Protective

Blood

Yeremy

"He didn't say anything helpful," Dmitri said, handing me a towel.

I wiped the blood off my hands, "Is it possible that he doesn't actually know anything?"

Dmitri sighed, "Maybe. He hasn't cracked at all."

"I get the feeling that regardless of our methods, he's not going to talk. He has to know that he's going to die regardless," I shook my head, "At least we know one thing."

Dmitri furrowed his brows, "What's that?"

"Petyr isn't in Russia anymore," I replied. It was an assumption of course, I couldn't be sure but I was.

I was absolutely sure that Petyr was here, watching closely.

"Why do you say that?" Dmitri pressed.

"He asked for a trinket," I started, "It's very simple but for a psycho like him this meant a lot. He has to know that she wore it, seen it on her body for himself for it to provide him with the high he's after. He saw her with the bracelet on and told one of his men to fetch it."

"If you're right then my father's presence in Russia has become absolutely futile," Dmitri said.

"I'm right," I said, "He's here. He's close and we have to be much more careful now."

"That means school, work, home," he sighed, "An incredibly strict schedule. She's not going to like that."

"I don't know," I shook my head, "I think she understands the situation. She might be more compliant than you think. It's your father that I'm worried about."

"I get what you mean," Dmitri agreed, "He will not be happy that he was sent on a wild goose chase," he shrugged, "Although it's not completely futile. He has made a lot of the ground work to push the men that killed your father out of their positions."

"He's made more progress?" I asked. Truthfully, Mikhail didn't check in about anything other than Lana most days. If he was making such progress, why didn't he tell me?

Dmitri sighed, "I'm going to level with you. Everything my father does is purposeful. Everything. He gives you as much information as you need to slow this transition down."

"Why would he want to slow it down?"

"Honestly there are a number of reasons. Mostly he wants you to be here to protect my sister. He was hoping that he'd kill Petyr before finding concrete leads on your enemies locations, but unfortunately he has been unsuccessful," Dmitri shrugged, "The other part is that he is worried about you."

Worried? About me?

Why would Mikhail Petrov be worried about me?

"Let's just say my father has a soft spot for orphans," Dmitri said, "Once you're back running an organization you'll be on your own. No family, no friends, and zero allies."

I nodded, "I've thought about those things but I figure that I'll worry about it when the time comes."

"If you take anything away from your time with my family," Dmitri smiled, "No matter where you are in your life, no matter how impossible a possibility may be, prepare for it for it is better to be frustrated you wasted your time than to be dead."

______
Lana

Everything I had taken from the box was sprawled out on my closet floor. There were papers, photos, videos, and recording tapes everywhere and I sat in the very middle of the chaos.

I knew everything. It had taken me several hours but I combed through every last detail my father wrote and said about Yeremy.

I wasn't even sure how I felt about any of the information I learned. Although that wasn't true, I was empathetic.

He lost everything, his family, his fortune, and his birthright.

I assumed his quickness to accuse me of being spoiled was because he came from humble beginnings but he was rich up until two years ago.

That's when his training with my father began. The tape recordings and the videos were all of my father's notes on his progress. My training was child's play compared to the brutality of his.

When he had first come to my father he was as tall as his is now but his strength increased tenfold. By the end of the two years, his muscles had muscles and his thighs were wider than my head.

Dmitri was right when he said that Yeremy was good. Especially when I thought about how little time he had to train. Dmitri had trained for nearly a decade before my father sent him on his first mission.

Among the tape recordings there was a sparring match between Dmitri and Yeremy. It was surprising to see just how matched they were.

Despite being able to land only one punch, he was able to block most of Dmitri's attacks. That's unprecedented behavior for the average man let alone someone who had trained for as little time as he had.

I took a deep breath before gathering all of the things and putting them back in the box the way I had found them. There was no way I'd be able to return this tonight but I could hide it and try tomorrow.

I stashed the box inside the chest I kept locked with some of my more precious jewels and shut my closet door behind me before making my way to the kitchen.

I was starving and I was sure the cook was still in the kitchen, but unfortunately he wasn't the only one.

"Aren't you supposed to be out all night with my brother?"

Yeremy glanced over at me from the kitchen island where he had a plate of food and a glass of water.

"We came back early," he shrugged, "What are you doing awake so late? Calculus homework keeping you busy?"

I rolled my eyes before walking over to the chef and asking him for some of whatever Yeremy was eating. Then I slid over next to Yeremy and sighed.

"No, I was working on a portfolio for the swimsuit issue."

I wondered if he'd be upset to learn what I was truly doing. His entire life was wrapped up in a box and I had sifted through the entirety of it.

He made a 'mhm' sound before continuing to focus on his food. I was afraid of that. He wasn't going to stop keeping me at arms length.

As the chef presented me my plate, I realized just how angry I was because of that. Yeremy was practically ignoring me. Why?

"How did it go with the man you interrogated today?"

Yeremy shrugged, "He didn't say a word. We killed him."

"We?" I furrowed my eyebrows, "Since when was that a two man job. Did you hold the gun together?"

For the first time in days, Yeremy laughed and I felt myself smile. I liked his laugh more than I cared to admit and although I would never say it aloud, I liked it even more that I was the reason he laughed.

"Funny. I killed him, your brother told me to. We didn't need him alive if he wasn't going to talk."

I felt my shoulders tense. That meant that there were no actual leads to Petyr. We were in the same place while he was seemingly several steps ahead of us.

"So you learned nothing?" I said, with a tone that was much more accusatory than I had intended.

"I wouldn't say nothing," Yeremy retorted, "Thst mans boldness tells me that Petyr is close by."

I dropped my fork and looked at him, "He's in the states?"

"He is," Yeremy nodded, his face softening, "That makes it all the more easier to catch him."

"Or for him to catch me," I muttered.

"Don't say stuff like that," he said, almost angrily.

I rolled my eyes, "Afraid of losing your job security?"

"No," he sighed, "Afraid of losing you."

- - End of Chapter - -