“We’ll see,” she mutters, making Artyom give a soft snort that he tries to cover with a cough.
“Go get some breakfast, troublemaker,” I tell her, giving her a kiss and lifting her off my lap. “I’ll be down in a bit. I need to take care of a few things first.”
She hesitates, but when I smack her ass, she smiles and walks out the door. I watch her, not turning back to Artyom until she’s gone from my sight.
“Don’t fucking put ideas in her head,” I tell him. “I’m not putting her at risk. I don’t want her involved in this.”
“She’s already involved. That ring you put on her finger guarantees that.”
“It’s not the same thing,” I grumble.
“Just think about it.”
“I will do no such thing.”
He sighs but leaves it alone. Switching topics, I say, “The Sweet Peach is on track. I’m sure it’ll be a huge hardship for you, but I’m putting you fully in charge of it for now.”
The smile he gives actually lights up his smug face. “So what you’re saying is I’ll be in charge of interviewing the dancers?”
“Like I said, a huge hardship.”
He smirks and runs a hand over his stubbled face. “This may be my favorite assignment yet, and you know how much I enjoy killing people.”
“I do, Death. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.”
He shrugs off my comment. “We can’t pick our talents. All we can do is embrace them.”
“I’d say you should get that gem tattooed on your ass, but you probably already have.”
He laughs and takes the paper I give him. “That’s the contact information for the construction company and when they should be finished. We’ve already got the word out that we’re looking to hire some dancers.”
“Sounds good.” He stands and tries one last time to convince me to put my fiancée’s life at risk. “Stephens is going to come at us hard. We need to get him first, especially if the Rossi family is trying to regain control of the city.”
“I’m aware. Now get the fuck out before I put someone else in charge of stripper duty.”
He leaves without another word. Well, at least I’ve finally found a way to shut him up. I’ll have to remember that. I make a quick call to Jinx, confirming that we need to be in possession of the laptop to get the information I need from it, and when I hang up I’m even more irritated than before I made the damn call.
Not only does he need me to steal the laptop or have someone insert a special device straight into it, but he had the fucking nerve to suggest I send Charlie in to do it. The idea of sending her into the mayor’s house when he might still be working with the Italians has my hands clenching and the beginning of a tension headache rearing its ugly head.
No fucking way! I’m not doing that to her. I’ll figure out a way in without her. She’s just going to have to accept my decision on this. I groan at the idea of trying to keep Charlie from doing something she’s bound and determined to do. At least I still have the tracker in her ass. If she tries to sneak off, I’ll know before she even gets past the property line. Feeling a tiny bit better with that knowledge, I get up and go in search of my stubborn little fiancée.
Chapter13
Charlotte
Mikhail is being so damn stubborn. I’ve been trying to convince him for the last three days that he needs to let me do this job for him, but he refuses to even talk about it. The last time I tried to bring it up, he’d thrown me on the bed, clamped his hand over my mouth, and buried his head between my legs until I couldn’t form words even if I’d wanted to.
It was an unfair tactic, but I’m not complaining. He knew I wouldn’t. I can still picture the smug grin he’d given me when he’d pulled his head back, his face still wet from the multiple orgasms he’d given me. All I could do was sigh and smile like an idiot.
I’m not giving up so easily today, though. It’s the last day to buy tickets for the mayor’s fundraiser, and I’m going to make damn sure we get two of them. Mikhail left in a rush earlier when his accountant called. I don’t know what was said, but it didn’t sound good. While I wait for him to get back, I open up my laptop and pull up the website for the fundraiser. Tickets are still available, and when I see the price, my mouth drops open.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, looking at the five-thousand-dollar price tag. I don’t have ten thousand in my bank account, so there goes my brilliant idea to secretly buy two tickets.
“What are you up to?”
I let out a yelp and nearly drop my computer at the sound of Mikhail’s voice. Knowing he’s caught me red-handed and that he’ll see right through any lie I tell, I say, “I was going to buy two tickets to this damn fundraiser, but I don’t have enough in my checking account.”
“I’m glad you decided to stop lying, because my God, sweetheart, are you bad at it.”