The Billionaire’s Master Key

3.

Nina’s POV

Two weeks into the job, I had gone through employee files, security reports, organization charts and access logs.

I knew who reported to whom, who arrived early, who stayed late, who was sleeping with whom. But none of it explained who wanted to destroy Roman Volkov.

One file kept pulling me back. Dmitri Volkov.

He was Roman’s cousin and had been head of security for eight years. His files contained court papers as a result of his gambling.

Every day at 3 PM. I followed him twice. Both times he went to the courtyard, took a call, smoked half a cigarette, crushed it and came back.

It was nothing useful so I wrote him off.

On Thursday at four, Claire called me saying that Roman would like to see me. I closed the file I was working on and headed upstairs.

He was standing by the window with one hand in his pocket. Without his jacket, the rolled-up sleeves exposed strong forearms dusted with dark hair.

He held his phone to his ear, speaking Russian in a low voice. When he hung up, he turned and looked at me. He didn’t offer me a seat.

“Progress?” he said.

“I’m looking into Volkov’s employees.”

“Tell me something you’ve learned about me so far.”

I looked at him.

“Your employees are afraid of you.”

He lifted one eyebrow.

“Fear gets results,” he said in a tone that sounded like he was lecturing me.

“Only for a while,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“People who are afraid of you tell you what they think you want to hear.”

He studied me.

“Have you managed people before?”

“Not really. But I do have enough experience to know fear isn’t loyalty.”

His mouth curved into a smile.

“You enjoy disagreeing with me.”

I was silent.

He moved closer.

“Most people avoid arguing with me.”

His eyes searched my face as if he was trying to remember where he had seen me before.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

He ignored my question and tapped his fingers against the desk.

“A good employee follows instructions.”

“I’m a consultant, not your employee.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Do you always push back?”

For a second, I thought I’d crossed a line. Then, he gave a short laugh.

“Interesting,” his eyes stayed on mine. “Most people try to impress me.”

My pulse kicked hard enough that I wondered if he could see it in my neck.

Then he nodded once toward the door.

“Go.”

In the elevator, I pressed my thighs together and let out the breath I’d been holding. I hated that my body remembered him.

Monaco was five years ago. Yet one look from Roman Volkov could still throw my entire body into chaos.

****

I stayed past the cleaning crew, the lights were off on most floors. I packed my bag at 9:40, clocked out and took the elevator down to the garage.

Halfway to my car, I heard voices. My field work instincts kicked in. I stopped and pressed my back to a thick pillar, making myself small.

Three rows from where I was standing, two men stood by a black sedan.

It was Dmitri Volkov and a man I didn’t know. The man was tall and broad. He wore a leather jacket with boots. He doesn’t look like the kind of man who would work at Volkov Tech.

Dmitri looked pale. There was sweat on his forehead even though the garage was cold and his hands shook as he talked.

“I need more time,” his voice was thin.

“I can get you the rest. Just give me another week.”

“You said that last time,” the other man replied.

“I know. I know. I’m trying. Next week. The full amount. I swear.”

“Seven days,” he paused. “Then your wife dies.”

Dmitri made a sound that was not quite a word.

“I will get it. I swear on my kids. On everything.”

The man opened the sedan door and got in. When the engine turned over, the sound bounced off the concrete and rolled out toward the exit ramp until it was gone.

Dmitri leaned against the concrete wall for a second. His shoulders shook.

Then he straightened his tie, wiped his face with his sleeve and walked back toward the staff elevators with his head down.

I got into my car and drove home on autopilot. When I got home, I took a hot shower, sat on the bed in a towel and opened my laptop.

If Dmitri had to borrow money from an illegal option, then it had to be from a group called Petrov Network.

Office gossips said he had been arrested twice over unpaid gambling debts. It was Roman who paid for both settlements.

Petrov Network were not the kind of people who sent reminders. They broke fingers first and asked questions later.

I leaned back and stared at my laptop screen.

Roman had given his cousin several chances. If Dmitri had gotten into trouble again, he probably wouldn’t want Roman to find out.

Volkov Tech’s next project was the talk of every trade board in tech business. The project was worth billions. A competitor would pay good money for inside information.

And as the head of security, Dmitri would have no problem entering any office to get any information needed.

I opened the building’s security logs. His access history looked normal. It’s either Dmitri had nothing to hide or he was good at covering his tracks.

The only way to confirm my theory was to watch and see how Dmitri planned on getting the money as he promised.

I thought about telling Roman. The NDA said everything came to him.

But if Dmitri turned out innocent, Roman would have more reasons to look down on me.

And if he was guilty… I wanted to see who he met next.

I shut my laptop. Tomorrow, I will follow Dmitri again.