Lucian turned a pointed look his way. “If what the detective said is true, and this man was your brother’s silent partner, I think we both know Mikhail isn’t as innocent as any of us want to believe. And this man’s absence lines up with Mikhail’s death. I’m not the only one seeing this shit, right? The same day he died is almost the same day Dimitris fell off the grid. No more art deals, no more contacts with known associates. Zero.”
Sevastyan’s bells went off way before Lucian gave words to his own thoughts.
“If he knew anything at all, my father kept his mouth shut. All in the name of money.” A deeper problem took root. Did his father know who killed his brother? Did he keep quiet in order to keep raking in the money?
A black hole opened up in the pit of his stomach and despite the controlled climate of his office, Sevastyan’s palms grew slick with sweat. Sevastyan clamped his hands around a handful of hair and cursed.
“How the fuck did we miss this, Matteo?” he growled.
He didn’t see a point in lowering his voice or letting his contempt not be on full display. Enough red fire coerced through his veins he couldn’t see past the curtain of red filling his vision.
“Take a step back, man. This shit is just going to give you a heart attack. Plus there’s more and I don’t want to have to go through this more than once.”
Sevastyan shot Matteo a fuck-off look that sent the man back a few paces, holding his hands up in defense. “Have it your fucking way, man.”
“This bastard has some serious pull to be able to up and disappear.” Sevastyan nodded to the screen and Dimitris’ picture. “The man had to have friends in some shady places. “Something caused him to go to ground. What or who could do that to a man of his caliber? Our contact believes while he’s been radio silent, he’s been cleaning house and has restructured. Again, no arrests or proof that led back to him.” Lucian frowned as he flicked through a few older photos, each blurrier than the last.
“This is interesting.”
Dimitris, wearing a red suit, stood on the steps of Haven, an escort on each side. Their heads were down and each of the women wore black leather collars, but the bands were not thick enough to hide the injection marks nor the bruises.
They were being led into Haven when his brother was still alive. Unwilling submissives.
Sevastyan looked closer and noticed more bruising along the back and shoulders. He’d give his last dollar betting one of those girls was from the missing persons case.
The marks were faded to barely a shadow against their dark complexions but if you knew what to look for—and he did—they stood out like red flags.
A round of curses filled the room.
“Did your brother know about this shit?” Lucian sounded as pissed off as he felt. Matteo wasn’t far behind. A deep scowl plastered on his face did all the talking.
“Detective Vicente dropped this in our laps for a reason. She’s watching and wants us to fuck up so she can take us all down.”
Matteo claimed a spot on the couch, his elbows on his knees. “Let’s reach out. Make the first move. We can handle the detective.”
Sevastyan took the image of Dimitris and held it up. “Do it. Make contact and issue an exclusive invite to Mikhail’s silent partner. He must be circling us and waiting his time. I don’t like waiting and seeing when we’ll get hit. I’m sure he’s bound to be interested in what we have to say.”
“Rhia. The detective is stirring the pot and has placed her in the middle of something none of us knows shit about. This fucking dick could be outside her place right now.” Matteo released a string of Spanish curses.
“I need to go.” Matteo threw back the last bit of his drink.
Sevastyan angled his head toward the elevator, tracking Matteo’s abrupt beeline for the fastest exit. “You’re going to her, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Our little birdie needs to do some talking and I plan on making her sing.”
***