Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

NINE

Savannah

Earlier in the VIP Room

"I'm pulling you out," Agent Kingston says, insisting I'm off the assignment.

I probably shouldn't have admitted to him that Madisyn is just on the other side of the wall in the lounge. Thankfully, they didn't lay eyes on one another; lucky break, I guess. But that doesn't diminish the immediate situation. The minute I leave the VIP room, I'll be expected to dance for Anton's friends and colleagues.

Madisyn will recognize me, and my cover will be blown.

"You can't pull me out, not yet. He trusts me. I already got a glimpse at the ledger this evening."

"A glimpse?" He raises an eyebrow as he sits on the plush sofa and spreads his arms out on the back.

I sit at the edge of the table across from him and slip out of my shoes. It's against the rules, but I don't think anyone is going to come breaking down the door over a minor slip-up. I stretch my legs and rest my feet on his lap.

"Start rubbing," I say with a wry grin, letting him give my toes a massage.

If anyone is watching the monitors, they can think it's his kink. He chuckles under his breath but rubs my feet, obliging my request. The camera footage will look like two people conversing. The music is loud enough that there is no chance of anyone overhearing our conversation, unlike behind the curtain, where the guards are just a few feet away.

"What's this about the ledger?" Barrett asks. His eyes are trained on me as he works the tension out of my feet.

I almost want to pull away, the gesture far too intimate with my supervisor, but there are worse things I could be doing for him here.

"Anton walked in and caught me reading it," I say.

"Shit," Barrett mutters and exhales a heavy sigh. "We should pull you out."

"What? No, it's fine. If he suspected anything, I'd already be dead." I can't help but worry, and the longer I avoid Anton, the worse his suspicions might get, but there is no chance that I'm going out into the lounge where Madisyn is with her new friends.

"And that doesn't worry you?" Barrett asks.

"Of course, it does, but I've got this. He trusts me. Give me a little longer."

Barrett nods and glances at the camera. He returns his undivided attention to me like I'm his prize. I suppose for the amount he's paying to give me a foot massage, he ought to pretend he's heavily enthralled in what's happening between us.

"Did you get pictures of the ledger?"

"Not possible wearing this little ensemble. Nowhere for me to stash my phone or any other camera."

Barrett doesn't argue because he knows that I'm right. "I'm not letting you out of my sight this evening. When your shift is over, I'm driving you home."

He doesn't know about the arrangement that Anton and I have, that the bratva boss drives me home every night after work. And if I told him, I'd be kicked off the investigation.

Sleeping with Anton wasn't part of the official arrangement. I don't regret it, not even the tiniest bit.

"Are you going to pay for the VIP room until closing?" As much as I don't want to be locked in with Barrett for the next couple of hours, I also can't come face-to-face with Madisyn. The other option is faking sick and bailing for the night.

"I have the bureau's credit card," Barrett says with a wry grin.

I chuckle under my breath. "Fine, but I'm not giving you a lap dance." I don't even want to think about what I had to do with James. Barrett is an upstanding guy. He'd never force himself on me. He's practically married, although it's to his job.

* * *

Barrett's cell phone rings as he drives out of the parking lot of Club Sage. "Kingston," he answers.

The phone is immediately on speakerphone, blasting through the speakers. Barrett doesn't get an ounce of privacy. It seems fitting after the last several hours where we were playing VIP.

"A New York Detective just ran information on the alias Savannah Parker," Dalia says. She's the newest hire, transferred in from another division after Madisyn left the department.

"What did they see?" Barrett asks as he heads away from the club.

"We scrubbed all possible data, and using Savannah's alias, a few articles that we planted popped up, but there's something else—" Dalia says as her voice trails off.

"What is it?" Barrett glances at me and his brow tightens, before returning his attention to the road.

"The detective used a photograph of Savannah to run through the database. It's possible he could be alerted of her status with the bureau if he runs her picture through all channels."

"Dammit!" He slams his fist against the steering wheel and takes a sharp turn at the next intersection. Cursing under his breath, he shakes his head, obviously displeased with this new revelation.

"I'm sure it's fine," I say. At least, I hope it is. I run my fingers over my jeans. My hands are sweaty.

I was quick to get changed and sneak out, being one of the first girls to leave when the club closed.

Agent Kingston heads farther from the apartment I'm renting temporarily for the undercover assignment. "My apartment is that way," I say, pointing in the opposite direction.

"I'm not taking you back to where you're doing undercover work. You're off the job," Barrett says.

"What?" I can't believe that I heard him correctly. He stayed with me until closing in the VIP room and paid for every minute together, only to have me abandon the assignment. It doesn't make sense.

"By morning, Anton will know that you're a federal agent. I'm not risking your life."