Ruthless Reign: A Dark Mafia Forbidden Romance (Tarnished Reign Book 1)

Chapter 28

When the foremangives the signal, I step out of my car into the dark, frigid night alongside Viktor, our syndicate”s head of security. I gesture to the vehicles behind me, and a dozen of my men quickly follow, moving toward the ship that docked just minutes ago.

Ports are nasty places, especially this one on the edge of the Black Sea. It smells like dead fish and broken dreams, but I find it oddly comforting. This area of the port is Belov property, and no one in their right mind would mess with us here, including the authorities.

From the gangway, Viktor and I enter onto the cargo deck, where the longshoremen are waiting on our instructions. They haven’t started unloading because they know our men need to personally inspect each and every container, filled with millions of dollars of cocaine, as it comes off the ship.

It”s not our usual operating procedure, but since the late shipment and Anatoly’s secret meetings with the Zhukov Bratva, I’m being cautious. I don’t trust the guy worth shit.

“I’m gonna go down and let the guys know what we’re looking for,” Viktor says, heading towards the crew.

I nod and make my way to the upper deck when something catches my eye. A single high-heeled shoe, scuffed and abandoned, sticking out from under a sealed container door.

That’s fucking strange. I can’t imagine a single woman has set foot on this ship, possibly ever.

Maybe I’m overthinking things. I toss the high heel behind me and climb the stairs to find myself a better vantage point.

The heavy scent of salt and metal fills the air as I give a signal to my men to start. One by one, each container is lowered onto the ground. The clang and clatter of chains and machinery echo as the foreman opens the first container and our men step inside to confirm the delivery hasn’t been tampered with. We’ll weigh and test the product once we get it back to our warehouse, but I want to make sure nothing’s been opened while en route.

Viktor comes up beside me, resting his arms on the railing. His black hair glints blue in the ship’s artificial lights as both of us watch the proceedings below. As each container is checked and verified, my men step out and give us the thumbs up.

I can feel Viktor’s scrutinizing gaze on me before he speaks. “So far, so good. No sign of tampering on this shipment … or the last.”

I huff out a breath, which turns into a white cloud in the cold air. “I know, but something still feels off.”

Viktor sighs and brushes a knuckle over his chin. “Is this about Anatoly’s secret meeting with the Zhukovs or something else?”

A pang hits me square in the chest. If the “something else” is a dark auburn-haired beauty I can’t get out of my mind, then yeah. My distrust of Anatoly may have something to do with her and that bruise on her face, or the way she puts on a faux-sweet voice when she’s trying to calm him down.

It reminds me so much of how my mother was with my father. How she carefully tiptoed around his temper, always trying to keep the peace in a house that was anything but peaceful.

I couldn’t protect my mother, but every damn instinct inside me screams for me to take care of Liza, even though it’s not in my own best interest.

Fuck. Maybe I’m losing it.

When I don’t answer, Viktor claps me on the back. “Got some intel on the Zhukovs.”

My eyebrows raise. “You have my attention.”

Since learning of their identity, we’ve been making inquiries into the Zhukov Bratva. It’s headed by two brothers, Nikolai and Sergey. Although Nikolai, the older of the two, was in jail until recently.

“The short version is that Sergey, the younger Zhukov, has been stepping up to assert his control in St. Petersburg while Nikolai was in jail. He’s been fighting gangs for larger territories and monopolizing the illegal arms trade in the city. He’s got balls, but he’s rash. It’s the kind of shit that could easily spiral into a full-scale gang war.”

“And the brother?”

“Word is that Nikolai’s the brain and Sergey the brawn. Now that Nikolai is free and stepping back into his role as pakhan, there”s definitely tension between the brothers.”

“A power struggle always keeps things interesting,” I comment. “Maybe that’s why Nikolai wasn’t at the midnight meeting with Anatoly, why it was only Sergey. Any more intel about that meeting?”

Viktor releases a frustrated sound. “Not yet. His inner circle is tight. No one’s talking.”

“Keep digging. Whatever business they have with Anatoly doesn’t sit right.” I frown, watching my men methodically go through each container. “I’m still suspicious about the delay of our last shipment.”

Viktor huffs out a laugh like maybe he thinks I’ve lost the plot. “Everything was in order; none of the goods were tampered with.” He shrugs. “I’m not saying the man’s a saint, but delays because of bad weather are common in the middle of winter.”

“That might be true, but I know what my gut is telling me.” I flash him a devious grin. “And I found a way to get some answers.”

“Which is?” He pulls the beanie lower on his head and blows a breath into his hands.

“To use my body and charm to get what I want.”

Viktor groans, but I’m not entirely kidding.

“You and your fucking plans,” he grumbles. “What do you have in mind?”

“We only see the shipping logs that Anatoly’s team sends us. Well, I have an insider at the company who will send us the originals. No questions asked.”

“What”s the catch?”

“I have to go on a date with Katerina Petrovich.” I grit my teeth. “To the opera.”

Viktor drags a knuckle over his jaw. “Seriously? You at the opera? I don’t see it.”

“Yeah, well, we all have to make sacrifices from time to time.”

Katerina has been sending me flirty texts since the night we met at the Ivanovs’ dinner party. I’ve been ignoring them, having absolutely no interest in her, but recently it occurred to me how short-sighted I’ve been. Katerina works in the family business—she has access to all sorts of company information.

So I made her a deal. I told her I’d misplaced the shipping logs that we had been sent and felt like too much of a dumbass to ask Anatoly’s men to resend. She agreed to send me copies of whatever I wanted if I take her to Carmen at the Bolshoi this weekend. God help me.

Viktor shakes his head but can’t suppress his amused grin. “You sure that”s a good plan? Katerina might get the wrong idea.”

“Nah, she doesn”t care about getting serious. She just wants to be seen on my arm and fuck a man with bratva tattoos.” Not that I’ll be fucking her.

In fact, the one bright spot in all of this is that Liza will be at the opera with Anatoly. I don’t mind one bit if she feels a sting of jealousy seeing me with another woman.

Viktor winks and thumps me on the back. “I wish you luck.” His smile drops as something in the distance catches his eye. “What the fuck is that?”

We both squint into the night and spot a dark van with no license plates rolling quietly through the shadows of the shipping containers. “An uninvited guest.”

In a matter of seconds, I’ve reached into my waistband. My gun aimed, I shoot at the van, the crack of gunfire echoing across the port.

The van lurches but then suddenly revs its engine, barreling forward. The side door slides open, revealing men in balaclavas who open fire on our operations.

“Fuck, it’s an ambush!” I shout as our men catch on to the action, drawing their weapons and returning fire.

We sprint down the ship’s stairs, our boots clanging on the metal. Bullets fly in both directions. One of our guys goes down, clutching his shoulder.

The van door slams shut and the van peels off, tires screeching as it races toward the gate. Shots ring out as our men continue to fire, but the van crashes through the gate, metal crumpling and splintering under the force.

Viktor curses, slamming his fist into a crate as we watch the taillights fade into the distance.

“Goddammit!” I snarl, breathless. My pulse races, rage boiling.

If someone has a message for us, they should deliver it like actual men. Make your presence known rather than staging an anonymous drive-by shooting in the dark of night.

Viktor is on his phone, barking orders to his hackers to use satellite imagery to track the van speeding away. When he hangs up, he looks at me for directions.

I roll my neck, tension knotting in my shoulders and down my back. “We find the bastards who did this,” I command through clenched teeth. “And we kill every single one of them.”