Twisted in Chaos (Destructive Devastation #2)

Chapter 19

"And then, the little shit thought he could sneak into my room and stab me through the heart. Joke’s on the little bastard." Naum practically falls out of his seat with laughter, sloshing the whiskey mix in his glass.

Five men surround him. Four grown adults, chuckling at his words with broad smiles and sipping their drinks—his most loyal men within the Bratva. Tall. Foreboding. With a cold detachment in their eyes. They’re the ones in charge of everything else. Finances. Takeovers. They’re like a modern-day business with Naum at the head of it all. The CEO. The Mafia King. With every decision they make and every vote they take, it’s all up to Naum to have the final say. He’s the leader by default, like his father before him and so on. The position fell into his lap.

He was born to rule the Bratva. Jericho was born to rule the Viotto Crime Family of Briar Cove like Naum’s teenage son—Mikhail—will do after he's gone.

Same hierarchy—different rules.

Mikhail sits rigidly beside the leader with a blank expression. Much like his father, Naum's, an amber drink rests tightly in his grip. Untouched. Not a sip taken. He seems to soak in every word spoken between the two parties. Nodding when necessary and laughing when needed. Uninterested when not engaged, possibly lost in thought.

I’ve heard rumors about him in passing. Vicious. Ruthless. Fitting in with the men of the Bratva. Born and bred for the lifestyle.

Like me. Jericho. Arrow.

In a way, he reminds me of Jericho with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Ruled by a crazed father obsessed with power and money. It’s all there, right in front of me. A picture from the past where I witnessed my best friend sink further into the abyss of his father’s rule, wishing he could escape him. Or overthrow him.

Is this the reason Naum won’t exist tomorrow? Will Mikhail take him out?

For over an hour, we hang out in the Presidential Suite, shooting the shit while the guests drink excessive amounts of liquor, getting drunker by the minute. I eye my father, knocking back drinks with them but never losing himself to the effects of the alcohol.

"And your guards? Where were they when the enemy breached your room?" my sperm donor asks with a raised brow, smirking at Naum’s antics.

"Guards? Pfft.” He scans his men, giving them a ‘Would you look at this guy’ kind of look. “You think I need fucking guards standing over me while I sleep? Pussy shit! I take care of what enters my domain with swift justice," he snarks with a huff, forming guns with his fingers while pointing at my father. “With a gun beneath my pillows and my finger on the trigger.”

There’s a weird tension in the room. Something is brewing behind my father’s smile and Naum’s raucous laughter. Unsaid words. Untold actions.

Naum is here for a reason. A reason I don’t think he understands. Me, either. Shadow is up to some shit, and I need to find out what before it all goes down. An alliance? Doubtful. Shadow wouldn’t have dragged me here if it was just that.

He wants me to witness his genius work.

"You're a better man than me," Shadow says, raising a glass. "But of course, I don't have to worry about anything while protected on this." He holds out his hands, slightly laughing as he gestures to the hotel and island. “My land. My men. Impenetrable.”

"Explain to me how you procured such a piece of property for your operations," Naum asks, finishing his drink and setting the glass on an end table. A server quickly walks by and picks it up, but before she can move on, she's halted by Naum grabbing her wrist. "Another. Just the same," he says with a flirty wink, sending her on her way into the closed-off kitchen. "Is she available?" he asks, leaning his elbows on his knees, listening intently.

"They all are for a price,” Shadow says coldly, shrugging.

Disgust has my stomach in knots at his words. For a price. Would he do the same to me? Journey? Sunny? Probably. He wouldn't hesitate to give us to the most willing person who wants to use us for nefarious things. If Naum asked, I bet my father would serve me on a silver platter with a smile and no shame in his actions.

Naum gives a lop-sided grin, humming a tune under his breath. "Well, then.” He quickly takes out his wallet and slams a wad of bills onto the table, looking to total at least four grand. “Have someone for everyone. Except him, of course." He waves a hand at his son, who sets his drink on the table with a tight- lipped expression. He narrows his similar-looking eyes on Naum but doesn't say a word. "Too young to be corrupted, eh, boy? Eh, Mikhail?" he chants, reaching over to shake him by the shoulders with a grin.

Mikhail grunts, gently shoving his father’s hands off him. "Of course," he says with a nod.

Naum smirks. "Well, why don't we get down to business, then? The boy has a meeting with his intended and would like to get the ball rolling, as the kids say." He rolls a wrist.

"Down to business already?" Shadow chuckles. "You must be eager to sign your name on the dotted line."

The boy’s deep blue eyes shift to Shadow, eating him alive without saying a word. Or he would. His face doesn't change, remaining neutral in all the right areas. But his eyes. I've seen it a million times before in Jericho. The subtle shift of his mood shining bright. And this man? Well, he's transparent to me.

"No need for all the pleasantries. We concocted a deal for an alliance through marriage, and I am here to fulfill that. For my father." For himself, more than likely.

But wait. Marriage? I stiffen.

"Sunshine is yours." Shadow shrugs, setting his drink down. I stiffen at his words, attempting to relax my posture. Weakness is not an option in front of Naum’s men. Or my sperm donor’s. I swallow a mouthful of whiskey, relishing it as it burns down my throat and fills my stomach with warmth. "We've hammered out the details verbally over the phone, but how about in writing?” He takes out a simple stack of papers, no more than five, and sets it down in front of Naum. Before he can snatch it up and look over it, Mikhail takes it, looking it over meticulously.

Holy fuck. He's handing Sunshine off to the highest bidder like a piece of meat. Figures. Why else would he collect his long-lost daughter after so many years? He's not a father. He's a user.

"Such a little businessman," Naum quips, grabbing the fresh drink from the server as she sets it down. "You and me later, sweetheart." He winks, and she shrinks in on herself, swallowing hard.

"You can't hurt my property, Naum," Shadow says with a light chuckle that sounds anything but light. He's plotting a fucking murder. I can confirm that from his words earlier, but it's all in how he holds himself against Naum. His shoulders tense. No matter how hard he tries to smile in Naum's direction. All I can see is the ire he holds for him—the distaste when he smacks his lips after a drink. "Fuck her. I don't care. Use her up. But if you harm her, she can't do her job or return to her family..." his words trail off sternly, letting the threat hang in the air.

Naum is going down. My father is going to do it. But what about the boy sitting there? Is he next? Or an alliance opportunity?

"You speak like my dick will make her explode. Good explode, not bad explode," Naum laughs loudly. "I will not harm your server. Simply show her a good time and what a real man is like. One for each of my men, yes?" He raises a dark brow, waiting for my father's answer.

"The boundary remains the same. No injuries. They must work off their debts." Their debts. I look at the woman cowering in the corner, looking Naum over with genuine fear hanging in her gaze.

She has no choice in this—no words she can say to deter the man from putting his hands on her. I should stand up. Take her away from here and to safety. But I’m stuck, too.

"It's a deal, my friend," Naum proclaims, clapping his hands.

Shadow salutes them all with an enormous smile. "Darrell, radio down and have all the available women line up for viewing. They have guests to entertain for the evening before we kick off the festivities."

Darrell nods and steps out of the room, presumably to make the call.

"Everything seems in order," Mikhail says in a low voice, putting the pages back together into a neat stack. “Everything we discussed.” He raises a brow.

"Of course. Everything, Mikhail," my father says, saluting him with his glass again. "You get to leave the island with my precious daughter, marry her, and then..."

"Our allegiance is yours. We will help you continue your decimation of the Viotto family."

Shadow grins. "Parts of our plans are already in place."

Grace. He means her. She's already knee-deep in whatever they've concocted, which is something I need to get to the bottom of. Maybe there’s something in his secret office. Darrell showed it to me for a reason. Perhaps he thinks I wouldn’t dare to sneak in there and find whatever he’s hiding. Well, he’s wrong. The perfect opportunity will come. And when it does? I’m grabbing fate by the balls and squeezing them until I get answers.

"Then, let's celebrate," Naum says with a clap. "To the fall of the great Viotto Family of California. Each of their parcels will become ours." Shadow grunts under his breath, sending him a glare and earning a smile in return. "Ours." He gestures with his glass between Shadow and him. "All the resources. All the businesses. Everything we could have imagined. The seaports."

The seaports. Of course. The Viotto brothers run most parts of California, including guns, drugs, and whatever gets distributed among the gangs and family. That's what they want. They don't just want the successful side of everything. They want it all.

I keep my rampant thoughts at bay, refusing to let them show in my expression. Or, I'd hoped. Mikhail eyes me critically, examining my face. His head tilts, and he smirks knowingly. Quickly, Mikhail signs the contract without a second thought.

"Then, it's settled. Why don't we celebrate?" Shadow says, standing tall, and I follow suit. "Let's say, tomorrow night, all of us have a lovely dinner and then view the fights we have slotted for the evening."

"To the death?" Naum asks, leaning in with a grin. "I do love a good bloody battle."

"To the death," Shadow says with a smirk. “It’s the way of The Pits.”

"Fucking good," Naum says, rubbing his hands together. "My boys and I will be there to watch the bloodshed.”

Shadow holds up a hand. "Why don't we make dinner just a family event, yeah? Your son. My children. A nice dinner and drinking." That’s not fucking suspicious at all.

"I like the way you think," Naum agrees, clapping his hands together. “Family is, of course, the utmost importance to us.”

"Now, enjoy the suite; it is all yours. Darrell will escort the women to your room for viewing and picking."

"Why not leave them all here?" Naum chuckles darkly. "I've got quite an appetite." He turns quickly, gesturing for the server to come closer to him before taking hold of her neck and forcing her against the wall. "Dark, dark needs."

"I've got a date," Mikhail says with a sigh, shaking his head at his father with disgust. "As much as I'd love to see you dishonor my mother..." he trails off with disgust.

"That old hag?" Naum growls. "She's off in the city apartment, living her best life with the pool boy. Fuck off, son," he grunts, forcing the server into a large bedroom and shutting the door with a slam.

Mikhail schools his features, placing his hands in his pockets. "Since my Sunshine will be present, I assume your woman will also be. Care to accompany me?" He gestures to me, tilting his head toward the door.

"Go on, son. I've got plenty to keep me occupied," Shadow grumbles, staring at the door Naum disappeared behind. “But remember what we discussed?” How the hell could I forget? Don’t fuck this up. Keep your mouth shut and pen down.

I nod. Not daring to argue when I'm weaponless and defenseless.

I follow Mikhail out the suite's door, slowly traipsing toward the elevators. Everything around me screams rich and over the top, with expensive paintings adorning the walls and soft lighting. Down to the small marble-topped table with a vase of fresh flowers right outside the elevator doors. Two small chairs rest on either side of it for decoration. It’s so inviting. Soothing, even. The complete opposite of the dingy hallway in the basement that I can’t take my mind off of.

How does a dead man with nothing to his old name create such an empire on nothing in only three years? Did Grace help him establish this? She'd been gone for such a long time. I don't know how she'd have the resources, either. Considering she wouldn’t have access to Gabriel’s funds. Maybe her family provided her with something. She is a mafia princess, after all.

It’s something else I need to investigate while I’m on this island.

Without a word between us, I follow Mikhail onto the empty elevator, slinking to the back wall and leaning against it with so much on my damn mind. I sigh, rubbing my temples as my mind digests every damn word that was said in the meeting.

"Were you shocked to see your father again after so many years of being deceased?" Mikhail asks when the elevator doors shut.

My gaze whips to him, and he only looks me over with a straight face, awaiting my answer.

I frown . 'Of course, I was shocked, you fucking prick,' I sign quickly with a huff and then dig out my notebook, knowing he wouldn’t have understood a word I said. Just as I’m about to write out a more appropriate response, I stop dead.

'Interesting,' he signs back with a satisfied smirk. 'And when he died, did you feel...' his fingers hang in the air as he trails off with a slightly changed expression, showing the vulnerability sparkling in his eyes.

I swallow hard in disbelief, but quickly shake it off. 'With a father like mine and what he did, I danced on his grave. Well... Until a few days ago.'

"How interesting," Mikhail mutters, rubbing at his chin until the elevator door opens, revealing the hotel's fifth floor. "This way. Sunshine is waiting for me to assist her in making brunch. And from what I've heard, she's invited Journey along. Or..." He stops, turning to look at me as I reluctantly follow. "It's an odd arrangement you have, isn't it? The three of you and her? How does that work?”

My face heats at the judgment in his tone. A subject that is none of his business, especially with how young he seems.

'How old are you?' I sign, sizing him up. He speaks like he's a goddamn adult, but in the body of a middle schooler.

"Fourteen," he says, folding his hands together. "Why? Want to punch me? I wouldn't suggest it. Spies everywhere and all that. Besides, I'm sure you could pack a punch, eh?"

Infuriating little bastard. He's so smug. I want to punch him. But I have to remain on my best behavior—words courtesy of my father. The one thing I’d never want to do while trapped in this hellhole is piss off the person who granted us freedom after locking us up.

'Fourteen? And you're in a marriage contract already?' In our society, it doesn't happen until we're at our initiation ball. Sure, alliances are made, but they wait until we're men able to handle the life and a wife simultaneously.

Apparently not in the Bratva.

"Why wait?" he asks, scrunching his brows. "That's contrary to the Viotto's, correct? You're to wait until you're adults. Going through bootcamps and such. I've studied your ways of life for years now." God, years now? He's fourteen going on forty. “It’s quite interesting what the head of your organization did to make you all into powerful men fit for his approval.”

'Journey will not appreciate this arrangement. In fact, I'd guard yourself well tonight.' I offer him my best sadistic grin.

It's not me he needs to be afraid of. Sure, I could punch his face in until he’s unrecognizable. Give him to Arrow for a little torture session. But Journey? Yeah, she’s the one he needs to be fearful of. She'll have this boy by the damn balls and string him up like a pinata. Ah, what a sight to see.

Mikhail only grins, knocking lightly at the door. "Bring it on. I enjoy fighting. But don't worry. My Sunshine does not appreciate a fight between me and her sister, whom I've heard much about. In fact, If I could, I'd pledge my loyalty to someone like her. Someone who cares for the ones she loves so dearly that she risks her life daily." He raises a brow, smirking at me.

The door swings open before I can respond, revealing a smiling Sunshine. Her cheeks pinken. "Hi," she offers shyly.

Huh. I guess all she needed was a love interest to make her not so perky.

"Hello, my Sunshine," he offers, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

She fucking giggles, staring at him with stars in her eyes. Then, there's Journey frowning right behind her, watching the entire interaction like a hawk zoning in on her prey. That’s right, my Little Tempest.

"What is this?" she asks, gesturing between them with her finger.

"Ah, hello. You must be Journey," Mikhail says, grasping Sunshine's hand and pulling her into his side possessively. Although he seems to respect Journey and her relationship with her sister, he has no qualms about staking his claim.

Wrong move, Prick.

Journey frowns more. "Sunshine..." she trails off with a warning in her voice.

"This is Mikhail, he's my..."

"Fiancé," Mikhail supplies with pride. "I am Sunshine's intended."

Great. Another bomb to defuse.