Chapter Five
Two years later
Los Angeles, California
A little laughter echoed in his ear.
Mikhail loved the sound of it. Hell, it had been his obsession for two years. But his fingers curled into a fist—she wasn’t laughing at a joke he made. Not with him. She wasn’t with female friends or laughing at some comedy clip. No. His little minx was giggling warmly at the lame jokes of some soon-to-be-dead male coworker who was clearly flirting.
He clenched his fist tighter. It had always been his habit, listening to her. He raised his hand to the tiny hearing device hitched in his ear.
"I’ll pick you up by seven, that okay?" the man asked, his voice trembling with excitement like he’d just won the lottery.
Amy must have nodded because Mikhail didn’t hear a verbal response. Just a pleased, "Perfect," from the fool.
With slow, deliberate movements, Mikhail removed the tiny listening device from his ear. He stood and walked to the wine cabinet in the corner of his LA office.
He uncorked a bottle of whiskey—something he rarely drank, but he needed that if he didn't want to have the blood of some pathetic man hitting on his wife. So he poured the wine into a crystal glass. His right hand curled around the drink, his other slipped into the pocket of his black suit, his face unreadable. Except for the flicker of rage simmering in his eyes.
Two years of watching Amy, his wife, live under the illusion of freedom. She had believed she escaped the night of their wedding. Believed he would quietly accept the signed divorce papers she left on the bed, beside a check for three million dollars, as if he could be paid off.
A tiny scoff escaped his lips. He remembered the call from his men that night.
"She’s leaving the hotel, sir."
His lips had curved faintly.
"Let her."
He was aware of her desires to live away from her father's shadow. So he let her have that. He would let her have anything. Mikhail Volkov didn’t cage what belonged to him, not like her father did. So for two years, he let her spread her wings.
Now it was his turn to bring her back to where she rightfully belonged. His side.
He had taken the money, of course. A wedding gift, as he called it—though the wires that came with it had kept her close. She didn’t know the company she worked for was his now. Didn’t know he had been shifting operations to LA just to remain within arm’s reach. Didn’t know the job she fought tooth and nail to keep had been quietly curated for her.
He had walked her home countless nights. Watched her sleep. Stolen into her apartment when she was out—sometimes when she wasn’t. He’d never touched her. But he memorized her breathing. He knew her shampoo. He knew when she cried. He knew everything about her. Every damn thing.
And he let her be.
Until now.
Daniel entered with a knock, breaking the silence. Mikhail turned from the wine bar, taking the file his most trusted man extended.
“New movement on Silver Williams. Drugs. Outskirts of Kazan. His men were caught off-guard.”
Mikhail raised a brow, the cold light hitting the sharp angles of his face. “He’s in my territory now?”
Now Silver thinks he could do his shady business in his territory because they were now some sort of family? What gave that old bastard the guts to do such a thing, without even asking?
Daniel nodded once. “Should we kill him?”
Mikhail was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, “No. Not yet. I won’t do that to Amy.”
His jaw tightened as he stared at the names inside. Silver’s sins had stacked far too high. Any other man would be dead already. He had held back because of Amy. Funny how he could hold back for someone.
"Eliminate everyone who ever did business with Williams in Russia. Everyone."
Daniel gave a tight nod.
"Drag the old bastard down to the Brevta. Let Collin handle him.”
“Yes sir.”
Daniel turned and was almost at the door when Mikhail stopped him.
"Check every cinema in Los Angeles. Book all of them."
Daniel paused, blinking. "You want to watch a movie, sir?"
Mikhail’s glare could’ve frozen fire.
"No."
That bastard invited his wife to a movie. Gave her a ticket. Played the gallant fool. So he would make sure there would be no cinema available in LA tonight. And not only that—he would have her to himself if she badly wanted to watch a movie.
Daniel understood.
It was about her. As always.
"Do you need anything else, sir?” he asked again.
“Have J&K send over a representative to talk on the new project I’ll be funding. Today.”
Daniel’s brows lifted slightly. J & K was already his. Bought overnight. Strong-armed from the previous owner. So this sudden meeting…
“Any specific representative?”
Mikhail’s lips curled.
"Cassie Riverdale."
“Cassie!”
Amy turned, stretching her head toward the voice of her female boss—the one everyone at the company wished could vanish.
She had learned to embrace her new identity. Her new life as Cassie Riverdale.
Richard had just left the side of her desk after asking her out on a movie date. She smiled, happy to finally let herself have the freedom she’d always wished for.
“Yes, Mrs. Lawrence?” she answered cautiously.
The older woman in her early forties strode toward her fast and sharp, her coffee-brown eyes sweeping over Amy like a storm. Something was off. Everyone’s attention was on them.
Had she done something wrong? Was she getting fired right in front of everyone?
Her fingers itched to clasp each other for comfort, but she stood straighter, ready to take any blow.
"Why would he want you specifically?" Mrs. Lawrence hissed under her breath, shaking her head in clear irritation. "Out of everyone here, Helena, Kylie, Piper, you’re the one he asks for?"
Amy blinked. "I… I don’t know what you mean. Who asked for me?"
She scoffed and shoved a file into her hand
“Whatever,” Mrs. Lawrence cut in, waving a hand dismissively. “Pick up all the things you need. And this file—it's the project we need funds for.”
Gasps echoed softly across the floor.
Amy reached out and took the file. "Wait—me? Why me?”
Confusion swirled in her chest.
Why her? This project was major. There had been a separate briefing for it—one she hadn’t even been included in. Helena was obviously meant to handle it.
And speaking of Helena...
She was glaring across the room, file in hand, rage practically radiating from her as she stomped forward.
“You know what your fate will be if that project flops,” Mrs. Lawrence said lowly. “Get him to fund it. I don’t care what you do to make it happen, just don’t screw this up.”
Amy’s thoughts were disoriented now. Her stomach twisted. Who was he?
She hadn't been trained for this. She wasn’t briefed. Why would anyone want her?
“I… I get it, Mrs. Lawrence. I’ll go through it properly and deliver a great job.”
Mrs. Lawrence nodded. “Good. Now get going. A ride is waiting for you outside.”
Amy raised her head sharply from the file, blinking repeatedly. Her throat dried.
What ride? What's this woman talking about suddenly?
“Where am I going?” she asked, her confusion pouring out. Helena had reached them now, heat burning off her.
“To get that project funded,” Mrs. Lawrence snapped. “He doesn’t like being kept waiting. He asked for it now, that means you have limited time. Now move, before I make us both regret it!”
“Yesss… su… sure...” Amy replied quietly, dread slowly spreading in her chest.
She hadn’t even read the file. She doesn't know what it entails. Yet someone had asked for her specifically? Who? Why?
Dread swelled in her. This person shouldn't be her family from Chicago. She had been so careful, extremely careful hiding away from them.
She picked up everything she believed she would need and turned toward the elevator, brushing past Helena.
Helena’s shoulder slammed into hers, a deliberate act from the blond girl swelling in anger.
“What did you just do?” Helena spat, her voice tight with venom. “That was mine, Gina.”
“Well, it’s now someone else's.” That was the last thing Amy heard before the elevator doors closed.
