Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“I’m bringing him inside,” Kynan says when I connect the call. “Get Cruce and Dozer, then meet us in the conference room.”
♦
I stand in between Cruce and Dozer. They’re tall and solidly built, both dwarfing me. They have their arms crossed over their chests, glaring through the glass walls of the conference room. Kynan talks to Griffin as they stand tensely near one another. Can’t hear what they’re saying, but neither looks happy. Saint sits in one of the chairs, listening intently. He looks perplexed.
“I don’t like him,” Dozer says after a moment.
“That makes two of us,” Cruce adds.
Both men are clearly being protective of me, but I can’t help but stand in coalition with them. “I don’t like him either.”
Because the creepy motherfucker has managed to follow me to my place of work. For the life of me, I cannot fathom why.
Kynan twists his head, sees us standing in the hall, and motions us in. My feet feel like lead, but I make myself move.
I force myself to keep my eyes locked on Griff as I enter the conference room. He returns it, jaw set in iron and lips flattened in dismay. What the hell does he have to be so pissy about? It’s my privacy he’s violated.
It’s tensely silent as Kynan moves to shut the door, then pulls the blinds on the floor-to-ceiling glass that looks out into the hallway.
Once we have absolute privacy from the rest of the company, I pivot toward Kynan. “Why is he here? Why did he follow me—”
Griff interrupts. “My name is Griffin Moore.”
I turn in shock. “No. It’s Griffin Stoltz.”
“No, my last name is Moore. Stoltz is my alias. I’m undercover with the FBI.”
“Bullshit,” I mutter.
“I checked him out,” Kynan offers. “Made a call while we were walking in here. He’s legit.”
My knees go weak. He’s here investigating me? But I haven’t done anything wrong. I work for a legitimate company, and I paid the price for my crimes.
Well, actually… I never paid the full price. Kynan got me released from prison well before I was eligible for parole.
A horrifying thought occurs to me. I grab Kynan by the arm, holding on desperately. “I cannot go back to prison, Kynan. It’s not fair.”
“Relax,” he assures me, taking hold of my hand and giving it a squeeze. He nods over to Griff. “He’s not here for you.”
I spin back to face Griffin. He looks neither apologetic nor friendly, but with Kynan holding my hand, I feel secure. “What do you want?”
“Anatoly Bogachev,” he replies, and those two words cause bile to flood my throat. I choke. Kynan’s hand tightens on mine, and his arm comes around my waist to support me. This doesn’t escape Griff’s attention, and his eyes narrow on Kynan.
“I see you know who I’m talking about,” Griff says curtly.
I nod. “Head of Kobaloi.”
“Kobaloi?” Dozer asks.
Griff turns to answer his question directly. “I work in the Cyber Division of the FBI. Anatoly Bogachev is Russian mafia, and he’s suspected of managing and directing a major cybercriminal enterprise that spans numerous countries. It’s been called Kobaloi after a Greek monster that loved to trick mortals. I’ve been undercover for the past two years working for him, trying to get enough information to bust up the ring. He’s the one who had Bebe steal the nuclear codes.”
I can feel Kynan’s hand jerk just as I can feel the weight of Cruce, Dozer, and Saint’s stares on me. None of them knew who I worked for when I was arrested. Not one single fucking person in this world knows, because I refused to give up the information. I knew if I kept my mouth shut and took the fall, Aaron and my mother would stay safe.
It still doesn’t explain why Griff is here. I pull my hand free from Kynan, move to the edge of the conference room table, and place my palms on it. Leaning toward him slightly, but glad for the distance and the solid table between us, I demand, “You seem to know a lot about me, but you lied to me, you asshole. What is your game?”
Kynan places his hand on my shoulder, but I shake it off, glaring at Griff.
He sighs, scraping his fingers through his hair. “I’m basically Anatoly’s muscle. He sent me here to find you. I didn’t know why at first. Had no clue what you were to him. After I located you, I googled you. Was able to piece enough together from the news articles about what you were arrested for to realize it was Anatoly you worked for. He somehow found out you got out of prison, and he ordered me to kill you.”
“So you cozy up to me and my son to get the job done?” I screech. “You lied to me. Played me.”