Page 50 of The Bratva's Nanny
Lev’s bold input made her blink and look away. “Martin. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that.”
“It’s not Martin.”
He made a noise behind his throat. “It’s not Luke, Dead Roger, Captain Fleece, or Martin.”
“Because it’s not them.”
“Roman, you have a long list of people that want not only your head but your daughter’s, too. I know I don’t need to remind you, but you’ve stepped on a lot of toes. It could be anyone. This particular attack might not be anything special. Remember that one time when they planted that bomb at one of your restaurants in Moscow?”
That got Maria’s attention, though it didn’t linger long.
For a second, I mused on what he’d said. Lev wasn’t exaggerating: The list was a long one—from Moscow to Chicago to New York. I had a list of international fans, too, but those ones were death-threat lovers. My email suffered from numerous spam messages. But I disagreed.
“It’s not Martin.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Your point?”
“The restaurant bomb, the death threats, the ambush on Wall Street, even the fucking Feds. You see, all of that is normal. Kidnapping Polly? Now, that doesn’t happen every day. It’s deliberate. The decision to take my daughter was made by someone who’s got a lot more than balls and resources. It’s bigger than a revenge ploy. The attacks are personal. Very, very personal. Whoever it is wants to hurt me badly.”
He remained quiet, pondering on it. “That’s a solid point.”
I straightened in my seat with clasped fingers. “Plus, the last time I made a check-in, Martin was still in the hospital. He doesn’t have the men or the resources to pull that off.”
Lev hummed and closed one of the yellow files. “So, Martin is officially off the list.”
“I know him,” she piped up, and we focused on her.
When neither of us said anything, she wet her lips and repeated, “The man who tried to take Polly that day, the man who attacked me...I know him. His name is Finn Jameson. He’s the man my father owed money.” She looked at me, her eyes softening just a bit. “The debt I had to repay, it was to him.”
“Well, that’s something solid.” Lev eyed me. “At least we have a lead now. Finn Jameson. Having one name can help us find out more about who could be behind it.”
While they talked, I was thinking, and none of it made any sense. I held up a hand, and their conversation dropped. I gave Lev a look, and he immediately understood it. Something wasn’t right. “I’ve never had to deal with a Finn Jameson before. Lev?”
“Nope. I’ve got a good memory. If we had a Finn Jameson or even a descendant with that name in Level One, I’d know.”
“Then, how?”
He offered, carelessly shrugging his shoulders and stroking his chin, “Maybe you’ve stepped on toes that stepped on his?”
I rolled my eyes. “We would know.”
“True. We would.”
Another detail upset my thoughts, and I asked him, “The money?”
He caught on. “Had Avian send it through a ghost account with that warning note you scripted.”
Then, it was absolute: None of it made sense. If Lev had the financial secretary pay off Maria’s debt through a ghost account, there was no way an idiot like that could have traced the strange deposit to a Varkov.
Across the desk, Lev pushed his chair back and gathered the files. “Sitting around isn’t going to get you any answers. I’m going to work.”
With one fleeting, knowing look between me and Maria, he fixed the files under an arm, stuck a cigarette between his lips, and was out of the office in seconds.
The moment the door clicked shut, Maria crossed her seat and stood by my side, glaring daggers.
She clenched her jaw, hardened her eyes, and hissed, “Get one thing clear: I don’t belong to you.”
I inclined back on my seat with a raised brow. Deep down, I was proud. She deserved some accolades for not going off on me in the presence of Lev. I recognized that trait anywhere—respect.