The Director (Chicago Bratva 1)

“Did someone hurt her?” Lucy’s alarmed. Her hand’s clammy and stiff in mine, and I can sense her mind spinning. “What happened, Adrian?”

Adrian shoots a look at me.

I nod.

“Yes, she was hurt. Badly. Now she’s too afraid to go outside.” He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

“We should get her some counseling, Adrian,” I say.

Adrian shrugs helplessly. “If you know one who speaks Russian, I will drag her there.”

“Maybe telecall,” I say, thinking of how Lucy conducts all her business seamlessly from my room. “I’ll arrange something.”

“Was this why you set the fire?” Lucy asks.

I blink, surprised at how quickly she put it together.

Adrian frowns, darting a glance at his sister. He neither confirms nor denies.

“Was she hurt at the sofa factory?” Lucy gasps, putting the rest of it together. “She was a sex slave?” Tears fill her eyes.

As if reminded of the horror his sister went through, Adrian loses his irritation with Nadia and the situation. He steps forward and wraps his arms around his sister. “Another day,” he murmurs in Russian. “We’ll try another day.”

I pull Lucy in, and we hit the button to go up.

“So the fire was for revenge? Or was it part of a rescue?”

“Revenge,” Adrian says coldly. When he turns, there’s still murder in his eyes. “I freed them all the week before.”

Lucy nods a tear skidding down her cheek. “Well, that makes a great defense.”

Adrian eyes her. He’s brave, but I know he’s afraid. Mostly afraid of leaving his sister here alone if he ends up in prison. I’ve already pledged to take care of her if that happens.

“No promises, but I don’t believe we’ll need it. I think I can get the evidence suppressed on a technicality. We’ll find out tomorrow at the prelim.”

Relief makes Adrian slouch against the elevator wall. He brings the heels of his hands to his forehead. “That would be great. Thank you. Thank you, that would be great.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lucy promises.

After we leave them on their floor, she turns to me, a line between her brows. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she accuses.

“I told you. It wasn’t my story to tell.”

“It’s horrible.”

“I know. She was kidnapped in Russia by Ukranian slavers. Adrian is lucky to have found her alive.”

“Did he come here just to find her? Or was he already here?”

“He came to find her. He’s been here eight months, but he only found her last month.”

Another tear slips from Lucy’s eye. She swipes at it. “Damn hormones. I cry at everything.”

“Nadia is worth your tears,” I say.

She nods. “Yes.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “You helped him,” she says. “You helped him find her, and you bailed him out of jail.”

“Of course. But I did not set the fire, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not. I’m just starting to understand the whole picture.”

“If I had set the fire, Leon Poval would be dead, and no one would’ve been caught,” I say.

Lucy goes still a moment, and I realize I said too much. She doesn’t like my violent ways. But then she gives me a single nod. “I’m sure you would’ve done it right,” she says.

I wrap my arm around her back and escort her off the elevator, drawing her close to me, so I can kiss the top of her head. “Do you really think you can get him off?”

“There’s a good chance. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

Chapter 16

Lucy

“The preliminary hearing is like a mini-trial,” I explain to Adrian and Ravil as we sit on the long wooden bench outside the courtroom. “The prosecution will call witnesses and introduce evidence, and then I can cross-examine witnesses. It gives us a chance to see what they have and intend to use against you. From what I can tell, their case is pretty flimsy and hinges on evidence they found at your apartment, which they searched without a proper warrant.”

My phone dings, and I check the text. It’s from Sarah.

I told her I would go to court for Adrian’s preliminary hearing despite my bed rest. She asked a ton of questions, the answers to which I’m sure she rushed to share with Dick.

She’s supposed to meet me here with the documents I had her prepare, as well as the entire file for the case, but she sends me a last minute text saying she’s sending a courier instead.

“I don’t like it,” I mutter aloud when I read it.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I think our summer associate is sleeping with one of the partners. The one who wants me out. And now she says she’s not coming with the paperwork I need but is sending it by courier.”

Ravil’s eyes narrow.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

His brows pop up. “You can’t know what I”m thinking.”

“Was it doing something evil to protect me from the assholes at my law firm?”