The woman with the scarf was tall, but thin. Olivia is petite, but I think she could defend herself.
I just don’t want her to have to.
My phone vibrates against my thigh. Once, twice. Then it doesn’t stop.
The screen illuminates with a cascade of incoming notifications—Mikayla, Taras, security systems across my network all screaming simultaneously. Red alert icons flash across my screen as I scan the messages.
Three warehouses hit simultaneously.
Sir, federal agents just showed up at Safonov Holdings with warrants.
Someone deleted the backup security footage.
Whatever you need, Stefan, Mikayla texts. Just tell me where to aim.
She’s ready for an order, for some off-the-cuff command to fly out of my mouth the way it usually does.
But for the first time in my decade-long reign as pa
