl’s on duty. Maybe tonight, after he’s asleep. But I’ll keep them on me, so if I see an opportunity to plant one, I can.
I give Stepanov a call, even though it’s late evening in Moscow.
“Did you get the bugs?”
“Yes, sir. I have them, and I should have the opportunity to plant them in the pakhan’s office sometime later today.”
“Excellent. Good work, Koslova.” My supervisor sounds exuberant–almost more enthusiastic with his praise than normal. Maybe he believes impressing the FBI will somehow bring him esteem. “I’m sure with you in that building, they will be able to get all the information they need to bring down the cell. I may fly out myself to facilitate things.”
I pause to absorb that. “Really, sir?”
“I don’t like the idea of you in there without backup. Even if I can’t be in the building with you, I’d like to be available for regular reporting.”
Something about that sounds wrong. Is he using this as an excuse to work closely with me? Does he still harbor some kind of interest in me that extends beyond my position?
“They are running your nephew’s name through the database now. Their databases are more extensive than the Chicago police department. If your nephew is alive, we should be able to find him now.”