Chapter 20
20
Kirill
Fourteen Hours Later
A rina appears by my seat and whispers, "Landing is in twenty minutes."
"Thank you," I reply in a hushed tone.
She nods, gives Fiona a starstruck glance, and disappears.
My wife remains peacefully sleeping against my shoulder, her hand resting on the inside of my thigh.
An unfamiliar warm joy surfaces, mixing with sharp agitation. I assumed my own blood would come after my bride, but they shouldn't have found out about our nuptials this quickly. There's only one way the word got out in under twenty-four hours—there are more traitors in The Underworld.
But who?
The claw in my gut re-emerges, scraping as it rises into my chest. I squeeze my fist until my knuckles turn white, making a new vow. When I discover who betrayed their oath, the consequences will be unlike anything The Underworld has ever seen.
My cell vibrates several times in my cup holder .
I grab it, swipe the screen, and swallow down bile.
Brax: There are two more.
Sean: Security is too tight. We have eyes on them and are ready to take them out or bring them in once it's clear. I say bring them in, but it's your call.
Brax: Agreed. Make them pay.
Rage explodes within me.
Me: Make it clear that no one is to take them out. They will pay for their sins before I grant death upon them.
Brax: Lev and Igor need a break. I don't think I can get anything else from them if I don't back off. They're not far from the corpse stage.
Me: Then back off. I need them alive when I arrive.
Brax: Understood.
I stare out the window, taking in the city lights, and my phone vibrates in my hand.
Ivan: We have a problem.
Sharp points dig deeper in my gut.
Me: What?
Ivan: Dante Marino's SUV hasn't moved from the runway since he and Fiona's mother landed and got off the plane .
My chest tightens. I glance at my wife and take a few deep breaths.
I don't need this right now.
They're her family. Of course they're going to be worried about her.
Me: Why am I just being informed about this?
Ivan: I was just granted access to the runway and wasn't told they were here until now.
I grind my molars in frustration and irritation. Something is off with security. I've felt it since they took away my privacy. Things should have returned to normal now that Fiona and I are married.
Does the Omni still have surveillance on me?
If so, who at the table is making these calls?
I return to my phone.
Me: Find out why you weren't told they were there.
Ivan: Already on it.
The wheels squeak, lowering for landing. I stroke Fiona's cheek, murmuring, "Wake up, my little bird."
Her eyelids flutter a few times and then she lifts her head. "Are we in Chicago?"
"Almost. Put your seat belt back on," I instruct.
She obeys, then asks, "What time is it?"
I glance at my watch. "It's a bit past two in the morning."
She yawns and stretches her arms as the wheels touch the ground.
I scan the runway, and my chest tightens. A black SUV is speeding toward mine .
"Fuck," I grumble.
"What's wrong?" Fiona asks.
I turn toward her. "Your mom and Dante are here."
Her eyes widen. "As in, at the airport?"
I point out the window at the SUV parking next to mine. "Yes. Right there."
"Oh shit," she frets.
I grab her hand, assuring her, "It'll be okay."
She furrows her forehead, giving me a helpless look.
"I'll handle it," I insist, but I can only imagine how this will play out.
The plane comes to a stop.
We take off our seat belts, and Arina appears. "Can I get you anything before you leave?"
"I think we're good, Arina," I reply.
"Yes, thank you," Fiona offers.
Arina pins another starstruck gaze on Fiona, then smiles. "It was an honor flying with you, Your Majesty."
Fiona shifts in her seat. "Um, thank you."
Arina curtsies and goes to the front of the plane. She opens the door, and cold air rushes inside.
Fiona peeks past me out the window. She groans and then declares, "This is going to be so bad."
I rise and put my Glock in the back of my pants, noting, "No time like the present." I grab her jacket and hold it toward her.
She stands and slides into it. Then she buttons it up .
I secure the top button and offer, "Might be better for your mom not to see the plastic wrap right now."
She blows out an anxious breath of air. "Good call."
I motion for her to go first. She hesitates, then lifts her chin and exits the plane.
I follow her down the staircase, quickly stepping beside her and sliding my arm around her waist.
Dante and Bridget fly across the small runway.
"Hey," Fiona greets.
"You're coming with us," Bridget asserts, glancing at me with the color draining from her face.
I push the familiar, uncomfortable feeling down and state, "I know this isn't what you wanted for your daughter?—"
"Isn't what she wanted? You're a Petrov," Dante snarls, and reaches for Fiona, commanding, "Let's go."
I scowl and step between them, pushing Fiona back.
"Don't touch her," Dante threatens.
"She's my wife. You're going to need to accept it," I warn.
Bridget's voice shakes. "Fiona, please. Come with us. You can't be with him."
"Stop! Everyone, stop!" Fiona shouts, moving next to me.
I grind my molars and tighten my grip on her waist.
Bridget closes the gap between them. She reaches for her cheeks. A tear slips down her face, and she cries, "I don't know how this happened, but I need you to come with us. Please. You don't know who he is or what he's done. "
My stomach flips. I stand taller, declaring, "I've done nothing worse than anything either of your husbands have done."
She snaps her head toward me, seething, "Don't you dare stand here and accuse my husbands of vile things! Or insinuate that you knew Fiona's father!"
"Mom! He knew Dad!" Fiona interjects.
Bridget narrows her eyes. She warns, "I don't know what this monster has told you, but I can assure you he can't be trusted. Now, please. Get in the car."
Fiona insists, "He did know Dad. And Kirill's not a monster!"
I squeeze her waist and suggest, "Why don't we all take a breather? It's late, and I'm sure everyone is exhausted. Let's get some sleep and meet up tomorrow. Then we can have a civil conversation."
Dante pulls his gun out, snarling, "Our civil conversation doesn't involve you. Now, get your hands off Fiona."
Ivan moves toward us and calls out, "You might want to think twice about threatening your daughter's husband." He points his gun at Dante.
"Dante! Put the gun down!" Fiona shrieks.
"Fiona, come with us," Bridget pleads.
A loud horn blares through the air, and lights from an approaching black SUV appear.
The pilot steps out of the plane, holding an M4 assault rifle, ordering, "Lower your weapon!"
Dante doesn't flinch.
The SUV races toward us, honking the horn and slamming on the brakes. Sean's voice shouts, "Put the gun down, Dante!" He opens the door and jumps out .
Dante keeps his gun aimed at me as his gaze darts toward Sean. "What are you doing here?"
Sean steps in front of Dante, sternly ordering, "Put it down."
"He's a Petrov," Dante seethes.
Sean nods. "I know. But put it down."
Dante hesitates.
"Mom. Tell him to put it down. Now," Sean demands.
Bridget glances between everyone. "Dante, put it down."
He meets her eyes.
"Please," she adds.
He slowly lowers his Glock.
Sean points at Ivan and the pilot, instructing, "Lower your weapons."
They don't move.
"Do it," I call out.
They slowly obey.
Fiona asks, "Sean, what are you doing here?"
He pins his gaze on me, answering, "We have to go."
"Go where?" Fiona questions.
"Why would you go anywhere with him?" Bridget interrogates.
Tense silence fills the air.
Sean and Fiona exchange guilty looks.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Bridget barks.
Sean pins his gaze on me, stating, "We only have a small window of time if you want to bring him in alive. "
The hairs on my arms rise. I tug my bride to my side and assert, "Ivan will take you home. As soon as we're done, I'll meet you there."
"Like hell you will," Dante threatens.
"She's my wife, and she's going to our home," I snarl, fed up with this conversation and knowing how important it is to go with Sean.
Bridget prods, "What are you involved in, Sean?"
He clenches his jaw, turns toward her, and answers, "I can't discuss this, Mom. But I need to go with Kirill."
Her lips tremble. More tears well, and she flicks her gaze between him and Fiona.
"You're coming with us," Dante claims again.
I step closer, pushing Fiona back. "She needs security. Her safety is of the utmost importance. She's going home where I can ensure her safety."
Dante's scowl deepens. "The only person she needs protecting from is you."
"Enough! Fiona has threats against her life. Kirill is right. She needs security," Sean informs.
Bridget gasps. "Who is threatening her?"
"It doesn't matter. She needs Kirill's security," Sean insists.
"If Fiona is in danger, my men will keep her safe," Dante declares with worry in his voice.
I scoff. "You have major holes in your security."
Dante points and barks, "You have a lot of nerve?—"
"It's true!" Sean exclaims.
Dante's eyes widen .
Bridget grabs his arm.
"Explain yourself," Dante orders.
I lock eyes with him and state, "We don't have time for this. Threats need to be eliminated. You are not a naive man. You know that windows of time disappear if not acted upon."
His gaze darkens.
I add, "When we've taken out the threat, I will sit down with you and show you the security holes."
"Fiona," Bridget says in an emotional tone. Tears stream down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," Fiona softly offers, swiping her face.
It slices at my heart. I turn toward her. "Do you wish to go with your mom? I can have my men secure their penthouse."
More tears fall. She nods. "Please."
I address Dante. "You must agree my men are in charge. Your security can assist, but I cannot let Fiona go unless you assure your men will follow their directions."
"Petrov men?" he questions with disgust.
I shake my head. "Not all of them."
He tosses a curious and confused expression at me.
I offer, "I know this doesn't make sense. You're going to have to trust me."
He doesn't move.
"Kirill's right," Sean interjects.
Dante narrows his gaze on him .
Sean cautiously holds his hands in the air. "Fiona's safety is the only thing that matters right now."
Dante glances at Bridget.
She sniffles and nods.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and push a button. I put it to my ear, and it rings once.
"Sir," Draco, the head of my security, answers.
I reply, "I need level five moved to Dante Marino's penthouse."
"Sir?" he questions.
"My wife will be staying there with her family while I'm gone. The current security will assist the team, and I've been assured of full cooperation," I inform.
Draco stays quiet.
"Is there an issue?" I demand.
"No, sir. I'll personally handle this," he assures.
"Good." I hang up and continue, "Ivan will follow you to the penthouse, along with my other men."
Several SUVs turn the corner and race toward us.
I motion toward Dante's SUV. "It's time for us to go."
Dante hesitates, then puts his hand on Bridget's back, leading her toward their vehicle. They slide inside.
I guide Fiona to it and stop in front of the open door. I scan her eyes, unsure what I'm looking for, and try to push away a nagging feeling that I won't see her again.
Maybe she'll come to her senses when we're apart and realize she should have never married me .
I lean forward and kiss her on the forehead. "Try to get some rest." I step back, with all my insecurities flying at me.
She tosses her arms around me and rises on her tiptoes. She murmurs, "Promise me you'll be safe."
Surprise and relief lodge in my throat. I hug her tighter and reply, "Promise." I slowly release her and motion for her to get into the vehicle.
She slides in next to her mom.
I shut the door and motion to the caravan of SUVs. Two accelerate in front of Dante's vehicle. I tap the roof.
His driver falls behind my lead guys, and four more SUVs line up behind Dante's. I watch until they fade out of sight.
"Let's go," Sean states.
I don't reply as I hurry to his vehicle. I slide into the passenger's seat.
He gets in on the other side and takes off.
"Fill me in," I order.
He lowers his voice, but the disgust is still there. "Lev flipped on Gavin." He turns and accelerates onto the main road.
"Gavin who?" I question.
He grinds his molars, then relays, "O'Malley."
I shift in my seat, offering, "Sorry to hear that," knowing how difficult it is when your own blood is on the opposite side of you.
Sean grips the wheel tighter. "Never really cared for the prick. The day he arrived in Chicago from Ireland, I told Uncle Killian I didn't trust him."
"Why not?"
Sean shrugs. "Gut feeling. "
"And you're sure about him?" I question.
Sean weaves around a car and merges onto the expressway. "I might not love the guy, but he's still blood. You don't think I'd double-check what a Petrov claims?"
My pulse creeps up. As much hatred as I have for most Petrovs, I'm still one. It's a fine line of loyalty and loathing.
Sean adds, "Lev claimed he secured an abandoned building on the South Side. The Petrovs already paid him $50,000 for a down payment to kill Fiona. The total contract was $500,000. He gets the remaining $450,000 once the demands are met. I hacked into his laptop. It's all in the chatterbox."
My gut flips. I already know the answer but still ask, "And what were the demands?"
The color leeches from Sean's face. He keeps his eyes on the road, gritting out, "They wanted my sister's rape and murder streamed on the darknet."
I curl my fists into tight balls, hating the blood that runs through my veins more than ever. I take a few deep breaths and demand, "Who's behind the hit?"
Sean shakes his head. "We haven't found out yet. Lev and Igor were supposed to take part. They aren't very high up. Their clearance level only involves taking and implementing orders. My guess is that Gavin isn't any higher up on the totem pole."
"Then do your job and hack into whatever you have to so we know who's behind this!" I roar.
"As soon as we kill this motherfucker, I will. I thought it was more important to track this bastard down."
He's right, but I don't say anything, turning toward the window. The thought of vile things being done to my new bride while being broadcast all over the darknet makes me ill .
And ready to kill.
Several minutes of tense silence fill the car.
Sean finally says, "I knew Dante and my mom were flipping out, but that was pretty bad back there."
"No shit."
"What's your plan to fix it?" he asks.
I turn, crossing my arms. "Not sure. You want to give me some insight?"
He doesn't take his eyes off the road, veers off the ramp, and doesn't stop at the red light, going through it.
I add, "Glad you're full of ideas."
We don't speak the rest of the way. Sean pulls into an alley and parks. He announces, "It's the house on the corner." He turns off the SUV and cuts the headlights.
My heart pounds faster. I reach for my Glock, and Sean pulls out his.
He hands me a silencer and then picks up his phone, asking the person on the end, "How many are inside?"
I put the silencer on my gun and wait.
"You sure?" he asks.
My chest tightens.
He states, "Good." He hangs up and says, "It's only Gavin. He's a skinny motherfucker, so it shouldn't be hard."
I feel a flicker of relief but there's also disappointment. I wish whoever ordered this hit were present, but that isn't reality, and I know it. So I open my door and get out, putting on a pair of black gloves .
We creep down the street, staying in the shadows. Once we're close to the corner, Sean points toward the back, and we split.
He moves toward the front, and I slip deeper into the darkness. When I get to the run-down back door, I slowly turn the knob.
It's locked, so I assess the door and point my gun at the lock, then shoot.
A crack fills the air. I push through the door, step into the dark room, and turn toward the sound of scuffling.
A soft, green glow radiates in the next room. I spot the tail end of a shadow and race toward it, lunging my body over Gavin.
An incoherent yelp flies out of him, and he falls to the floor.
Sean bursts through the front door.
I pin my body over Gavin's small frame, putting him in a choke hold.
He writhes under me, but he's no match for my strength.
"Motherfucker," I bark out as visions of my new worst nightmare flare in my mind.
All I see is a helpless Fiona, and it turns me into a crazed man. Any ounce of control I have disappears.
I squeeze his neck harder until he's barely able to fight.
"You're going to kill him!" Sean roars next to me.
I should stop so I can spend hours torturing him and assess if he does know who ordered the hit, but reason and reality are two different things.
"Kirill!" Sean warns, but his voice sounds like it's coming from a tunnel.
The green glow swirls with darkness, and the air turns thick with my rage. In Russian, I curse Gavin for everything he planned on doing to my wife.
It's only when Sean tears me off him, barking, "It's over," that I realize what's happened.
Gavin lies on the floor, his face purple, his eyes wide and lifeless.
"You weren't supposed to kill him yet," Sean reminds me.
I spit on the man who planned to do horrible things to my wife with the sickest of men watching, and order, "Call in the cleanup crew. And get hacking."
Sean crosses his arms, staring at me with a narrow gaze.
I leave, embracing the cold air, wanting nothing more than to get back to my wife and ensure she's safe.