Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

“Yes, boss,” Boris says immediately.

The financial director speaks up. “That won’t work. Carlton Alders has fled. He must have seen my activity in the account. That I was pulling reports.”

“What?” I think for a moment, and then speak into the phone. “Did you hear that, Boris? Good. Carlton Alders. Find him. Today.”

I hang up and stand there silently, fuming. A thief. A fucking thief, getting his hands on my money, and then running away with it.

I notice that the financial director is still hovering at my elbow, staring around at the destruction and blood spatter. “Get out of my office!” I roar.

The man scurries away, and I’m left alone among the wreckage of my day. Bethany will be long gone. I see the wooden cigar box lying at my feet, the one she was going to smash Georgios’ head in with, and I give it a vicious kick.

Carlton Alders. I search my memory for everything I know about the man. I seem to remember him as a man in his fifties, silver-haired, British, Oxford-educated and conservative. The golfing sort. Tedious but necessary in this business. Who introduced him to…?

And then I remember who brought him to Ravnikar Enterprises. My brother. The one who’s got his mits all over the woman I want. I grab a clean shirt from my desk and stalk into the bathroom.

First thing in the morning, I’m going to pay a call on my brother. We’ve got a few things to hash out.

“Brata. It’s time we had a heart to heart.”

I put my fingertips together and peer over them at Mikhail. We’re sitting in his office, him surly and silent behind his desk, me lounging in a chair, one ankle crossed over the other. I smile at him, but his expression doesn’t flicker. That doesn’t tell me anything. He’s been guarded with me lately, and why? Because he’s unhappy?

Or because he’s a fucking traitor?

“What did you want to talk about?” he says finally.

“It’s been eighteen years since we started the company. I thought we should check in with each other about our goals.”

“What?”

I turn and look through the glass partition. Bethany is sitting at her desk, pale but calm as she types. She wouldn’t look at me as I stepped out of the elevator. I wanted to take her hand and press it against the bandage beneath my shirt. Georgios left me with a six-inch gash. I’ll take a thousand more cuts for her.

“Damir, I’m busy,” Mikhail snaps. “What did you want to talk about?”

Bethany stepped into my arms covered in blood, and then walked away from me. Georgios escaped the building and apparently goes on living. My brother might be a traitor. There are so many thorns in my ass right now that I don’t know which one to pull first.

Yes, I do. Traitors. They have to be dealt with first. Always first.

“I told you,” I say, swinging back to look at him. “I want to talk about us. How are you feeling about Ravnikar Enterprises?”

My brother squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Damir, I haven’t got the patience for your mind games right now. What’s happened?”

You’re fucking your PA when she clearly belongs to me. “Carlton Alders.”

“What about him?”

“He’s been embezzling from us.”

Mikhail sits up. “What?”

Spitting out each word like splinters of bone, I fill my brother in on what Alders has done. The stolen seventeen million pounds and fleeing yesterday when he knew he’d been discovered. I watch Mikhail closely the entire time, and there’s only confusion and outrage on his face.

And yet…

“You brought him to the company. That’s very interesting to me.”

Mikhail glares at me. “Meaning?”

“Just an observation.”