"Why?" I ask. He is already aware that we've taken Lucy as a prisoner and that she trespassed onto his property. Is there other information he has that I'm unaware of regarding Lucy?
Luka's gaze doesn't flinch, and I get the impression that asking Luka isn't going to help my cause. "Right," I mutter and head down the hallway. I glance back at Luka over my shoulder. "No one else interrogates the prisoner but me!" I don't want anyone else getting close to Lucy.
She's mine.
Mikhail is in his office, and I offer a firm knock as I enter. He's sitting behind his desk, his attention drawn toward his laptop.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask.
"Come in, close the door, would you?"
I shut the door behind myself and sit across from him on the black leather chair opposite his desk. "The girl is detained downstairs," I say, reassuring him that his family is safe.
"Anton mentioned that she was the girl from the club last night."
Nothing gets by Mikhail. "Yes, I spilled her drink on her dress last night."
He smirks all too knowingly. "Which I'm sure she planned. Is she the one responsible for your missing key?"
"Yes, she had the key in her possession." I retrieve it from my pants pocket, showing it to Mikhail.
"I'm having the entire compound rekeyed and additional locks put onto the main doors for added security."
I don't bother to ask if that's necessary. Mikhail is in charge. What he says goes. "And what about the fence?" That was where she'd gained entry. Lucy had been brought into the compound because I carried her inside after the incident. But her appearance on the property had been a surprise.
"I will be hiring contractors to change the fencing and secure the property. The cost will be coming out of your pay."
My mouth is dry. It's not wise to argue with the Pakhan. "Of course, sir." At least I live under his roof. The additional money is quite generous but not a necessity for survival. I've done well to save enough funds that losing a paycheck or two would not be catastrophic.
"Anton will be running background on any debts she may have and if she's recently taken any funds from any illicit sources."
"Do you suspect the cartel?"
Lucy is working with someone. I'm just not sure whom she's helping or why. I didn't notice a ring on her finger, but that doesn't mean she's not already spoken for. She could be married to one of the cartel's members, or the mafia. However, I've never seen her before last night.
"I suspect everyone," Mikhail says. "It would be wise to interrogate the girl, find out what she knows and whom she's working for."
"Whomever she's working for, it's not out of loyalty." There's something about Lucy that feels genuine when I'm around her; at least it was last night at the bar. She could have played me, seduced me, and distracted me.
I'd been neglectful in leaving my keys on the desk, allowing her to steal from me. Would she have snatched them from my pocket if I had not been so careless? It's unlikely she's any good as a pickpocket, or she'd have swiped them down in the club and avoided spending a minute alone with me.
"You suspect blackmail."
"I spent enough time with her in the club that I'm confident she isn't here because she wants to be. Someone has something on her."
"That's possible. We'll see if Anton finds anything when he runs background. You've already established a rapport with the prisoner. I want you to handle the interrogation."
"That's appreciated." The thought of Luka or Dmitri in the prison cell with her sends my pulse racing. I need to be the one demanding that she spills her secrets after what she did. She owes me the truth and nothing short of it.
Mikhail is finished, and I stand, heading for the door.
Luka is gone, not that I should expect him to wait around. He has other matters to attend to, including his proposal to Hannah, which didn't go according to plan. But he's not a man to give up, not when it comes to his family and the love of his life.
I never thought I'd see that man settle down and start a family. However, it wasn't like he planned any of it.
Me, I'm not the least bit interested in a romantic relationship. There are already enough kids running around the compound; the quietness was fleeting after Aleksandra left with her twins, Sophia and Liam.
Aleksandra is Mikhail's baby sister and a heavy dose of trouble. I used to take those twins to school, but heaven help me if I had to babysit them. I'm not great with kids. I can't stand their sticky hands and constant whining to be entertained. When I was a child, no adult spent hours pretending to be interested in silly games.
I'm not cut out to be a parent. I don't claim to like kids. I deal with them like one manages a pet, with food and water, and I'd let them roam free in the yard.
It's probably why Hannah hasn't asked me to look after Bay, and Madisyn doesn't want me anywhere near Kira. Perfect.
I have enough work to do, with Mikhail giving orders at all hours of the night. I swear the man doesn't get a wink of sleep. Not that I do much better.
Heading for the basement, I unlock the door and open it, stomping down the stairs. My shoes click against the stones. The hallway is dimly lit, but the prison down below is brightly lit. It's intentional, making it difficult for a prisoner to sleep or know how much time has passed. There are no windows in the basement.
And the prison itself is soundproof from the remainder of the compound to ensure that no one can hear what's being done to the captive. It used to be a nice feature; it kept out the annoying sounds of brutal interrogations, but now, with children running around the main floor, it's best they don't know what's happening in the basement.
The door is always kept locked. Not that we are concerned that a prisoner might escape. It's quite the opposite. None of us wants the children or their mothers to wander down uninvited into the cold cells and discover what it is we are required to do.
Madisyn isn't oblivious to the task at hand; she is formerly FBI. Hannah, a nurse at Steele Concierge Medical, hasn't seen the viciousness required of our men, and we all prefer to keep it that way.
Such harshness can't be unseen or heard.
Lucy sits on the floor, her legs crossed and her hands resting on her knees, palms down. She appears far calmer than any prisoner I've witnessed in our cells.
Her eyes are shut, and the girl looks peaceful as fuck.
Is she meditating?
This isn't supposed to be a vacation where she can relax and unwind.
"Get up!" I snap, and her eyes flash open.
She stares at me with menacing annoyance. Is it because I interrupted her ritual? Well, good. She's here as a prisoner. Lucy ought to be groveling and apologizing, begging for her freedom.
I don't like this side of her, unconcerned. She doesn't appear the least bit worried about her captivity.
Why is that?
Who is she working for?
Does she think they'll save her?