Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
By noon, I’m in the war room at Levcon with Yuri, Marcus, and Pavel. I’ve got the banking documents pulled up on the projector, and we go over them together. All three work for Levcon and the Bratva, so I can trust them to look at these figures and give it to me straight. If we do have a mole in our camp, we need as much evidence as possible to weed them out.
“Walk me through it again,” I ask Pavel, who’s shockingly good with numbers.
Pavel taps on one of the accounts.
“The siphon started about three years ago. Ten to twenty grand at a time, buried in vendor batches. The pattern changed about six months ago. Bigger pulls, timed to quarter close. The total missing now sits at five point six million.”
“Where does it land?” I ask.
“Three layers through cutouts,” he says. “We thought Kozlov at first, but it doesn’t fit their footprint. The last hop pings to a trust that buys heavy equipment in Newark. That trust is managed by a boutique firm in Brooklyn that reports advisory work for a Petrov holding.”
“Which Petrov?” I ask.
“Not the main family,” Pavel says. “A cousin camp that handles their expansion money. I’ve got two names on paper, both clean on first pass. No arrests. No public flags. They show up at charity nights and courtside seats.”
“Do we have a source on the inside?” I ask Marcus.
He shakes his head. “They’ve blacked out all outsiders. They’re extremely cautious. Their security turnover is high. They have new guards and new drivers every three months. They’re running routes I don’t recognize.”
“Can you get me a meeting?” I ask him.
“With who?” Marcus asks pointedly. “The Petrov who smiles for cameras, or the one who signs back-alley deals? They’re two sides of the same coin.”
“Both,” I say. “In sequence.”
Yuri leans forward. “The Delancey hit and the photo at the gate could be cover, just noise. If this is Petrov, they’re trying to edge into our cash while we’re looking at Kozlov.”
“Or it’s Kozlov wearing Petrov skin,” Pavel says. “We’ve seen that trick before. They’re starting a conflict with us to hide that they’re warring with each other.”
“We need a name I can put on a wall,” I say. “No more circling. I want the person inside my house who’s helping this happen.”
Pavel nods. “I’m pulling every badge swipe from accounting, ops, and vendor management for the last twelve months. I’ve got a list of people who touched these batches. We can narrow by who was in the building during each siphon. It’s tedious, but we’ll find them.”
“It isn’t tedious,” I correct. “It’s necessary.”
Marcus clears his throat. “We should talk about the restaurant breach from yesterday,” he reminds us. “That was a bold hit in daylight.”
“We’ll address it,” I say. “After I know who to pin it on.”
I have to weed out the threat to my family and, at the same time, find the threat to my business. I’m praying it’s the same threat. It’s possible the Petrovs and Kozlovs are working together to bring me down, and I can’t let that stand.
“Let’s go over next steps,” I say.
“I’ll keep pulling threads on the trust,” Pavel says. “I’ll get you the human behind the paperwork.”
“I’ve got the security tapes from the attack,” Yuri says next. “We can see if we can match any of the guys there to Pavel’s logs. Even if not, it’ll be good to ID the shooters.”
I nod and look to Marcus.
“I’ve already locked down vendor adds and frozen the budget,” he confirms. “Nothing gets through without two signatures. Mine and yours.”
“Good,” I say. “At least we won’t need to worry about more money leaving the company. Go on, then.”
I dismiss them, but Yuri stays back, wanting a private word. As my second-in-command, he’s the only one who can ask for my unscheduled time.
“Say it.” I sigh warily, already sure he’s going to give me a lecture.
“You’re running hot,” he observes. “You’re snapping at people who don’t deserve it. Poor Marcus is just trying to help out, and you nearly bit his head off.”
“I’m allowed to be stressed,” I say.
“Of course you’re allowed,” he agrees. “It’s still sloppy.”
I look at him. He looks back, his gaze steady.
“I told them to find me a name,” I say. “They will.”
“They will,” he agrees. He studies my face, then my hands, then the phone I haven’t checked in ten minutes. “How’s Mari?”
“She’s fine,” I answer too quickly.
“I notice she isn’t here. Are you making her work from the penthouse?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say shortly, already knowing where he’s headed with this.
“And she didn’t argue with you about it?” he probes, knowing more than most how stubborn she can be.
“No. She accepted it pretty well,” I say.
He nods once. The silence stretches.
“And that has nothing to do with where we found her yesterday?” he asks, far more observant than most.