Gavril
I flipped the page back with a frown, rereading the column of numbers that were staring up at me. That couldn’t be right.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and squinted at the numbers, trying to make sense of it all. Anatoly was the only one who knew I f*****g hated to wear reading glasses, preferring to strain my eyes so no one would see a weakness that I couldn’t do anything about.
Call me vain, but I wasn’t old enough for reading glasses, nor did I have the time to go get my eyes fixed.
So squinting was the result.
Still, even with my bad eyesight, there was no mistaking the numbers there. It was a list of all the shipments that had come from Russia to LA over the last two months, from the women to the additional goods like weapons and drugs meant to placate what was
