Chapter 181 182

Chapter 181 182
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Vince’s voice is deadly soft, his smile never faltering for the benefit of watching eyes.

“Testing boundaries, if I had to guess,” I suggest, bouncing Sofiya gently as she coos and reaches for my necklace. “Reminding you of your arrangement.”

“He wasn’t invited.”

“Since when has that stopped the FBI?” I touch his forearm. “Remember the plan, Vince. We show him exactly what we want him to see. Nothing more.”

His eyes must be burning, because Carver spots us and his sneer turns into a wicked smile. He makes his way toward us, nodding to various guests as if he belongs here.

“Mr. and Mrs. Akopov,” he greets. I despise how his eyes linger on Sofiya, but I say nothing. “What a lovely gathering. Congratulations on the engagement of your… friends.”

“Agent Carver.” Vince’s voice could freeze hellfire. “I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list.”

“Consider it an official visit.” Carver smiles and winks. “Just checking in on my favorite canary.”

I feel Vince tense beside me. I place my hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“You seem to be making quite the career out of the Solovyov case,” I observe. “Front page of the Times this morning, wasn’t it? ‘FBI Dismantles Major Trafficking Ring.’ Very impressive.”

Carver’s eyes narrow. “Just the beginning, Mrs. Akopov. We’re cleaning house. One family at a time.”

“How fortunate that legitimate businesses like ours have nothing to fear.” I smile sweetly. “Would you like a tour of our latest development plans? They’re on display in the library.”

“Another time, perhaps.” His attention shifts to Vince. “I need a word. Privately.”

Vince’s jaw clenches. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of my wife.”

“This is a strictly confidential matter regarding our arrangement.”

“Then it can wait for normal business hours,” Vince says. “This is a family celebration.”

I study Carver’s face, noting the tension around his eyes. He didn’t come here on a whim. There’s something urgent driving this confrontation.

“It’s fine,” I tell Vince, handing Sofiya to him. “I’ll check on Anastasia. You two can use the study.”

Vince’s eyes meet mine, a silent question passing between us. I nod almost imperceptibly.

Trust me.

“Fine,” Vince says finally. “Five minutes, Carver.”

I watch them walk away. As they go, a familiar unease settles in my stomach. Carver wouldn’t risk appearing at a Bratva gathering unless he had a good reason. Something’s changed in our careful equilibrium.

I make my way to Anastasia, maintaining my hostess smile while anxiety claws at my insides.

“Your FBI friend seems agitated,” she murmurs, accepting a champagne flute from a passing server.

“He’s not my friend.” I take a glass myself but don’t drink. “And yes, something’s wrong.”

“Should we be worried?”

I watch the door to Vince’s study close behind Carver. “When it comes to the federal government, I’m always worried.”

Anastasia follows my gaze. “Perhaps your father could help. He has channels even Vincent doesn’t.”

“There’s a long way to go until they’re anything resembling friends.”

“Yet they’re both here, celebrating our engagement.” Anastasia’s perfectly manicured hand covers mine. “The world is changing, Rowan. Enemies become allies when faced with a common threat.”

Before I can respond, the study door flies open. Vince emerges. Our eyes lock across the room, and the cold dread in my stomach crystallizes into certainty.

Something is very, very wrong.

61

VINCE

I’ve been bleeding out for weeks, slow and steady, watching my life force whisk away into the hands of the FBI.

But tonight, the hemorrhage might finally be stopping.

Carver stands across from me in my study, hands in his pockets like he owns the place. Like he owns me.

The smug fuck has no idea what I’m capable of, even now, even backed into a corner with the ever-present threat of RICO charges dangling over my head.

I could snap his neck before he took his next breath. I could have his body dumped where no one would ever find it. I could make his children orphans with a single phone call.

For now, though, I wait.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Akopov,” Carver says, sliding a folder across my desk. “Your cooperation against the Solovyovs has been extremely productive.”

I don’t touch the folder. “I fulfilled my end of our arrangement. Now, it’s your turn.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He smiles, which is an expression I don’t fucking trust in the least on his face. “The Bureau is prepared to modify our agreement.”

My pulse spikes, but I keep my expression neutral. “I’m listening.”

“The prosecution will focus exclusively on Solovyov operations and what’s left of Barkov’s organization.” He taps the folder. “In exchange, Akopov and Petrov legitimate businesses will be subject to strict compliance requirements, but no active investigation.”

“Define ‘strict compliance.’”

“Quarterly audits. Transparency in international transactions. No cash deals over ten grand.” He shrugs. “Standard operating procedure for legitimate businesses, really. I don’t foresee any issues.”

I slouch back in my chair, studying him. “And the wire?”

“No longer required.” He spreads his hands. “Consider it a reward for your enthusiastic cooperation.”

The relief that floods through me is intense. Free. Free to live my fucking life.

What a concept.

“What changed?” I ask, because nothing in this life comes without strings attached.

Carver’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “My superiors are pleased. And when they’re pleased, I’m in a position to be generous.”

I open the folder, scanning the modified agreement. It’s still a leash, but a longer one.

“I’ll need to consult with my lawyers,” I warn.

“Of course.” Carver checks his watch. “But I’ll need an answer before I leave tonight. The offer expires when I walk out that door.”

I stand, towering over him. “You crash my event, demand an immediate decision, and expect me to just roll over? That’s not how this works.” “Actually,” he says, “that’s exactly how this works. I’m still the one holding the cards here, Akopov. Don’t forget that.”

My fingers itch to close around his throat, to watch the light fade from his eyes as he realizes his mistake. Instead, I pick up the folder.

“I’ll give you my answer in one hour,” I tell him. “Now, get the fuck out of my study.”

When he leaves, I pour myself three fingers of whiskey and down it in one burning swallow. The alcohol doesn’t touch the fire in my veins, the rage that’s been my constant companion since Arkady took that bullet for me.

I text my lawyer the details, then step out to find Rowan.

She’s waiting for me by the bar, a waking dream in emerald silk that makes my cock stir despite the circumstances. Her eyes ask the question before her lips can form the words.

“Carver’s offering a modified agreement,” I tell her quietly. “No wire, no active intelligence gathering. Just compliance requirements for our legitimate businesses.”