Sinful Embers (Vegas Bratva Kings #2)

9. RADOMIR

Chapter 9

RADOMIR

The moment we step off the jet at London Heathrow, I scan the arrivals terminal, eyes sharp for anything out of place. It's not paranoia—it's survival. Leigh is in enemy hands, and until I get her back, every shadow, every passerby, every fucking glance in my direction is a potential threat.

Sabrina strolls beside me, oversized purse slung over her shoulder, looking every bit the tourist in a flowy black dress, huge sunglasses, and a wide-brimmed hat. Everything with her is oversized. Amusement streaks through me—it’s probably because she’s only five-foot-four and petite, so everything just seems bigger in proportion to her.

"Is that our contact?" Oleksi nods toward the tall, stunning woman.

She has sleek black hair cut in a sharp bob, red lips, and the kind of grace that makes men hesitate. She wears tailored navy pants, a white silk blouse, and I notice she has a holster concealed under her navy blazer. Not the kind of woman you’d fuck with unless you had a death wish.

She spots us instantly and heads over, moving with lethal precision.

“Radomir, Oleksi, and Sabrina, I presume?” Her British accent makes her voice smooth and crisp. “I’m Syd Purdy. Nikolas sent me.”

"I hope we get to see the rare golden tiger here," Sabrina says, pulling off her sunglasses and eyeing Syd suspiciously.

“There are no golden tigers here,” Oleksi tells her, looking at her as if she’s stupid.

Syd gives him a scathing look. "Actually, there is." She turns to Sabrina. “We’ll have to go to the country zoo at night as that’s the only time you can see Oriol .”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Oleksi snarls. “Country zoo?’ His eyes narrow. “We’re not here for fucking tour of England.”

Syd nor Sabrina are phased by his outburst. Although something shifts in her eyes and her voice is low with a distinct warning tone. “I don’t remember asking if you were.” She turns to back to Sabrina. “Nikolas said you could vouch for your flight companions.”

“Yes.” Sabrina nods, grinning she points to me. “Saint.” Then to Oleksi. “Jackass.”

Right! Sabrina’s code to ensure we have the right person. I roll my eyes and sigh. I guess you can’t be too careful, and no one would know the crazy shit Sabrina makes up.

“It’s their safe code,” I explain to Oleksi.

“That’s some crazy shit.” Oleksi rubs his temples. My cousin doesn’t travel well.

Sydney’s lips twitch in amusement, and she nods, touching her ear. "Clear."

She looks past us and then at the two small duffle bags I have and the one slung over Oleksi’s shoulder. “Is that all your luggage?”

“Yes, we didn’t have much time to pack,” I reply.

Syd nods. “Where are you phones or any devices such as tablets, laptops, smart watches?”

“Nikolas took them before we left,” Oleksi’s voice is filled with impatience. “Are you wanting to strip search us or can we get the fuck out of this exposed terminal?”

Her eyes are cool as she stares at him for a few seconds then turns toward Sabrina and I. “Come on, I have a car waiting.”

We follow her out of the terminal where’s is nice bright sunny June day. A sleek black Range Rover is parked at the curb. The driver stands waiting for us. He’s stocky and muscular, with a scar bisecting his brow.

“This is Clyde Smythe,” Sydney introduces. “Your driver and additional security.” She turns to him. “These are our guests.”

Clyde gives me a once-over, assessing before his shrewd eyes move to Oleksi. He’s built like a tank, but his movements are sharp, controlled—he is definitely military-trained.

“Pleasure,” he grunts, opening the car door for us.

Oleksi slides in first with a grumbling Sabrina, who makes it clear she hates always being squashed in the middle, and I follow her. Sydney takes the passenger seat, and Clyde pulls out smoothly, merging into London traffic.

“Where about in London are we going?” Sabrina asks.

Her head swiveling from side to side, taking everything in. I nearly forgot this is her first time in England—it’s her first time leaving America—the first stamp in her passport.

“We’re heading to Mayfair,” Sydney says, twisting slightly to glance at Sabrina. “Nikolas has a townhouse there. One of his safe houses.”

Of course he does. The man may have walked away from his inheritance, but he’d still have the hefty salary from his elite job and probably still had a whopping trust fund enabling him to own property in Mayfair.

A thought strikes me and my brow creases. I wonder if Carlos has a trust fund even if he was disowned?

That could be one of the reasons my leech of an uncle latched onto the man and has kept him around as long as he has. From what I know of my uncle, his friends, lovers, and even fiancé didn’t live long. As Dmitri was cut off without a penny he’d need a cash cow.

We weave through the city, passing rows of immaculate Georgian townhouses. It’s wealth, old money—no different from the kind of power I grew up around in Vegas, but more refined. Less gold chains and diamond watches, more tailored suits and centuries-old estates.

Clyde pulls up to a white stone townhouse, four stories high, with black wrought-iron railings. Sydney leads us inside, punching in a code at the entrance.

The interior is sleek and modern, but with a warmth that surprises me—wood floors, high ceilings, and an open-plan living space with a large marble fireplace. A sleek bar lines the far wall.

Sydney tosses a set of keys on the cabinet beside the door. “Make yourselves comfortable. This is where you’ll be staying until we get more intel.” She nods down the hallway. “The kitchen is down there and is fully stocked as is the bar.” She walks down the hall. “There are rooms upstairs. Take your pick.” Turning into the home office she continues explaining. “Clyde’s on standby if you need him.”

Syd goes to a large painting of horses on the wall and pulls it open, revealing a hidden safe. She retrieves three phones and a black case, bringing them over to the large oak desk.

“Are those for us?” Sabrina points to the phones.

“Yes.” Syd hands us each one. “You have each other’s phone numbers on them, labeled as Guest 1, Guest 2, and Guest 3. My number is under Oriol, Clyde’s is Decker, Nikolas’s is Hunter, and Galina’s is Queen.”

“My mother’s on here?” My brows shoot up and I take the phone Sabrina hands to me.

“Yes, Nikolas asked us to put her on there.” Syd’s eyes narrow. “I take you know the rules. These are clean and can’t be traced, but you are not to put any other numbers on them unless authorized by Nikolas. No contact with family or friends back home or anywhere else in the world. And don’t use it for internet searches.”

She walks back to the safe and brings out a tablet, handing it to Sabrina. “This has all the necessary fail safes on it. Nikolas asked me to give it to you.”

“Thanks.” Sabrina’s eyes light up. “This is amazing.” She eyes the high-end device out like it’s her favorite candy bar.

Syd nods and gets back to the black box, flipping it open and sliding two pistols onto the desk.

“These two Glocks are unregistered.” She skillfully checks each one before handing one to me and one to Oleksi. “Clyde will kit you out with holsters and ammunition.”

She turns back to the box and pulls the top half off pulling out two cans of pepper spray. "These are for you, Sabrina." She smiles. "They’re not your average gun shop cans. They’re a bit more lethal, so be careful not to spray yourself—this stuff will melt your skin."

Sabrina whistles, her eyes lighting up even more than they did when she saw the tablet. “Awesome.”

“At least they’re not explosives,” I comment.

Sabrina quickly debunks my statement. “Wanna bet?”

“No more blowing shit up!” I put the Gun on the desk and power the phone on, and almost immediately, it rings.

I see it’s Nikolas.

“How long have you been waiting to get an alert my phone was turned on?” I answer.

“Not long,” Nikolas replies. “I take it you’re all settled in, and the accommodation is to your liking?”

"Five-star all the way," I reply. "Any news on Leigh?"

“I’ve got my people checking all Manning properties around England,” Nikolas says. “So far there is no sign of Leigh.”

My grip tightens around the phone. “Maybe they have her in one of their warehouses?” I suggest.

“We’re checking all Manning’s properties including warehouses, office building, even containers on the docks,” Nikolas assures me. “Trust me, son, I’ve thought of everything.”

I don’t miss the way he just called me son and for some reason it makes me feel closer to Leigh. I feel it also means Nikolas has just put his complete trust in me, like I’ve passed some test of his.

“I know,” I tell him. “It’s just getting a bit much and I feel like we’re limping along.”

“Hang in there.” Nikolas encourages me. “We’ll get her back, and I’ll update you as soon as I know more,” he continues. “Until then, lay low. And for God sake, look out for Rina and keep her reigned in. She has a big heart that unfortunately sometimes makes her react rather fiercely to situations.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep everything under control,” I promise.

His tone shifts. “Has Rina cracked any of the encryption in the fourth journal?”

Uh-oh—busted!

I look over at Sabrina and she frowns at me curiously.

“You know about that?”

“Do you really think if I didn’t want her to take it I’d have let her steal?” Nikolas laughs.

“I don’t think there’s much progress… yet,” I answer cryptically.

Nikolas sighs on the other end. "Keep me posted."

The call ends, and I fix Sabrina with a glare. “Her knows about your travel guide.”

“Yeah, I thought he did,” she says breezily and shrugs.

Oleksi groans from the doorway. “I need sleep,” he mutters and turns toward the office door. “Jet lag is a bitch. Wake me when you have something.”

I nod as he takes his things and leaves just as Syd walks back into the office with rolled up sheets of paper in her hands. I didn’t even realize she’d left the office.

“Clyde just brought you these.” Syd hands them to me. “They’re the plans for the Ice Man Industries head office in Manning Towers, Fenchurch Street.” She looks from me to Sabrina. “If you need anything else just give me a call. I have to head out, but Clyde is around if you need him.”

With that Syd leaves Sabrina and I standing awkwardly in the office for a few seconds.

“Should we check out the plans?” Sabrina’s eyes fall on the rolled up sheets I’ve put on the desk.

“Why don’t we freshen up first,” I suggest, needing a bathroom break and a cup of coffee. “Get some coffee and something to eat first.”

“Or…” Sabrina counters. “We can freshen up, look at the plans and then go out for coffee..” She grins. “Maybe around or near Manning Towers. That way I get to see a bit of London and we do some recon.”

“Good idea.”

Manning Towers, Fenchurch Street,

London

Sabrina and I blend seamlessly into the crowd of business professionals moving in and out of the towering glass building. Dressed in dark, neutral clothing, with hats and sunglasses, we look like any other person grabbing coffee in the attached café after having browsed through the hi-end boutiques installed in the small mall beneath the building.

Sabrina slides into a seat near the floor-to-ceiling window, her “travel guide” in hand. The dust jacket is a perfect disguise for the real book hidden beneath.

I settle across from her, scanning the lobby. There are no obvious threats except for the usual security camera’s that we skillfully avoided. As far as I can tell we weren’t followed and I’m hoping Dmitri and Carlos haven’t somehow been alerted to our arrival in England yet. I know if I’d stolen from him I’d have clocked him the moment he boarded the plane to go to America. So I’m pretty sure he’s on the lookout for me.

Sabrina flips to a marked page in the journals and taps the paper. She keeps her voice low as she runs her finger over a list of symbols and abbreviations. “Vivienne abbreviated all her victims first and last names.” She points to one of them. “Usually when we abbreviate a name we used SC for Sabrina Craft for instance.”

“Yeah.” I nod and sit straight when a server approaches.

Sabrina closes the book and gives the young woman a big smile. “Can I have an almond mile caramel latte please?”

“Sure,” the young woman smiles and turns to me. “And for you, sir?”

“Just a black coffee,” I reply.

“I’ll be right back with your order.” She leaves. Sabrina opens the book once again.

“Vivienne abbreviated her victims using the last letter of each name. So my name would be AT.” She turns the book to show me.

“Victims?”

“Her words not mine.” Sabrina shrugs. “Blackmail Victims is what she’s labeled the page as, so she wasn’t very subtle.”

“No wonder you didn’t like the bitch.”

“No one did,” Sabrina assures me before continuing on about the journal. “Look here, beside each name, there’s a symbol—it’s a reversed Greek alphabet letter, followed by a Greek numeral, an English number, and then an EM dash to either GM101, GM307, or GM409.”

I frown. “And that means?”

Sabrina exhales and shakes her head. “I don’t know. But maybe we could call one of her blackmail victims as she’s listed the phone number using Greek numerals as country codes, Roman numerals as area codes, and Russian numerals as phone numbers.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “She really was a complicated bitch.”

Sabrina leans closer. “But this?” She taps another section. “This might be a clue to the mysterious gold key.”

I follow her gaze to a tiny symbol—a key, stamped in the margin.

“Is that a stamp?”

Sabrina nods. “Yeah, she had a whole lot of stamps. I guess it made her feel important. She’d stamp our naughty and nice cards she had for Leigh, my older sister, and me.”

“Nice mother,” I comment.

“You have no idea.” Sabrina blows out a breath.

My eyes scan the page, and I notice the initials beneath each one of the entries and beside the little key stamp: “What’s this D&Y—LP.” I point to it. “It’s under each name.”

Sabrina frowns thoughtfully before her brows shoot up. “Gold and Key Legal Group.”

My pulse kicks up. “You think this is tied to Gold Key Legal Group?”

She nods. "If anyone knows what GM101, GM307, and GM409 mean, it might be them."

It’s our first real lead on the golden key.

Now, we just have to wait for my mother to set up that meeting with the Gold Key Legal Group.

Sabrina snaps the book shut and shoves it back into her bag. "We should go."

“We haven’t had out coffee yet,” I point out.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to leave it.” Her eyes move to behind my head, and I turn.

Two massive men in black suits are heading out way and I don’t think they’re your average businessmen.

“Fuck!” I scan the room. “That way!” I nod to the door on the other side of the coffee shop.

But before we can move, a big brute steps up behind Sabrina.

“You’re coming with us,” he growls.

I immediately see the tattoo on his neck—a Golden Hydra insignia peeking out from his collar.

Dmitri’s men .

“We’re in a busy coffee shop,” Sabrina points out.

“And we’re security,” the goon in front of her informs us. “Right now, everyone thinks you’ve either done something wrong or are being escorted to into the building as no one gets in there without a security escort if you don’t work there.”

“So don’t make a scene,” the goon warns.

Sabrina and I go along with them. As we near the front door of the building the third goon breaks off and walks back into the building. The other two walk us out the doors and SUV with blacked out windows waiting on the curb.

I glance at Sabrina who raises an eyebrow before starting to sneeze. She’s about to open her bag when one of the goons grabs her arm. I instantly react to her being manhandled but I’m grabbed by one of the other goons.

“I need a… a…” Whaaaa chooo! She spits all over the man’s suit. “Tissue. I’m getting a tissue.”

He nods and releases her arm. Sabrina’s hand disappears into her purse, and in a flash, she whips out a canister of pepper spray. The goon barely has time to register before she sprays him full in the face.

Chaos erupts. I turn and land a hard punch to the second goons ribs.

He staggers but doesn’t go down.

The first guy, still blind, roars in fury, reaching for his gun.

Sabrina doesn’t hesitate. She hurls something at me—a second canister.

“Don’t spray it the wrong way!” she warns. “It really does melt skin.”

I snatch it out of the air and blast the second bastard in the eyes.

He howls, dropping to his knees and I know him out. Before I can get to help Sabrina she delivers a brutal kick to the first man’s balls. He crumples. As he goes down she swings her purse—whack—straight into the first guy’s skull.

He goes down.

I grab her hand. “Move.”

We bolt in the opposite direction to the waiting SUV, slipping into the London crowd, ducking into alleyways, weaving through side streets.

We need to disappear. Now.

We catch a cab, keeping our heads low. When we finally get close to the townhouse, we slip into a shopping mall, taking a long, winding path back to the safe house.

Once inside, Sabrina collapses onto the couch. “That was fucking insane.”

I rub my jaw. “They know we’re there.”

“Do you think someone tipped them off?” Sabrina looks at me in disbelief. “Other than the five… six of us from back home, no one besides Syd and Clyde know we’re here.”

“Fuck.” I spit. “Dmitri must have someone in immigration or aviation that flagged the jet.”

“Yes, but you didn’t use your jet,” Sabrina reminds me. “We used the Archontis jet just to be careful.”

“It seems our little switcheroo—sending my jet to Russia as a diversion—didn’t work.”

“Or..” Sabrina holds up her index finger. “We’ve been compromised by someone in our circle.”

Fuck! I shove my hands through my hair. She’s right, we’ve probably been compromised from within. It’s probably the same bastard that helped Carlos take Leigh.