Page 7 of Scarred Temptation

The price for wealth and power had been ruthless and constant.

The coffee was what I needed to bring me back from the sleepy realm, leaving me feeling more awake than I had in months. Deciding to get away had been a fantastic idea.

Even though the spur of the moment decision had left my captains in surprise. Especially since we’d experienced significant difficulties over the last few weeks. Not only with the building project, but with several logistics involving our clients.

A shipment had recently been bombed, some captains certain modern-day pirates had been involved. I knew better. And yet their identity remained in the shadows.

Hearing my phone ringing brought annoyance. No one was supposed to contact me unless there was a crisis that couldn’t be handled.

If Isabel heard the ringer, which I’d thought I’d turned off, she would be rightfully pissed. We’d agreed no business. I stormed into the kitchen and it took me a full minute to locate where it had been placed.

I was halfway out the back door before I answered. “This had better be a life or death situation.”

“Kristoff was almost killed.”

Hearing the concern in my Brigadier’s voice brought tension. Sergei wouldn’t have made contact unless he believed there was a criminal element involved. “What do you mean almost killed?”

“A near hit and run although the front bumper did make contact with his legs, tossing him by a few feet.”

I took a deep breath. “Purposeful?”

“He’s uncertain. Could have been a drunk driver. It was late at night and they came from behind. There’d been too much street traffic for him to notice more.”

Expelling a deep breath, I shook my head, allowing some relief into my system. “Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, although he has a hairline fracture and a bunch of bumps and bruises. Before you ask, he didn’t want to bother you. This was my call.”

I glanced at the ocean, trying not to jump to any conclusions. “What was he doing?”

“Leaving the meeting you asked him to attend. That’s why I called you.”

In certain light, it could appear as if Kristoff was the powerful Russian Pakhan in both manner of dress and attitude. We’d remarked on the uncanny likeness several times. So had others. “You did the right thing, but we can’t jump to conclusions and start a war. Not without proof.”

“You’re right.”

Yes, I was right. That didn’t mean I wasn’t enraged. Sergei’s instincts were damn good, often better than mine.

Hearing noise behind me, I found myself cringing while turning around. I offered a smile while my lovely companion was frowning as she tied her robe.

“What do you want me to do, Pakhan?” Sergei asked, momentarily breaking the terse but electrified connection with Isabel.

“Just keep your ear to the streets.”

She swaggered closer, lifting a single eyebrow. “Who is it?” Her question was full of condemnation.

“It’s Sergei.”

Her deep breath held conviction. Before I had a chance to object, she snatched the phone from my hand, pulling it to her face. “I’m sorry, Sergei, but your Pakhan is busy. You’re going to need to handle any crises on your own.” She made a big deal out of hitting the end button.

“Happy now?” I asked, offering a slight growl.

She glanced at the phone then back to me, all while she offered a sly smile and pitched the phone over the railing.

Very little surprised me any longer, but her reaction shocked the fuck out of me. I bolted toward the railing, peering over.

“Now I am,” she said with such defiance. “We agreed. No work unless an emergency.”

The plop as the phone dropped into the middle of the pool kept me in stark awe for seconds. “I cannot believe you just did that.”