Devin: A Romantic Suspense (V Mafia Series Book 2) Read online

  “Any other questions before we wrap things up?”

  She pushed her lips into a slight scowl and a few seconds of silence passed between us.

  “Is there a reason I had to be scanned for weapons just to get inside? Has something recently happened?”

  “We had a disgruntled employee who we felt posed a threat.”

  “Did I look like that employee?”

  “No, but it’s easier to scan everyone instead of having my men stare at a photo and analyze every face that walks off the elevator.”

  “It was a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, looking satisfied with my answer.

  “If you have any other questions, you have my card.” I glanced toward the hall, hoping to catch Greta. When I didn’t see her, I buzzed the reception area for her.

  Avery and I both knew she had the job by this point, and I knew I had to get out of the conference room.

  When I told her Greta would be in touch, her only response was a curt thank-you before her mouth curled up slightly in a coy smile as if she knew she’d won some sort of game. Every single part of me responded to her reaction. I tended to drift toward women who weren’t bashful or timid, and something told me Avery was neither of those things.

  I hid a grin as I stood and shook her hand.

  Even her handshake was perfection, strong and determined.

  When Greta came to the conference room and led her out, my eyes traveled along Avery’s stunning curves. Her outfit wouldn’t do much of anything for most women, but on Avery, it hugged and gathered in all the right places.

  Coming into the office just got a whole lot more interesting. I stood in the conference room and got myself together. Merely being in the same room with her was mind-altering, and it didn’t help that she felt the same connection I did.

  Not to mention, that had to be the shortest interview I’d ever conducted, but if I stayed any longer, it wouldn’t have ended well. All I could think about was running my lips across hers. I rolled my eyes and pushed in the chair.

  I fully blamed Jaxson for concocting this scheme. But my solution to this was an easy one.

  I’d work from home as often as possible.

  I nearly crashed into Jaxson as I walked out of the conference room, and he brought me right back to reality.

  “Conference room F in five minutes,” he nearly barked.

  That was one of our more secure meeting places on this floor. My mind flashed to the project I’d been working on. It wasn’t quite ready to discuss with my brothers. I prayed Jaxson hadn’t gotten wind of it, but judging by his anger level, he might have.

  I glanced behind me and saw that Greta was already in the reception area, going over details with Avery.

  “What’s got you in such a great mood?” I asked, following him down the hall.

  “You’ll know soon enough.”

  I didn’t get offended by Jax’s attitude. Everyone in the family knew this was the new Jax, but I doubt he saw a difference.

  I patted his shoulder and turned off toward the breakroom where I grabbed a cup of coffee. I heard laughter in the reception area and took a couple of steps to the right so I could get a better view.

  Greta and Avery were chuckling about something and my chest tightened. There was something mesmerizing about our new hire. Even her laughter pulled me in. I let out a deep breath and her eyes flashed to mine.

  A flicker of rebellion darted through her gaze when she gauged my reaction, and I just shook my head, took a sip of coffee, and made my way to conference room F.

  Drake, Blake, and Jax were already sitting around the conference table. The moment I stepped inside, I felt the crackle of tension in the air as my brothers eyed one another without acknowledging my presence.

  I shut the door.

  “Flip off the light,” Jaxson instructed as the screen began to lower.

  Blake’s eyes briefly connected with mine as I did as instructed. I tried to read his expression, but since he’d come back to the family business, he’d become better at hiding his emotions.

  I sat in the leather chair next to Jax and waited.

  “Our organization has been built on trust. . . loyalty,” Jax began.

  I noticed him tapping his fingers on the table.

  “When someone breaches our organization . . .” He drew in a slow breath and I stiffened. “There’s only one outcome. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they’ve done in the past.”

  I dropped my gaze to the table and waited for him to continue. There was no telling what in particular had set him off, and I certainly wasn’t about to step in it if I wasn’t the root of the problem. There would be enough time for that in the future.

  “There’s a reason we’ve stayed on top for generations.” Jax adjusted his tie as footage flashed on the screen. He tapped the mouse a few times, enlarging the image. “We run a clean organization.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Blake countered.

  “I’d say the majority is pretty dirty,” I added, flashing my brother a wry grin before bringing my eyes back to the screen.

  “Are we supposed to know who that is?” I asked, seeing a man in a hoodie, jeans, and a baseball hat. He looked like just another average Joe wandering the streets of our city.

  Jax tapped the button, and a picture of our driver, Viktor, popped on the screen next. My blood chilled.

  Viktor had been with the family for as long as I could remember.

  “Someone’s loyalty appears to be in danger.” He flashed to another photo showing Viktor pushing a briefcase into the trunk of his car.

  “In jeopardy or already gone?” I watched Jax’s expression fall into a deeper scowl. Viktor had mainly been Jax’s driver. My brothers and I didn’t have a real need for the service.

  “Proshlo.”

  I doubted Jax even realized he’d said gone in Russian.

  “What’s in the briefcase?” I asked.

  “Cash.” Jax flipped to another picture with Viktor and a man chatting.

  “Mom’s not going to be happy about this.” Blake groaned. “We really don’t need this right now.”

  “Please tell us it doesn’t have to do with the shipments coming up,” Drake said, his expression tired.

  “No. Worse.” Jax ran his fingers along his jaw and let out a deep sigh.

  “He’s turned informant.”

  “He wouldn’t be foolish enough.” Drake glanced at Jax and then looked over at me. “I don’t believe it. Do you?”

  I shook my head but answered affirmatively.

  “I’d imagine Jax did his due diligence.”

  Jax clicked forward to another photograph.

  “The Lieutenant informed me”—Jax walked over to the lights and flipped them on before taking a seat at the table—“that since shutting down the Organized Crime Bureau, each borough is trying to out-jockey the other. No-names are trying to get recognition for bringing in just about anyone with ties to organized crime.”

  “And just when we thought we had it easy,” Drake said wryly. “Are we going to have to increase pay?”

  We’d done an impeccable job of zeroing in on those who understood our needs, but if the structure started to shift away power from those we needed, our lives would become a lot more difficult.

  “Does that mean Viktor was threatened?” Blake asked.

  “I’d imagine that was how he was approached.” Jax nodded. “Or worse.”

  Shock continued to weave through my system. Our organization was tight. It always had been.

  Until now.

  There had to have been something that scared him straight into talking. Our men didn’t snitch. If they did, they’d find their lives shortened exponentially.

  “We can’t take him out.” I straightened in the chair. “If he’s their informant and he goes missing, they’ll immediately try to pin his disappearance on us.”

  “Exactly my thoughts,” Drake agreed.

  “But we
could feed Viktor very misleading information,” I suggested. “Use this to our advantage, especially with the special cargo we’re expecting.”

  A smile covered Jaxson’s face and his eyes darted to my brothers. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. So, where should we begin?”

  “Anywhere that keeps them far away from the truth,” Drake said, reclining back in the chair.

  And I knew the project I’d been working on couldn’t have come at a better time. Now, hopefully, I could convince my brothers of the same.

  Chapter Seven

  Avery

  I made my way home in a euphoric state, but the sensation quickly disappeared the moment I walked into my studio and spotted a note with a key on the desk. A disturbing sensation crept up my spine, and I quickly glanced around the bare apartment. I dumped my purse on the kitchen counter, quickly made my way over to the desk, and glanced toward the hidden camera before turning my attention to the handwritten note.

  Box 745

  9th and West 23rd

  Between last night and today’s interviews, I wanted nothing more than to stay in and fall asleep early. I’d grabbed a late lunch on the way back and it was close to three in the afternoon. I wasn’t looking forward to trekking across the city to receive a message from Davis either reprimanding me for last night’s actions, passing on a reassignment, or offering a congratulatory note for getting inside Wolf quicker than anticipated.

  Truthfully, I doubted it was any of those with the lieutenant. She was difficult to read. We all wanted justice, but I wasn’t sure what else was driving her, and I felt there was definitely something underlying with her. Power? Vengeance? I didn’t know. She wasn’t a mentor, but I got the feeling she liked fresh blood.

  I thought back to my dad and knew what pushed me to join the force, what had driven me to do better, perform better, and learn more. I wanted to carry on my father’s legacy the best way I knew how, and all that had brought me across the country.

  I let out a sigh and unbuttoned my blouse trading out the stuffy, silk shirt for a sweater and the slacks for a pair of black leggings.

  One thing was for certain. I needed to go shopping before my first day at Wolf Industries, but first, I needed to pick up whatever was waiting for me from the lieutenant.

  Or at least that was who I assumed it was from. I let my hair out of the bun and ran my fingers though the strands to get the tangles out. I never imagined cracking someone in the face would lead to such a good opportunity. It also told me the Volkovs were unpredictable. Why they cared what happened to a waitress at one of the many restaurants they owned was beyond me, but it certainly scooted up our timeline in the right direction. Hopefully, I wasn’t being taken off the case.

  I tugged my hair back into a loose ponytail, pulled on a jacket, and grabbed the key, shredding the piece of paper with the box number scribbled on it.

  By the time I hit the brisk air outside the apartment building, a renewed sense of obligation and excitement pulsed through me. I was part of a team that had the opportunity to take down one of the most elusive organizations in the history of the city.

  These men were dangerous, and it didn’t matter how much of their businesses they’d cleaned the dirty out of. What drove these brothers was the same thing that drove the man to kill my father. Once I learned what made them tick, maybe I could begin to understand why my father was killed so thoughtlessly.

  But there was one distinct difference between the Volkov men and the man back in Idaho. I didn’t see these men as predators. They used the system to their advantage and slid by authorities time and again, but nothing in the files portrayed them as marauders. They were too calculating, too refined.

  I flagged down a cab and climbed in, rattling off the address and staring out the window at the endless waves of people crashing onto the crosswalks and sidewalks. It was funny that as lively as New York City was for those who engaged, it could feel so isolating to those who didn’t.

  For some, merely being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city was enough. For others, they wanted to be in the mix, feeding off the activity and infusing their lives with a pseudo-sense of community and friendship.

  I also recognized that some of the people who dove into the center of activity were some of the loneliest people I’d ever encountered and it bothered them. I didn’t mind being alone.

  For the most part.

  By the time I got to my drop-off point, the streets were nothing but a line of brake lights. This was a main thoroughfare so traffic was never calm. I thanked the driver and climbed out of the car, staring at buildings and searching for one that looked as if it would have a postal box inside.

  I spotted a tiny shipping store at the bottom of one of the tall brick buildings and made my way across the street. I walked into the small shop and noticed a room to my left with mailboxes. A man was helping a woman work the color copier in the far corner, so I just walked into the room of bronze and copper mailboxes and searched for box 745.

  I found a tiny box number 745 almost out of reach, and a pulse of excitement surged through me. It was the little victories in life when it came to a job like this. Quickly inserting the key and reaching my hand into the box, my fingers landed on an envelope and something that felt like a tiny box.

  I pulled both out and saw a matchbox along with the envelope. I shoved the matches in my purse and turned over the envelope to look at the flap. The envelope had never been sealed. I pulled out the piece of paper and read the words carefully.

  We can’t afford another screw-up like the one the other night. Pure luck got you in the doors of Wolf Industries, but I don’t run on luck. You botch this next part of the assignment, and you won’t only be off my team—you’ll be without a job. You are playing a part. It doesn’t matter if someone gets handsy. You’re not a cop in this world. In order for this to work, I need you to play whatever part will get us the answers. We think we’re getting close to another shipment coming through the port. We need to know what’s in it, how they get it through, and when the next one is set to arrive. The sooner we stop them, the quicker we can get the weapons off the street. Every night, I expect to see a list of names slapped on the desk for us to photograph. If you can’t provide that, I’ll assume you’re not doing your job. Burn this correspondence.

  “Miss Avery Hill?”

  My pulse spiked in alarm when I quickly spun around to see FBI Special Agent Ellis.

  The man I’d met during my initial meeting with the Lieutenant was staring at me with a stern expression. I looked around the small space before turning my attention back to him.

  “Yes? May I help you with something?” I pushed down an edge of worry.

  “I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked.

  “No.” He took a step forward and a chill cascaded over my flesh as he eyed me carefully. Davis told me I wouldn’t be seeing this man or Rodriguez again, yet here he was. “Meet me at the diner across the street in ten minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  I watched him stride out the back exit as I was left staring at the note from Davis, the sheet of paper trembling between my fingers. My gut told me Davis didn’t know Ellis was here. So why was he here?

  I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and leaned against the sorting table for mail.

  Ellis obviously knew I’d be here or he’d been following me.

  I knew I could sit here and play a game with myself, or I could concentrate on the clock and wait until I went across the street and got real answers.

  Speculating was a waste of time and energy. Rather than immediately taking a match to the letter, I folded it and put the paper in my purse in case I needed it in five minutes. It wasn’t like I could strike a match indoors, and on the sidewalk wasn’t exactly incognito.

  I drew in a deep breath, unable to keep my mind occupied as I wondered what Ellis wanted. Was Davis no longer in charge? I glanced at the exi
t leading to the back.

  Ellis was assuming I was being watched by Davis and didn’t want to be seen leaving this store. It was unlikely he was here on behalf of Davis. If I did have eyes on me, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  I gritted my teeth and made my way through the mailroom and into the print store before heading back outside. Inter-agency politics was something I despised, and I’d barely gotten a taste of it last summer after the dive that put me on Davis’s radar. I had a distinct feeling I was about to step into it deeper.

  I watched the light change and briskly made my way across the street and over to the diner. The quiet jingle of the bell as I stepped inside brought a waitress over immediately as I scanned for Ellis, spotting him in the back.

  “I’m meeting someone who looks to already have a table.” I smiled and she nodded, grabbing a menu.

  She followed behind me and filled my glass with water as I slid into the booth.

  “Anything I can get you?”

  “A cup of coffee,” I said, glancing at Ellis’s cup of the same. “Thanks.”

  She turned over my cup and left the table to retrieve the pot.

  “Wise decision to meet me,” Ellis said, looking over my shoulder.

  He managed to find the one place to sit out of the way and not near any windows.

  “I didn’t know there was a choice in the matter.” My expression was impassive as I waited for Ellis to tell me what he wanted.

  He shook his head and waited until the waitress poured my coffee and topped off his.

  “I heard there was a scuffle of some sort that led to your dismissal?” he asked.

  “Correct. I didn’t particularly feel like getting attacked on my way home so I took care of the problem.”

  A slight nudge of Ellis’s lips made me relax slightly.

  “I don’t blame you.” He took a sip of the coffee.

  “Davis wasn’t thrilled about it.”

  “But it got you where you needed to be.”

  “She doesn’t believe in luck,” I countered.

  “She should learn to acknowledge its usefulness.” He set the cup down.