It wasn’t until about twenty years ago when he popped up again; this time on the FBI’s radar due to his connections to Ivan Petrov, the suspected and reclusive Russian human trafficker.
Except, nobody had ever seen the man. Ivan Petrov was basically a criminal ghost.
Alexei Nikolaev apparently had a highly sought skillset. By the Bratva, Cosa Nostra, Irish mafia, Greek mafia… Fuck, he worked with all criminal organizations.
My heart thundered as I read Alexei’s dealings with other questionable members of the society - Nico Morrelli, Cassio King, Luciano Vitale, Raphael-
And the screen went blank.
My head snapped around, eyeing the lights. The electricity was still on. No flickering. Everyone else seemed to be deep into their work.
I returned my attention back to the screen and pressed the refresh button. When nothing happened, I clicked the enter button.
Still nothing.
So I restarted the search, typing in the name.Nothing.
“That can’t be,” I hissed. “I was just reading the damn thing. I know there is shit in here.”
I tried again. Still nothing.
I reached for my desk phone and dialed up Milo.
“What’s up?” His standard answer.
“Hello Milo,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “I was in the midst of reading a file on Alexei Nikolaev, a person of interest, and then it just disappeared. Just fucking disappeared.”
He chuckled and my teeth clenched. I knew my lack of sleep usually made me more irritable. It wasn’t fair to take it out of him, though at this moment, his chuckle irritated me unlike anything else.
“That’s because I wiped it clean,” he deadpanned.
My blood pressure spiked up. “Why in the fuck would you do that?” I snapped.
He chuckled again, and I gritted my teeth or risked saying something very inappropriate.
“McGovan ordered it and had authorization by the higher-ups in Washington,” he explained.
It made no fucking sense. What fucking horse shit!
“Well, get it back,” I hissed. “I wasn’t done and I need the information.” When he didn’t answer, I lost my shit. “Fucking now, Milo!”
“The wipe out is permanent.”
Then he hung up. He fucking hung up on me.
I took a deep breath in and exhaled then repeated it again. Calmness slowly crept through me.
So I inhaled and exhaled one more time before I resorted to looking through the damn internet. Though the Nikolaev men seemed to be idolized by the media, almost as much as my brothers, for their looks, wealth, and intriguing rumors of their connections to organized crime, it didn't provide me with any substantive information.
I’d never understand the appeal. It was suicide to get involved with one of those men. I’ve witnessed firsthand how destructive and disgusting men in organized crime were.
It destroyed Anya.
My cell phone alarm went off, halting a trip down memory lane. Glancing at the clock, I noted the time. It was almost three - time to pick up big brother from the private airport.
I promised him I wouldn’t be late.
* * *