Chapter 10
SILAS
Mikhail Sokolov stares at me blankly with his dark eyes. He throws his headful of shiny black hair back and fucking laughs. Laughs.
“When I heard you’d recently employed the Grim, I thought I was mistaken, but I didn’t think she’d give you this much grief. Maybe I should start making personal visits to assess this mortician.”
“Her time is preoccupied with me,” I growl as I bring the whiskey to my lips.
We’re at one of the strip clubs in town with a private room, though we can look out over the club floor.
Clubs like these are good breeding grounds for leads and gossip.
It’s also a good way to check on the other crews since they frequent them.
Especially the Hayes crew, who love nothing short of a good time, and the Neros, who run it.
All four crews excel in a particular specialty. I take pride in being the biggest weapon dealer on the East Coast. It keeps my empire financially stable, the police too fearful to question—with a good payout, of course—and my men able to defend themselves.
The Hayes crew, run by Cian, excels in drugs. Anything involved in a good time, they’re involved.
The Neros, however, run the sex industry through strip clubs, prostitution, and off-market auctions.
Out of all the crews, they’re the ones I’ve disliked the most, more so because of their leader, Apollo, who although my uncle used to loosely be friends with, I’ve always had a bad feeling about.
And I trust my instinct. Of his three sons, I only like the middle one, Elias.
Mikhail Sokolov is the only one I actually respect, and might be the closest to a friend I would consider outside my crew, though I still don’t entirely trust him.
And he shares the same sentiment. It’s what keeps us alive.
The police give us space because of our strength in weapons and the pretty penny to look the other way.
Whereas, for the Sokolov crew, they practically own them through extortion and the ability to put all their higher-ups behind bars for life.
I respect Mikhail because, although he can rely on brute force—much like his father, who’s still alive and active in their group—he uses his sharp intellect and ability to ruin anyone within the matter of twenty-four hours; extortion and money laundering at its finest. I’m certain they run other projects, but none that I’ve been able to uncover myself, which is why I appreciate Mikhail.
He’s one of the few who could rival even my crew, so when possible, I prefer to sit with him with a glass of whiskey, feigning friendship.
Mikhail grabs his whiskey as we sit in our steel-colored leather couches, looking outward through the glass and at the performers.
Valen and Mikhail’s second stand outside the room.
We prefer speaking in private. His dark eyes flash with intrigue, and I don’t like it when Mikhail is interested in something. Especially my little raven.
“So have you tracked back to who it is?” Mikhail asks. “Word on the street is you’ve been plucking off Nero’s crew with a ruthless vengeance.”
My jaw tics. He’s one of the few I’d actually divulge the information about my uncle to. By now, it’s being spoken about among the crews because no one’s seen him for weeks. My hand tightens on the glass.
“The only lead I have is that my uncle was last seen at his favorite bar. When I went there, they advised he was visiting Apollo Nero beforehand. Hours later, he was dead, and his phone had disappeared.”
“Ah.” Mikhail clicks his tongue. If it’s the only lead I can go off, then of course I’m going to continue tracking it relentlessly.
But it’s the fact that Apollo hasn’t yet confronted me that agitates me most. In fact, I can’t get a hold of his whereabouts, which is problematic.
His sons are busier than usual as well and never in one spot for long.
Mikhail runs a hand through his short black hair before pulling out a piece of paper from his suit pocket and sliding it across the desk.
I hate to admit it, but Mikhail has the best trackers and resources for intel.
Although I have good people working for me, it’s as if Mikhail sees everything that’s happening all at once.
In contrast, I work to knock down every competitor one by one. Calculated but not as conservative.
I flip it open, and my eyebrows dip slightly. “I’ve never heard of this town.”
“It’s small and about a four-hour drive from here. The Nero crew has been going there once a month for the past three months.” My jaw tightens.
“When was the last meeting?” I grit through my teeth.
“A week ago.”
Fuck. If they’re meeting monthly, that means the next meetup is still three weeks away. But it’s a lead.
I grab the suitcase positioned beside me and slide it across the table. Mikhail opens it expectantly, and his eyes admire the weapons inside. “You do know how to spoil me for my birthday,” he says admirably, showing his fangs now.
“You think every day is your birthday.”
He casually shrugs as he clips the suitcase closed and puts it beside him. “Well, considering what we do, tomorrow is never guaranteed. For me, perhaps, but not so much you, with how recklessly you’re sticking out your neck openly opposing the Nero crew.”
“It’s my uncle,” I grit, not giving a fuck about whose toes I step on. The other crews have been quiet in the meantime, most likely curious about how it will fall and whether I open an opportunity befitting enough for them to cover more land or profit.
“Couldn’t intimidate the Grim into giving you more information as to who dropped off the body?”
My hand tightens once again around the glass. I throw back a harsher amount, irritated simply by someone having her name on their lips and how her smart mouth has haunted me ever since she kicked me out of her office again.
“She’s difficult to … motivate.”
He barks out a laugh, way too entertained by this.
“Wow, I never thought I’d see Silas Vescari struggling to deal with one single woman.
Though she is bound to discretion.” Which is precisely why I didn’t tell him about her saying a man wearing a mask dropped off the body.
Because even if slight, I can’t even have Mikhail know that she’s provided me with information she wouldn’t offer others.
Then again, nobody else knows the body has gone missing, and I especially left that part out to Mikhail.
At this point, my faith is wavering in finding the body. However, I will seek my revenge, no matter what. We’ll mourn him appropriately, but the fuckers who did this won’t survive.
I look back at the note and location he’s given me. I can start looking into such matters myself, but while I’m out of town, I’ll have one of my men watching my little raven closely, ensuring she’s not up to anything she shouldn’t be—like betraying me.