Make Me Beg, Daddy

Chapter 49

I snort. “Then I assume he sang like a canary when Yuri started pulling out his tools.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe how bad,” Yuri confirms. “Snotting and bawling and pissing himself before I even got the blowtorch fully assembled.”

“And?”

Niko sighs. “And he doesn’t know anything, Kane. The way he explained it was, he got a call on the day of the party offering him a gig. The caller never gave a name. Just told him where to go, when, and what they wanted him to hunt for.”

I pick up my letter opener and start to roll it in my palm. “Which was what?”

Niko reads it off the pad. “‘Clear images of the male subject, Mr. Kane Makov, with the unidentified female companion. Prioritize capturing moments of intimate physical contact. Faces must be identifiable.’“

I growl in my throat.

I don’t like the sound of this s**t at all.

Especially not since he got what he was after.

“Did he know Lilah’s name?” I ask.

“No,” Anton says. “The client called her the mystery woman every time.”

“Did he know why the client wanted her?”

Yuri answers. “He gave me the same answer before and after I separated two of his fingers. He knew nothing beyond the assignment.”

I believe him. Yuri has been detaching fingers for me for a long time. If there are any nuggets of information remaining in a captive’s head, he’ll find them.

“Where is he now?”

“Sleeping.”

“He fell asleep after you broke his hand?” Niko asks.

Yuri looks at him and grins crookedly. “I may have helped with a little lullaby of sorts.”

“I’m guessing it’s the kind of lullaby that involves a power tool?”

Yuri’s grin widens. “A magician never reveals his secrets, young Nikolai.”

Niko laughs. “You have such a nurturing soul.”

“Enough with the f*****g jokes,” I interrupt. “What else have we found out about the caller?”

Niko stops smiling. He gets up and turns the map so Brighton Beach faces him. “I traced the call to a shell corp. The registered agent serves three hundred companies from a mailbox on Brighton Sixth. We found nothing behind most of them. But… four of them use the same bookkeeper as a repair shop that washes money for the Vetrov family. It’s thin evidence, but it’s not nothing.”

That gets me out of my seat.

“Osip Vetrov,” I rasp.

“I’d say he’s suspect numero uno,” Niko agrees. “There are a lot of moving pieces and hidden layers here, but my money says this came from his side of Brooklyn.”

Ilona Vetrova was twenty-six when my father stood at the head of his Orthodox Christmas table and announced her as his new wife. My mother had cooked for forty guests that day. She had served every plate and never sat down.

Osip, her older brother, stood near my father during the toast.

He raised his glass.

He congratulated them.

Then he watched my mother return to the kitchen.

I was a boy, but I remember his face.

I remember every face at that table.

“He’s been after the waterfront for years,” Niko says. “Now, he’s asking questions about the woman who owns its final parcel.”

“He asked for photographs of me and Lilah,” I argue. “We don’t know whether he knows about the bakery.”

“Not yet.” Niko points to the white square at Forty-Fourth and Fourth. “But he knows you. He knows you have spent half your life buying this corridor. He sees you with a woman who owns its last piece, and he will identify the bakery.”

I think of Vivian in the bedroom doorway.

There was a guy. A man came to him about it. With an offer.

Connor has something Osip wants. Osip has money Connor needs. Neither man possesses the discipline to ignore an opportunity that hurts me.

Anton starts laying down photographs across the map. “These are what we pulled off the camera, sir.”

I recognize the first image, because I was drinking it in live through my own eyes: Lilah descending the brass staircase in the wine-colored dress while every man in the lobby drooled over her.

The second catches her talking to Ekaterina and Anna.

The third shows her beside Niko.

The fourth shows Alisa Vetrova entering the ballroom.

I remember the reaction. Men turned. Women winced. Half the guests moved toward her without even realizing what they were doing.

I couldn’t have cared less about Alisa.

I was too wrapped up in Lilah.

But then come the money shots.

Anton places the fifth photograph beside the fourth. The photographer captured Lilah looking miserable outside the coat room.

In the sixth, I have Lilah against me with my mouth on hers.

She doesn’t look quite so miserable in that one.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” I muse out loud. “Alisa arrives. Every guest looks toward the doors. Our man moves into the lobby without anyone noticing and gets ready for whatever comes next.”

Niko nods. “Convenient.”

“Too convenient.”

“You think she knew?” Anton asks.

“I think Alisa knows what happens when she enters a room. Osip knows, too.” I study the image of her in the doorway. “He may have used her as a distraction without telling her.”

Niko taps Alisa’s photograph. “Look at that smug smile. She knew for sure.”

I remember her fingers on my sleeve. Her little performance about old vodka and older memories. She wanted Lilah to feel temporary.

She may have come to punish me for ignoring her, or she may have come because Osip told her when to arrive and what to do when she did.

I’d believe either answer.

“Put two men on her,” I tell Yuri. “I want every meeting and every call. Keep them far enough back that her father doesn’t notice them.”

Yuri nods.

“Put watchers on the corridor, too. Every parcel from Thirty-Ninth to Forty-Fifth. I want names for every broker, inspector, contractor, and curious stranger who asks about property.”

“Already moving,” Yuri says.

“Move faster. Double the guard at the bakery and her house.”

Yuri pauses. “Ms. Dorsey will notice.”

“Then choose men she won’t notice.” I stick the letter opener back into its cup. “You oversee both teams yourself. Nobody approaches her unless you approve it.”

“Understood.”

“Anton, make sure every exterior camera at both addresses feeds here. Replace any unit that gives you a bad image.”

Anton inclines his head. “Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

Yuri and Anton leave together. Niko remains beside the map.

He’s got something to say in private, I’m guessing.

Sure enough, once the door closes, he turns and fixes me with his serious face.

“You have to tell her the whole story, Kane.”

“Not a f*****g chance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Gee, what a compelling counterargument.” Niko plants one finger on Lot 22. “She’s gonna get caught in the crossfire, brother. She’s literally trapped in no-man’s-land. Tell her about the acquisitions before Osip tells her for you.”

“Osip has no proof.”

“He found your mystery woman in one night. Give him a week and he’ll find the LLCs. Give him two and he’ll send her the map with a red circle around her bakery and a cute little doodle of you with blood dripping from your fangs as you prepare to swallow it whole.”

“He can doodle anything he likes,” I fire back. “I’m not involving her in this.”

“She’s already involved!” Niko cries out. “And she’s not stupid. If weird things keep happening, she’s going to start digging, and when she finds more weird stuff, she’s going to ask you questions. Don’t you think she’ll find it noteworthy that you own ninety properties on her street?”

“I don’t own them.”

Niko buries his face in his hands. “Christ, you’re pedantic. Yes, ‘you’ are technically nobody, but you do own ninety shell companies that own ninety properties on her street. Great point, though—I’m sure she’ll really appreciate the distinction.”

I gather the photographs, stack them up, and tap them until the edges align. “I’ll tell her at Easter. Not before then.”

He studies me. “After you take her building? Not sure she’ll be in such a receptive mood then.”

“After I burn the lien.”

He drops his hand from the map in surprise. “You decided that? Like, for sure?”

“I decided it before she agreed to the holidays.”

“And you neglected to mention it?”

“I told her she can keep the bakery if she fulfills the agreement.”

“Well, that’s an interesting turn of events.” Niko pulls out a chair and sits back down. “Care to explain your reasoning there?”

I grimace. I’m sick of this conversation, but I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t give him at least one satisfying morsel to chew on.

“If I tell her now, she will hear another threat. I engineered Connor’s loan because I wanted her property. I knew he would default. I intended to enforce against her. She hears that while I still own the debt, and she will hear pressure in every word.”

“She won’t be wrong, either.”

“But after Easter,” I continue, “once the hold over her is gone, I’ll tell her the truth, and it’ll all just seem like a bad dream.”

He rubs his hands over his face like I’m exasperating him. “Then why go to all this trouble, Kane? All these holidays and whatever else you’re planning? Why not just rip up the papers now, call it a day, and move on with your life?”

Because I’ve tasted the sweetness on her lips, I think to myself.