Chapter 15
Alexei
Blood seeps into my vision, slow and steady, like a cruel caress. No matter how many times I blink, I still see it, red coalescing with the darkness. Faint screams grow louder, till the shrieks tear at my ear drums, making me clutch my ears.
"I didn't want this life. I didn't ask for any of this! Please, just let me go."
The voice that used to soothe my nerves like a balm, now barely recognisable. Screams of pain split up the words, till they soon become nothing but noise. The noise pierces my brain like shards of glass, cutting every happy memory I ever had into fragments.
"I'm sorry."
A gurgled sound replaces the words. All noise cut out except the sickening slick sound of a blade as it slashes through flesh. A sputtering cough, and then some choking. I close my eyes, reeling from the pain, feeling that blade slice through me, as if it cut through my very own flesh.
Blood everywhere, pooling on the floor, dripping over the chair, drenching everything red. And then a gunshot rings through the air, turning everything black.
I wake up panting, gripping the sheets so tight, they rip at the edges. Warm moonlight spills into the room. I must have dozed off sometime during the night.
My body is trembling as I sit up straight, skin slicked with sweat.
I glance at the digital alarm on my bedside table and it reads two in the morning.
My ears are still ringing and my head has started to throb.
Soon it will turn into a full grown migraine, the type that makes it hard to think and concentrate on anything other than the pain.
I rush out of bed and head straight for the cabinet in the ensuite bathroom. Pills have stopped working so I've resorted to injections recently. I grab a vial, double checking the label for the painkiller I was prescribed.
I then jam the needle head and pull its contents into a sterile syringe. My arm still has the faint markings from the previous episode and I plunge the needle into my bicep, feeling the sharp prick and then the warm sensation of the drug pooling into muscle.
Once I'm done, I sink to the floor and lean against the bathtub, breathing heavily. One breath in, one breath out. Soon the pain subsides and the ringing in my ears disappears.
It's one of those nights where I know I won't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. I stand up and grab a pair of sweatpants from a nearby rack, slipping it on.
I then head downstairs, padding over to the kitchen across the darkened hallway. Outside, the night sky is bright, a star or two dotting the sky, hanging above a landscape of skyscrapers. I gulp down two glasses of water to calm myself and then pour myself some whiskey for the nerves.
I sit down in the dark, looking at no where in particular as I finish the glass in three swigs. The stillness of the night is my only companion as I pour myself another drink and then I look through one of my burner phones, pouring through updates from my subordinates.
Might as well get some work done. My eyes skim through the messages and updates from my subordinates.
Profits made. Deals cut. Shipping updates.
My emails contained the more legal updates—company acquisitions, liquidations and hostile takeovers. I was too tired to look through those but one email in capital letters from my team of lawyers drew my attention.
A merger with Limestone Ltd. That was one of our target companies. The one that belonged to the Marino brothers, the right hand men to him.
My teeth gnashed together as I read the email multiple times. There was to be a board meeting next week, but as of now, the Bratva were major shareholders. I can't believe they agreed to it, I can't believe they finally succumbed.
The Marino brothers were part of the Italian outfit, the inner circle I've never been able to break through. That was until we found evidence of tax evasion and money laundering in one of their fronts.
Granted, everyone of us has outfits like these, but the point was never to get caught. It took awhile for them to acquiesce though, I was beginning to think we would have to get our police to threaten them.
I sink back against my seat, smiling to myself at this piece of good news. My smile only widened, because in a matter of weeks, none of this would matter.
Because now I have his biggest weakness of all. A witness who will oust him from the mafia and the world he so carefully built.
Thinking about how important Daphne is, has me getting up from the couch and accessing the cameras I have laid out all over the hotel room she's in. I pour myself another drink and sit down again, sifting through the live feed.
Ever since we brought her here, she's been sulking in her room, keeping to herself. I've been keeping an eye on Yuri as well, making sure he doesn't try anything funny with her. You can never be too sure with anyone, even an imbecile like him.
He's supposed to be my eyes and ears, as well as her cook and cleaner till the trial approaches. So far a date hasn't been set but I've already submitted the charges to the tribunal. By now, Marino will know that I most likely have her.
It only reinforces how important she is and how badly I need to keep her safe.
I don't see her in the living room or the kitchen. Yuri tells me she eats, but I don't know when because I never see her outside her room. Yuri is there however, seated on the sofa with his head tilted back and mouth wide open.
The fool is asleep, and then I see a flicker of movement behind him. She moves like the wind, the little rabbit, zipping past him in the direction of the door.
I switch over to the cameras facing the bolted door and there she is, struggling uselessly like she did yesterday and the day before. How tiresome.
She's determined, I'll give her that, but she's not getting past that reinforced door. Not even bullets can penetrate it. I had it custom built for her. I won't let her slip through my grasp again
Over my dead body.
She sinks to the floor and for a second I feel a flicker of pity, watching as she stares at her surroundings pathetically. Bright white moonlight shines across her face, illuminating her soft skin and pouting lips.
For someone so small and worrisome, there's a side of her that slips out every now and again. I know it's there, somewhere deep inside, itching to come out. I felt it when she bit my lip and the other night when she pushed me against the wall to kiss me.
Blood rushes to my groin at the memory. I had the worst hard on after that incident, the way she took over like that caught me off guard and that turned me on more than it should have.
I take a huge gulp of whiskey, rubbing myself through my pants, already straining against the fabric. Then it hits me—what I'm doing—and I freeze, doing a double take.
Fuck. This is embarrassing.
Here I am, watching her, thinking about her, replaying everything she did while I touch myself.
I quickly shut the feed off, shaking myself out of it. It's been awhile since I got laid. There, that's the reason.
I pick up the phone, scrolling through the contacts of women I've hooked up with in the past. No one piques my interest and I grow bored the longer I scroll. I huff in disappointment, this isn't working. I need to distract myself with something more productive.
I grab my keys and slip on a shirt before heading downstairs to the private basement. My cars are parked in a row and I head for the nearest one—a sleek black Lamborghini. The engine roars to life as I peel out of the driveway, flooring the tyres as I head to one of our sites.
I'd been planning to do this tomorrow, but what the hell. Might as well get it done now.
It takes me an hour to reach the pier. Ships loom along the docks, engines humming low, their decks packed tight with containers that stretch endlessly into the dark.
I take out the guns in the compartment and tuck them into my pockets. The air is colder here as I step outside into the chill of the night, shoes crunching against the gravel.
"Pakhan, we weren't expecting you," my men stutter when I walk past the gates, heading for the decrepit building up ahead.
"Boss," Dimitri falls in step by my side. I had texted him to meet me here before coming and he's already cleared the place, save for the man I'm here to meet.
The door is locked and I hear some scurrying on the other side when Dimitri announces our arrival. A measly looking man finally unlocks it, his eyes averting my gaze when he greets us.
I walk inside the small office that reeks of tobacco and weed.
"My shipment was late last month," I grit out, scouring the place for what I'm looking for. "And the numbers don't add up."
"Our supplier was delayed. It couldn't be helped." Finch mumbles incoherently. You would think someone two timing me would be better at lying, but he looks like he's about to collapse from fear.
His face is red, scraggly hair matted and sparse as he runs his hands through it.
"Mr Finch, if you wanted to work for someone else, you should have just said so." I walk up to his shaking form and catch him glancing at his work desk. I then spot the lines carved into the floor under the table, forming a faint square. So that's where it is.
Dimitri's been watching him for weeks. He hardly ever leaves this place—except last Monday, the same day last month, and the month before that.
I grab a fire poker and use the sharp edge to nudge open the hidden compartment in his floor. His protests are muffled by Dimitri's hand as he holds him back.
Our suspicions are confirmed when the top part gives way, revealing piles and piles of money inside. Far, far more than he makes here, handling my shipments.
I let out a humourless laugh and turn around to see his face going a sick shade of blue.
"It's not mine," he struggles, choking and sputtering against Dimitri.
"Interesting," I tut, smiling at him. "So you're telling me you haven't been selling our trade information to the Italians? That you didn't let slip our suppliers location the night he was killed? That this money just so happens to sit under your desk, basking in the scent of your feet?"
He nods ferociously, eyes going wide at the site of the gun I draw.
"You know, Mr Finch. I never trusted you, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt, because you've been with us for years."
"Yes, yes. I'm but a loyal servant to you and your family, Alexei. Always and forever."
I cock the gun, sliding the bullets into place. He thrashes against Dimitri, looking small and helpless compared to Dimitri's towering frame.
I then walk over and show him the texts we intercepted—messages detailing our shipment dates, cargo numbers and the address to one of our suppliers warehouses. His eyes go wide as he reads the texts he's been sending to our enemies over the past few months.
"If there's one thing I can't tolerate, it's liars, Mr. Finch." I click the slider, flipping off the safety.
Dimitri throws him to the floor and he stands up quickly, his protests sharp and desperate. A gun shot rings through the air, slicing through the silence in the docks and his body crumples to the floor in a matter of seconds.
Never liked it when they begged. Like it would ever make a difference.
"I trust you to handle the rest," I say to Dimitri, gesturing to the money and the dead body in the cabin. He's already on the phone with the clean up crew as I walk out of there, feeling miles better than when I walked in.
Another obstacle out of the way. It's been a long and winding path to revenge but slowly and surely, everything is falling into place. Soon I will have the bloodbath I've been envisioning. His death and destruction has been my driving force for years.
Now all I need to do is wait.