Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

"I still think you could help take down the cartel," he says and clears his throat, glancing at the dark window where my boss and I'm sure a handful of other agents are standing and watching the interrogation.

Except, he seems to be leading this interrogation, not the other way around. I can't help but wonder what the hell he's doing here. I'm sure the bureau isn't just going to let him go. They'll detain him, legally, for as long as they can—twenty-four hours—and then he'll be a free man.

Unless they can get something out of him.

"That's not why you're here. We both know better," I say and scoot my chair back. If he's not going to talk and provide us with information, I'm leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"I have work to do," I say, pretending not to be the least bit interested in conversing with him. Kingston will be harder on Anton if I leave, and maybe that's what is needed.

When the hell did I become soft? I press my lips together, not wanting to even consider the reason is Anton, that the feelings I pretended to have seeped into me, making me like the man.

I shouldn't like him.

I should despise him, except I don't.

There's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I swear the man can read my mind, but that isn't physically possible. "Sit, let's talk."

"I'll sit if you'll tell me about Mikhail and the operation that he runs."

Anton leans back and folds his arms across his chest. "Why don't you let me do the talking, kitten?" This time the pet name slips out, and it's not the least bit quiet.

The room swelters, but I'm sure it's my cheeks burning, not the temperature increasing. I don’t want Anton to think that he's in control. I'm the one with the power. Not him.

I approach the door and grab the handle.

Anton groans, realizing I'm about to leave and he'll have to deal with someone else. "Wait," he says and exhales a soft breath of air.

He's gotten my attention. I glance back at him. "Are you going to talk?"

"Isn't that what I've been doing all along?" He gives me a smirk, but there's a hint of nervousness behind his cool demeanor. His exterior is all business, tough and rugged. But there's a flash of anxiety behind his eyes. Is it because he's here and the bratva isn't going to take kindly to traitors?

I approach the table but don't sit. "Tell us everything about the Russian Bratva."

He chuckles and seems to relax. "That could take all night, kitten."

"Quit calling me that!" As soon as I snap at him, I regret it. In truth, I like the endearing name that he's given me, but I can't look weak amongst the men at the bureau or appear compromised in any way.

"Yes, would you prefer that I call you Agent Savannah Blakely?" he asks, using my last name, not the phony one I gave him when we first met.

"Tell me about the bratva," I repeat, wanting him to quit stalling.

"You're going to need to be more specific." He's a little too calm and collected for walking in and turning himself in to the feds.

Does he no longer care that he'll be a traitor to his people? "Let's start with the Pakhan, Mikhail."

"Name doesn't ring a bell," Anton says.

"Is there a different leader of the bratva?" I ask. Everything that we've gathered points to Mikhail Barinov running the organization.

"There are multiple bratva organizations across Russia. I don't know any of the members personally."

A loud rap against the window indicates that I should withdraw and discuss amongst the agents. Without another word, I head for the door.

"Savannah," Anton says, wanting my attention.

I'm tempted not to turn around, not to play any more of his games. I open the door and glance back at Anton. "Someone will be with you shortly." I stalk out and shut the door behind myself.

The adjacent door opens, and Agent Kingston steps out along with several other higher-ups.

"We're having him transferred," Kingston says, giving me a heads up.

"To where? Do you have anything to hold him on?"

"We'll find something," Agent Danvers says, giving me a knowing wink. He's another Supervisory Special Agent for a different division. I haven't worked with him often, but there are rumors, none of which are good or bode well for Anton.

I head down the hallway for the elevator. Arguing with a Supervisory Special Agent isn't going to help my career or the situation with Anton.

Just as the doors begin to shut, Barrett slips inside the elevator. "I get it. You're pissed."

"It's not that," I say and fold my arms. "Do you think we should be transferring Anton when we don't even have something to charge him with yet?"

"It's not up to me. But he will talk," Barrett says.

He's a little too confident.

"Are you sure about that?" I press the button for our floor and wait for the elevator to ascend.

"He came here looking for you."