It was a little bit of a conundrum. He couldn’t imagine Nelson and Charlie together.

“I think Charlotte is damn good at her job. If she thought the risk was worth the reward, she would take it.” But Jesse’s words were worming into his head. It was a different situation. She could easily have just shown up at his place without the song and dance routine in St. Augustine. She’d put a good two years into that operation. What did she really get out of it?

“If it means anything, I believe her,” Simon said. “I think she’s done just about everything to protect that sister of hers. Her sister admitted that she was the one who wrote to Nelson.”

Of course she would if they had gotten their stories straight. Ian had lost the opportunity to question them separately since he’d been far too angry to think rationally.

There was logic to what Charlie did to him.

He went through the photos Adam had left. Four pictures of two men Ian would deeply like to murder, and in a horribly visceral way.

How much of Charlie’s story had been complete bullshit? The scars on her body were real. He’d seen the pictures of her mother’s murdered body.

Was Charlotte so cold that she would work with the same syndicate that murdered her mother and tortured her for years?

Logically, he knew it could happen. She could have been indoctrinated. It had happened many times before. She could be a deeply good actress.

“What’s he doing? He looks like he’s going to kill someone,” Jesse whispered.

Fuck. Jesse was turning into Adam 2.0. He had to shut that shit down. He narrowed his eyes and gave the new guy his most intimidating stare. “Are you volunteering? It’s been a couple of hours since I killed someone and I’m starting to get the itch.”

Jesse grunted a little. “See. Just like the damn Army.”

“I’m bringing Sean into this. He was in Florida with Charlie and this affects him, too.” Ian found the phone and dialed his brother’s cell.

“This is Sean. Hans, are you trying to cook the duck or make it your bitch?”

He hated interrupting his brother at work, but he needed advice. Actually he really hated needing fucking advice. What was he? A “Dear Abby” fan? God, Charlotte had taken his dick. “Sean, it’s Ian. I need to conference you in on something.”

The sounds of a busy kitchen came over the line. “Sure. Give me a sec. Don’t you stop stirring that sauce. I swear to god I’ll murder you if it scorches.”

The door opened and Adam escorted Grace inside, each taking empty seats.

“Doesn’t this affect Charlotte, too?” Alex asked. “Shouldn’t she be in on this?”

“She’s taking a time out.”

“Hey, Sean,” Adam said, leaning toward the speaker phone. “You missed out yesterday. Big Tag made a porno with his wife.”

Grace gasped. “Adam, you are not supposed to talk about that.”

“Shut up, everyone.” He was going to stop this soap opera in its tracks. “We have something serious to talk about. Sean, can you talk?”

“Yep. Adam kind of had my attention at porno,” Sean’s voice said over the speaker phone. “Grace, love, you don’t need to be looking at big brother’s junk, though I’m sure it took up most of the screen.”

“He wasn’t naked, Sean. Charlotte was,” Grace said.

“Oh, well, that’s totally different.”

Ian took firm control of his temper. “Eli Nelson is working with the Denisovitch syndicate.”

Thank god that got everyone quiet.

Grace picked up one of the pictures as she sat down at the conference table. “This is Russia. I thought he was supposed to be in India.”

“Yes, I believe that’s what Charlotte said. Charlie wants me to think he’s in India, and Nelson obviously wants me to head to Russia.” That was a problem for him. He just needed to figure out why it was a problem. He could go one of two ways.

Eve studied one of the pictures. “He’s relaxed. He isn’t worried or tense. Do you see the slump of his shoulders?”

Yes, the fucker seemed to be having a lovely time plotting with the Russian mobster. “Yes. I see that.”

“Denisovitch, the first one, Charlotte’s dad, he was the Russian Nelson set up as the terrorist out to buy the uranium from the Irish mission,” Adam explained. It had almost cost Liam his life, and it had certainly cost him his brother. “Or he was at least working with Denisovitch in order to make the threat credible. Did he assassinate his partner so he wouldn’t have to share the money? Was Mikhail in on it?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t think so. From all the intelligence I’ve gathered over the years, Mikhail was deeply loyal to his brother. If he’s in bed with Nelson, it’s for one of two reasons. One. He doesn’t know that Nelson was the assassin who killed his brother. He believes Nelson’s story, which is very likely that Charlotte killed her own father and stole his money. Two. My intelligence is wrong and all three are in on it together.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been wrong.

They all started talking at once again. It gave Ian a headache. He looked out the window that showed the office. Grace hadn’t drawn the blinds up because she needed to be able to see if someone walked into the lobby, but it also gave Ian a great view of the accounting office. Phoebe had left her blinds open, too, and there sat Charlotte with her strawberry hair flowing down her back and her eyes on Phoebe. Chelsea was glum beside her sister, her eyes on the ground. He’d expected that Phoebe would be doing what she always did, focusing on her computer and nothing else, but she was talking. Animatedly. She was smiling and gesturing around.

She reached up and pulled down a bobblehead. He’d noticed she kept a collection of bobbleheads in her office on a shelf. Harry Potter bobbleheads.

Charlie turned, her face a mask of horror as she looked out the window. Their eyes caught, and she sent him the same pleading look she used when her ass was too sore to take another single slap.

He’d thought he was punishing Charlie with silence. No. She was going to get a whole afternoon of Harry Potter talk.

Ian couldn’t help it. He let his head fall back, and he laughed. It was perfect. It was beyond any punishment he could have come up with.

Charlie put a hand on the window, her lips curling into a sad little smile before she turned back and listened to her lecture.

What the hell was he going to do with her? Ask her if she’d slept with the men she claimed to be her worst enemies? The man who was his worst enemy?

Or realize that it didn’t matter. That she could have slept with a thousand men and he would still fucking want her.

He could take her. He could make her submit. He could make sure she never strayed or did another damn criminal thing again. He would keep her barefoot and so fucking pregnant that she couldn’t even think about running from him or building another criminal enterprise.

God, he might be going insane. He needed to think, but there never seemed to be the time. He needed advice.

“Eve, what do you think about Charlie? You spent time with her in Florida. You’ve been watching her since she’s been here.”

All eyes went to Eve. “I think she’s telling you the truth. I think she loves you and she’s been working to get back to you. If you want to know what I think about Zhukov…”

He shook his head, interrupting her. He didn’t want to hear that shit. He needed to make those decisions on his own. “Don’t give me personal stuff. Tell me if I can trust her when it comes to giving me intelligence on Nelson.”

“Yes,” Eve replied. “I think she’s trying to be honest, at least with you and the people you consider family. She’s looking for a home. She was willing to die in order to save Alex, and it wasn’t because she loved Alex. She wanted to prove herself to you. I trust her with my life.”

“Sean?” He trusted Eve’s opinion, but he trusted Sean’s intuition.

Sean sighed. “If she only wanted to cause chaos, why not just show up?”

“Because I would have shot her.”

“No, my brother, you wouldn’t have. You would be in the same damn position,” Sean said, his voice holding a nauseating sympathy.

Ian held up a hand. “All right then. We have some decisions to make. I didn’t want to make them without talking to the whole team because we’re gambling here.”

“You think Nelson wants us to believe he’s staying in Russia,” Jake said. “He’s played it this way before. He wanted us to go to England. I say we don’t play into the fucker’s hands. He wants us in Russia. We go to India.”

Adam pointed to the picture. “He looks like he’s got a tan. He sure as fuck didn’t get it in Saint Petersburg. Let’s go to the beach.”

“You’re not going to the beach, mate.” Simon sat back in his chair, an almost predatory look in his eyes. Yeah, sometimes he reminded Ian why he’d hired the Brit. “I’m going. How am I going to explain the idiot? Oh, I know he’ll fit in there better than I will, but we don’t exactly look like gay lovers.”

Jesse’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. That was not part of my contract.”

Simon was overthinking this thing. “Don’t worry about cover yet. Let’s get boots on the ground and figure out what we need. Just grab some beachwear and your kits.”

“How much time do I have?” Simon asked.

“We leave as soon as the MI6 boys can get the private jet fueled. It’s all I can give you. I need eyes on the ground there. Adam, I’m going to need paperwork and visas.”

Adam nodded. “I keep a spare set for every one of us in case of emergency.”

“I’m going to call some of my contacts at the Agency and see if I can find out if they have anything on Denisovitch.” He would have to talk to Ten again to see if he was holding out on him. The Agency usually didn’t give up information until it was asked for.