Chapter 39
Luka
Leon’s giving me the silent treatment as we drive to the mystery location our uncle texted him. My body buzzes with anxious energy and so much fucking rage.
The Russians need to be dealt with if I want any chance of letting Sophie go. Leon will throw a hissy fit, that’s for sure, but I’m out of fucks to give.
His grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles white. The stress of the last few months gave him a few new grays and deepened the frown lines on his face. He’s my brother and I worry about him, but I’m sick and tired of playing the role of the irresponsible little brother.
His teeth barely unclench long enough for him to say, “Andre and Ivan are waiting for us on the way, as well as a couple of my guys.”
“Hmph,” I grunt in response.
The glove box clicks as I open it, finding a Glock inside. Since I was kidnapped from my home, I’m not as prepared as I’d like to be. This will have to do. I check the chamber and load it, smooth steel familiar in my hands.
“What are we expecting?” I ask.
“They should be having a family meeting.”
My eyes widen. This will be a gold mine.
The Russian mafia is led by three brothers.
They never really get together, not in person, to ensure their survival.
Even if you were to kill one of them, the other two would get you faster than you could catch them, and the family would still stay strong.
For the three of them to meet, it’s basically unheard of. “Why the hell would they do that?”
“Maybe they need to discuss how to deal with shit we’ve been throwing at them.” Leon shoots me a smirk.
Even with all the hits we’ve taken, we threw a few punches of our own. Their most prominent vodka distillery was up for inspection and, whoops, the last batch of vodka they produced didn’t pass and had to be destroyed.
Unlike the usual meeting spots—abandoned buildings and warehouses—Leon parks in front of a brand-new office building.
Its lot is still unfinished, and my guess would be no one has used it yet.
Pretty smart for a meetup spot, I have to give them that.
There are no cars parked in front, but it has an underground garage where they could be.
Another point for them. Two more cars pull up behind us and we get out without a word.
Leon gestures for Ivan and two of his guys to go through the back while Andre, Leon, and I will enter here.
I would bet my club there’s not a lot of security here tonight.
They’d want to keep this family meeting under wraps.
I don’t have to be in Leon’s head to know that’s why there’s only six of us here. We also have the element of surprise.
My boots crunch on the loose gravel. None of us say a word, but the anticipation is palpable.
A chance to kill the men who murdered Father.
A chance to get our business back on track and our family in order.
I can almost smell the victory from here.
We reach the glass front door and Andre opens them without a hitch.
Weird.
Still, we continue inside, navigating the dark hallway through a maze of office spaces and conference rooms, and take the stairs to the top floor. The place is fully dark, except for the one conference room with the lights on. My heart pumps faster as my fingers wrap around the gun, ready to shoot.
Three dark figures approach from the other side and I point the barrel at them before noticing it’s Ivan and Leon’s guys.
Ivan gestures his head to the lighted conference room.
As we get closer, three black blobs appear in the frosted glass wall of the room.
Hushed voices whisper in Russian, barely discerning.
Excitement grows within me, though I can’t escape the knot in my gut. This was too easy. How did our buffoon of an uncle get hold of secret intel about a meeting that literally never happens? The hair on my neck stands up straight as we reach the door. It’s too late to back out now.
Leon gives him a nod, and Ivan opens the door and the six of us barrel inside, one by one, with our weapons cocked.
“Fuck,” Leon growls, kicking a chair with his leg hard enough to turn it over. He continues cursing in Croatian while I take in the surrounding scene.
The room is empty. The black blobs we saw from outside are just piles of old, musty clothes, stacked on top of the chairs. The voices are a recording playing on a radio perched on the lightwood oval desk. Next to the radio, a digital alarm clock sits. One that’s counting down the time to something.
Thirty-two
Thirty-one.
Thirty.
Finally, the thought registers in my brain.
“Everybody out!” I roar, grab the collar of Leon’s shirt, and drag him out of the room.
I reach for the door handle of the front entrance just when the bomb goes off.
My hands wrap around my head in a reflexive attempt to protect it, but my ears ring with the explosion.
The blast was obviously on the top floor, otherwise we wouldn’t be standing, but the ceiling will collapse any second now.
I grab the door handle hard enough to break the glass, barely feeling the scrapes of glass shards as we leave the place.
We get to our cars, far enough to be at a safe distance, and watch the fire swallow the place, its roof collapsing on itself.
We walked into a fucking trap.
Leon still rages, kicking the rim of his wheel hard enough to break his foot.
“Calm the fuck down,” I grit out, popping a cigarette out of my pocket and lighting it.
He turns around, glaring at me with disdain.
“You know who I’m really mad at?” The question is hypothetical, so I don’t answer.
“Not the Russians, whose literal job is to make our lives hell.” I don’t think I ever saw my perfect brother as disheveled as this.
His hair is a mess, and if there is such a thing as crazy eyes, he’s got them right now.
“No, I’m mad at my fucking brother for putting a piece of pussy before us, his family. ”
I stop the cigarette mid-air. The burning tip of it is nothing compared to the fire raging in my stomach.
Oblivious to it, Leon continues his tirade. “For once, I thought you could be responsible. For once, I thought I could count on you, as much as we both leaned on Father.”
My voice is unrecognizably cold as I say, “And you think you can’t?”
“Pftt,” he scoffs. “It’s pretty damn obvious I can’t. I’ve been drowning, trying to keep the business afloat, and all the while, you’ve fucking around. With a bitch we should have killed.”
He can say whatever he wants about me. He can call me irresponsible, an idiot, a traitor.
I don’t fucking care. But calling Sophie a bitch?
My forearm lifts to his neck out of its own accord, the force of my anger slamming him into the car.
I lean into his neck, enough to make his breath short.
“I suggest you stop right the fuck now. You have no idea what you’re talking about. ”
There’s no fear in his eyes. Only hate. “Enlighten me, then. Tell me, is she more important than your family?” His voice is hoarse but unrelenting.
The other guys have built a close circle around us. Thankfully, they’re smart enough to stay out of it.
“Is the pussy good enough to betray us?” he taunts, pushing just the right button to make me break.
His mouth parts as my forearm presses into his throat hard enough to cut off any oxygen supply. “Don’t. Fucking. Talk. About. Her. That. Way.”
His eyes turn red, so I retreat. He’s angry, I know. But if I can stop myself from killing him on the spot, he can damn well stop himself from insulting or degrading her. He gasps, catching a breath, but his eyes are still stuck to me.
“This isn’t just sex, isn’t it?” He sounds on the verge of laughing. “You feel something for her.” I sneak a glance at Ivan, and Leon lets out a dark chuckle. “You went ahead and fell in love with the girl whose father killed ours.”
“He’s not the one who pulled the trigger.”
Leon claps his hands theatrically. “Oh, you’re defending him now. How nice.”
I shake my head, tired of this conversation. “I’m simply stating the facts.”
“And is one of those facts that you’re in love with her?”
Yes. But I’ll be damned if I tell my brother and colleagues before I tell her.
“I’m sorry you feel like I haven’t contributed much, but I’ve been busting my ass day in-day out trying to keep our business afloat.
I know that you don’t fully understand what happened, but I need you to get with the program.
I need you to drink a bottle of rakia, smash some things, and come out of it smarter.
Because right now, you’re acting like the irresponsible one.
” His mouth parts to say something but I add, “What happened here, tonight, had nothing to do with me.” I turn to Ivan. “Can I have your keys?”
He throws me his car keys, no questions asked. I catch them and enter the car, peeling off without a second thought. I don’t bother checking if they’re following me.
It’s late. And I’m tired. Pissed off by Leon and the fucking Russians. And I need to see her. I need to see that she’s still okay. That she’s still mine. Then I need to get her out of there, family business be damned.