35
ANTON
I leave Jessa wrapped in the sheets and wearing one of my old t-shirts. It’s years old and threadbare, so I can see the swell of her breasts, the points of her nipples, and just like that, I’m hard again, even though we just fucked for the better part of two hours.
I lean in and kiss her forehead. She stirs, sighs, and then doesn’t move again. I pull on a clean shirt and head downstairs to my office.
It’s early. Too early. But I’ve already been up for almost an hour. I spent most of that time staring at Jessa, watching the flat plane of her stomach rise and fall.
In another month, she’s going to start to show. That thought still baffles me. This life I never expected to have is right at my fingertips.
My office is empty when I walk in. I don’t bother paging Yulian or Lev. I know they’ll be here by five-thirty at the latest.
I’ve just poured myself a cup of coffee when Lev walks in ahead of schedule. He’s got his own mug in hand.
“Morning,” he says, sounding grumpier than usual.
“Talk to me.”
“I checked with security. No one came within ten yards of this place the whole of yesterday. So she wasn’t ever planning on making a move on the estate.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
Lev nods. “Yulian?”
“He should be here by now.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Yulian says right then, rushing into the room and shutting the door. “Ran late, but I managed to get a hold of the security tape from the Ivanov estate.”
“You had that yesterday,” Lev says impatiently.
“Yeah, well, it was encrypted, wasn’t it?” Yulian snaps back. “But I cracked it, combed through the footage, and we have eyes inside the room now.” He pauses—whether because he’s out of breath or for dramatic effect, I’m not sure, and I wouldn’t put either one past him. Then he adds grimly, “It was her.”
Lev rolls his eyes. “Of course it was her. Who else could it have been?”
“Why is there a stick up your ass today?” Yulian growls.
“Maybe because we failed in our mission yesterday,” he retorts. “We were supposed to bury that bitch, but here we are, still plotting.”
“And why are you looking at me like it’s my fault we’re not standing around a grave right now?” Yulian demands.
“Enough!” I spit, standing up. “We don’t need infighting right now. Lev, cool off. Yulian, put the tape in. Let’s watch it.”
“Have you already seen the whole thing?” Lev asks my brother.
Yulian shakes his head. “No, just the first two minutes. Right when Marina enters the room. Then I stopped it and brought it right here to the two of you.”
Lev and I wait while Yulian queues up the tape. It snaps into life.
Drawing room in the Ivanov mansion. Yaromir is sitting on the sofa facing the door as though he expects her to walk through it at any moment. His lone guard is looming right behind him with his hand hovering on his gun holster.
“Watch the bookshelves behind them,” Yulian says.
But I’m already scanning the surrounding walls, looking for the secret door that let the killer in.
“Do you remember being in this room?” Yulian asks, throwing me a glance.
“We were in it yesterday.”