Lukas pulled his baseball cap off and turned it over nervously in his hands. Vlad felt a thrill of frustration looking at the other man. He needed an ally against Madison O’Connor, not a man whose professionalism fissured under pressure from a beautiful woman.
“Lukas Safin,” Lukas said. “I’ve worked closely with Vlad’s family for years. Sorry, I… thought we were all set here.”
“And just where do these cameras feed to, Mr. Safin?” Madison asked. “Because I certainly don’t see enough cord here to rig them up to the main system, much less assimilate the newer feeds with the old. Were you intending to install and operate these wirelessly? And just whose wireless were you—”
“I’ll take care of this,” Vlad interrupted. He shot a hand out to grab Madison by her bicep; she scoffed in protest realizing she was the this in question, but couldn’t find the words in time to rescue herself from being steered away from Lukas.
For his part, Lukas looked relieved to be getting back to his work. Vlad’s signature was enough for him to feel comfortable getting started. He bent to his bag, whistling, as Madison struggled to escape Vlad. He tightened the pressure on her arm in warning.
They went behind the column.
“Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable discussing the details of our business partnership,” he began to say.
“Take off your sunglasses,” Madison interrupted. The order surprised Vlad. It was certainly one of the last things he had expected her to say now that they were alone together.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I want to see what you’re really up to.” Madison canted her hip, resting her diminutive fist on the indent of her waist. Her posture immediately evoked ideas of all the things Vlad would be able to do with her if his hands replaced her own. “I want to see your eyes. And before you accuse me of being insipid, just remember that only one of us thinks he actually looks cool wearing them indoors.”
“You think I look cool. You don’t need to admit it out loud to me.” He complied all the same, removing the black matte lenses and tucking them inside his suit collar. He tried to mask an appreciative look now that he could see her in full, vivid color before him. Less than twenty-four hours and he had already forgotten how truly stunning she was to behold.
“Just how many of my employees and contractors are working for you?” Madison asked. It might have begun in her head as a rhetorical question, but she sounded desperate for an answer. Vlad knew what that desperation was like. It was waking up one morning to find everyone you thought you trusted lacked an alibi. It was discovering that even those closest to you weren’t who they seemed.
“The man you call Peter Franklin I know as Peter Fekhlachev,” Vlad said eventually. Madison crossed her arms, but this time she didn’t interrupt him. “He’s our organization’s legal contact and lawyer, and a trusted member of the Bratva in his own right. He’s the man who first found my father’s body and called the police.”
It was a fact of the case. He revealed nothing important in his investigation by telling her as much. If Madison O’Connor was at all involved in the circumstances surrounding Sergey’s death, she would have kept herself apprised of its developments from the beginning.
Of course, there remained the question of how far Peter’s own involvement extended. Before the unexpected meeting with Maxim last night, Peter would have ranked very high up on Vlad’s list of suspects; now, he wasn’t even sure the list had a hierarchy or a proper end to it.
“How did your father die exactly?” Madison wasn’t pulling any punches today. She did look slightly sorry for the tone of her question, though; her full lips drew together as she considered her next words. “I mean, I know he was murdered, but—”
“My father died brutally,” Vlad stated. “The back of his skull was staved in by an ice pick. The same one they found plunged into his chest and speared through his heart. There was blood everywhere, and other evidence of an intense struggle: broken furniture, an upset bookshelf. In the end, my father was no match for the individual who attacked him. I believe he knew his assailant.”
He watched Madison very carefully as he spoke. The look of horror that dawned across her expression as he described the scene seemed real enough. The hand that covered her mouth, seemingly unconsciously, was a nice touch.
“Oh. God,” she said.
“If there is a God, he wasn’t in the room with Sergey that day,” Vlad stated. It was something he had thought often, but never said out loud. He had certainly never expected to bare such a personal musing to Madison O’Connor. Her hand came away from her mouth, and he watched her unhappy frown twist in sympathy. That, he could use to his advantage now, too, even if it wasn’t his preferred approach. Whether she was faking it or not, she couldn’t back off now that he had bared a sliver of his soul to her.
“Let me make this installation,” Vlad pressed. “If not for the safety of both our investments, then for your own safety. Many people saw us together last night. If there is someone picking off Karevs, then their mercilessness might easily extend to those closest to them.”
“Close?” Madison repeated incredulously. Then she snorted. Vlad tried not to feel nettled by her disbelief; if there was one thing he was learning; it was that people could appear one way while being very different behind locked doors or screening columns. Whatever Madison thought of their relationship—whatever he thought—it meant little to the outside observer. If someone harboring a malicious will toward his family had seen them together last night, he could only guess at what they might have thought.
“Fine. Whatever.” Madison turned away from him. Lukas straightened from the cords he was untangling and smiled at her. Vlad thought he looked ridiculous, but said nothing. The encounter with Peter last night had been a rude enough awakening to his own capacities for jealousy. “It’s obvious you’re only doing this to spy on me,” Madison continued. “I better not find one of these in my office. If you wanted a second date, you could have just asked.”
Vlad felt his lips twist in a smile of amusement at her claim. “And what would your answer be if I did?” he asked.
“Hell, no.” Madison raised her pale wrist to check her watch. “I’m here long enough to open the gallery, and then I’m off. I’ve got personal stuff to deal with today. Peter will be coming around to check up on things later. He has a meeting with my mother. She hasn’t been well since my father made such an ill-advised decision to jump into bed with Sergey and I don’t want her to be under any more stress than she already is. She still has no idea what an unrepentant traitor he is, and I intend to keep it that way for now.”
“I’ll be sure to keep any revelations between us,” Vlad said. “I have a renewed respect for the fragility of mothers.”
“Don’t go anywhere near my mother, Vlad. I mean it, she hasn’t been feeling well,” Madison advised. Then she was gone, striding from the room with an agility Vlad found unbelievable considering the height of her heels. Her ass looked just as good, if not better, than it had yesterday. He remembered all too well how it had felt beneath his hand.
“So.” Lukas threw a freshly-untangled cord out in front of him. “You hit that? Because I was thinking…”
“I’m not paying you to think,” Vlad growled. His territorial instinct once more reared its ugly head, but this time he decided to embrace it. However, he decided to deal with Madison O’Connor, he was going to be the one to bring the fiery woman to her knees; either in confession, or in complete submission to the overwhelming desire between them.