6. Ben
6
BEN
A fter hearing Igor and Geoff talking about the Baranovs and their mutual desire to bring the family down, I felt more inclined to accept that hit Lev wanted done. I wasn’t ready to sign up as an official ally of the Baranovs, but I was more intrigued about what it could be like if I leaned on them and affiliated exclusively with them.
Unfortunately, Lev wasn’t easily accessible. He’d gone through the proper channels to reach out to me. He’d left messages on my encrypted lines to give me the heads up that he was interested in my services. I still wanted more details before making my decision, and that was a caution I harbored before accepting any job. In order to discuss this hit on O’Malley further, I’d need to locate Lev and pin him down long enough to hold a conversation. Since Boris’s death, though, he was nearly unreachable.
I soon found out why. Oleg Baranov was in the hospital, and as the boss’s apparent right-hand man, Lev was there often.
Eva was the one who’d let that secret out. When trying to hack into the mansion’s main phone lines, I picked up on her call to Irina. It seemed that Oleg had suffered a health scare, some kind of a cardiac event, and he was being supervised at the nearest hospital. Word hadn’t traveled about Oleg’s health, though. The Baranovs were cautious for anyone to get word that the big leader was declining.
I doubted Oleg was declining. Now that I’d adopted a disguise as a health aide to sneak into Oleg’s private suite at the hospital, I saw the evidence of him very much alive, if sedated and asleep. If anyone wanted my unofficial opinion, Oleg could do well with cutting out some of those cigars, but he didn’t seem to be on death’s door. The nurses and doctors there had the same thoughts. Even though I’d snuck in here to confront Lev and talk to him about that job, I wouldn’t dismiss the intel I was gathering about Oleg’s condition while I was at it.
“He is stable,” one doctor told Lev again.
“Then why isn’t he awake?” the Baranov soldier said. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, antsy as he peered at Oleg sleeping in the bed.
“His heart needs to recover. Rest is important and?—”
“But you’re not sedating him as heavily anymore, right?” Vik asked. He was here with Lev, visiting—or overseeing—Oleg’s care.
“Correct.” The doctor nodded as a nurse filed out of the room.
I busied myself with pretending to tidy and organize the medical supplies on the cart near Oleg’s bed. Tubes ran from him and plenty of patches were left as stickers on his skin. The Baranov leader was unconscious and still, but his vitals seemed normal on the panel connected to him.
“He is receiving a lower dose of sedation, and as his recovery continues, we will adjust our plans accordingly.” With one more nod, this one as an acknowledgement or farewell, the man turned to leave.
Without any other medical staff in the room except for me, the two soldiers studied their leader.
“You think this has to do with Boris’s death?” Vik asked.
Lev shook his head. “No. We’ve ruled out any foul play. Boris died because he was an overweight alcoholic. The autopsy proved it.” He glanced at Vik. “Boris wasn’t killed. He just died—no surprise about that. Therefore, it’s ridiculous to worry that someone tried to kill Oleg.”
Vik scoffed. “Ridiculous? Don’t tell Rurik that. He took a bullet from the last time someone tried to kill Oleg.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Lev shoved his hands in his pockets. “Someone will always be out to get him. Or us. But I don’t think Boris’s death caused Oleg to have a heart attack.”
Heart attack, huh? I didn’t intend to share this news with anyone, but I felt better to have all the facts possible.
“What about the stress, though?” Vik asked as he crossed his arms then sighed. “If the stress about Boris dying could’ve caused Oleg to have that heart attack.”
“Maybe if Oleg was fond of his brother.”
“Which we know he wasn’t.” Vik smirked. “Oleg tolerated Boris.”
“We all did,” Lev said wryly.
“Then I fear the stress about his search for Sonya is taking a toll on him,” Vik replied.
Sonya?
At the mention of that name, I furrowed my brow and dropped a packet of tissues that I was putting away on the cart.
That was her name. Sonya was the name, or alias, of my gorgeous virgin who’d been game for a one-night stand with me upstate. I’d been in the area to kill an Ilyin soldier, a simple little hit to pass the time. Sonya had been a pleasant surprise on a boring night in that small town, but it was strange that I still couldn’t shake her from my mind. She was imprinted on me somehow, but I figured it was just because I knew I’d never see her again.
Plenty of women could be named Sonya.
But which Sonya was Oleg searching for?
What is he talking about?
Realizing Lev hadn’t commented on Vik’s remark yet, I lifted my gaze to watch the two Baranov men in the reflection of the glass door to the cabinet on the wall. As I did, I locked into direct eye contact with Lev.
He narrowed his eyes, watching me through the reflection. His lips flattened as he stepped forward, and I reacted. Spinning quickly, I had just enough time to deflect his grab at my arm. Vik was no slouch, though. He had to have noticed Lev’s attention on me, and with my immediate move to defend myself, he snapped to focus.
“You!” Lev scowled. “I thought you looked familiar.”
“Me?” I feigned innocence, smoothing down the hospital uniform I’d borrowed for this cover. “I’m just?—”
“Just the fucker who’s been everywhere and nowhere at all.” His gaze sharpened as he snarled. Vik remained alert and tense at his side, as if waiting to jump in and hold him back. Or attack me with him.
I raised my brows in a silent question, goading him on to explain.
“Ben fucking Warner, huh?” Lev guessed, pointing at my face. “I remember when I killed you at Yusef Ilyin’s cabin.”
I smiled slowly, shaking my head. “That was supposed to be my hit, by the way.”
“It was?” Lev asked, not lightening up yet.
“Someone else had a hit on him?” Vik asked. “Who?”
I glanced at him. “You’ve been catching up since coming out of the whorehouse, huh?” I teased of him.
Vik scoffed but refrained from glaring at me like Lev was. I expected this conversation to be confrontational, but at least one of them wasn’t a hothead.
“What don’t you know about us?” Vik muttered.
“I do my research.” I made it my business to know the Mafia’s business, including how Vik had gone from supervising a whorehouse to being something more of an upper leader within the organization. “Yet I still don’t know enough details about why you’ve contacted me to kill O’Malley.” There was no point reclaiming my cover. I came here to talk to Lev, and now that I had his attention, my disguise was no longer necessary. It was time to cut the crap.
“What the fuck?” Lev sneered at me. “I reached out to you weeks ago, and you’ve been impossible to get ahold of since.”
I shrugged. “I tend to stay mobile.”
“And now you sneak in here to spy on us ?” He pointed at himself.
I had to tread carefully now. Given how secretive they were being about Oleg’s condition, I couldn’t be cocky about getting in and up close without their knowing. Sneaking around and being stealthy was all part of the thrill. Killing my hits was the ultimate high, but I loved doing this clandestine shit. It fed the sick and twisted part of my soul, knowing I could always trick and fool others so easily.
“I came here for a chance to talk to you about this hit you wanted to hire me for.”
“You snuck in here like this to accomplish that?” he accused.
“Well, I’ve got your attention now. We can talk.” When he didn’t lose the scowl, I added, “You’ve been a hard man to get ahold of lately.”
“Ever hear of a fucking phone?” he shot back.
“I prefer obtaining my information in person.”
“And undercover?” Vik arched a brow.
“What the hell do you need more information for?” Lev glanced at Oleg and frowned. “I reached out with a job for you to kill O’Malley. I gave you a price. If it’s not enough, we can negotiate.”
Wow. That was impressive. Hiring a contract killer wasn’t cheap. The price wasn’t my issue, but the fact that the Baranovs could spend accordingly made them stand out even more. These guys were so… normal, not cheapskates like Petrovs or the Ilyins.
“What more do you need to know?” Lev demanded.
“For starters, why you wanted him dead,” I said.
Lev laughed. It was a single, rough bark of a sound as he tossed his head back. “Give me a goddamn break, you asshole. You want to know why ? What the hell does it matter? It’s a hit. It’s a job. Are you growing a conscience or something now?”
“I prefer to be informed of all the consequences that could follow my potential kills.”
“Potential.” Lev smirked, seeming amused instead of just pissed off that I’d been eavesdropping here. Or maybe he was more irritated with the fact that I delayed accepting a job from him, that I liked to do things my way, not his. “A potential kill. You make it sound like you’re unsure you can handle a hit job. Then again, if someone hired you to kill Yusef but I beat you to it, maybe you’re not the elite assassin everyone’s making you out to be, after all.”
Oh, fuck you. My patience would wane really fast if he was going to be a cocky asshole.
“Who hired you to kill Yusef?” Lev asked.
It wasn’t my nature to share details. I was the one who asked the questions and got answers. Something about this fucker intrigued me, though. Lev was hotheaded, but he didn’t seem to be a petty moron like other Mafia men I dealt with. “Igor Petrov.”
Lev rolled his eyes. “That’s hilarious,” he said, deadpan.
“Wait. So Yusef Ilyin fucked us over with that drug deal…” Vik said.
“Which pissed him off to the point that he’d ask me to kill Yusef,” Lev finished for him, gesturing at Oleg on the bed.
“Then Igor hired you”—Vik addressed me—“to kill Yusef…”
“And then later, he’d help the Ilyins capture me in retaliation for my killing Yusef,” Lev said, completing Vik’s observation.
I shrugged. “Sounds about right.”
“Fucking Petrov,” Lev and Vik said in unison.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m confident you’re not the only one with that sentiment.” Igor had quite the reputation for stirring up shit and trying to come out on top.
“But I killed you,” Lev said, narrowing his eyes. “The day I finally got to Yusef, you were ‘guarding’ him and I shot you.”
“Nothing a face mask can’t fix. I had a body double end up as that carcass.” I grinned.
Lev studied me for a long moment. “So, what is it? You’re some kind of ex-military spy? Master of disguise and pain in the ass who had a conscience about whom he kills now?”
“Sort of. You can form your own opinions of me.” Now that I had him talking, I wondered how I could get them back to the person I really wanted to know more about.
Sonya.
There was no way that they could be talking about my one-night stand. There was also no guarantee that Sonya was her real name. Something nagged at me, though. Now that I’d heard “her” name, and I kept dreaming about her every time I fell asleep…
“What were you talking about earlier? About Oleg being so stressed out about looking for Sonya.”
Lev huffed a laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s none of your business what we were talking about. Your only business with the Baranov family is whether or not you want us to hire you to kill O’Malley.”
He was right. So far, that was the only connection between us. But I couldn’t give up on this mention of Sonya.
“Who’s Sonya?” I asked again, as if he hadn’t shot my line of questioning down.
“None of your business,” Lev repeated.
“Why do you want to know?” Vik asked.
Dammit. They weren’t going to tell me shit. They were too guarded, and rightly so. If I had to guess, this Sonya woman was a member of their family, and that, again, impressed me. Lev and Vik stood in for Oleg, and with their attitudes, it was clear that they were decent enough to be protective of their women. It cut such a contrast to how Igor and Geoff had spoken about the women in this world—nothing more than disgraces or pawns in their eyes.
It was time for me to cooperate if I wanted more intel about anything else.
“You know what? I’ll do it. I’ll accept the hit on O’Malley.” This way, actively working for them would give me more chances for me to overhear anything else they might say about Sonya.
Come on. There’s no fucking way it’s her , right?
Lev accepted my offered hand and shook it, but he eyed me cautiously. “This stays between us.”
“All my jobs are confidential.”
Lev nodded. “Good. Then maybe after you finish the hit on O’Malley, we could hire you for this one.” He glanced at his sleeping leader. “We all assumed they were killed years ago, but just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help. So he doesn’t have to stress about it anymore.”
Vik nodded. “It’d be nice to have answers once and for all. And he wouldn’t stress over it ever again.”
“Stress about what?” I asked, volleying my gaze between the two men.
“About finding Sonya, his niece who went missing eleven years ago.” Lev watched me closely.
What? “Oleg’s niece ?” I asked as my heart beat faster.
“Yeah,” Vik said. “Eva’s older sister.”
Oh, fuck.
Lev narrowed his eyes, still watching me so intensely. I was damned good at masking my emotions, but the reason for my nagging feeling was revealed fully now. Lev was right to notice and be suspicious of the shocked expression I tried and failed to hide. Because it hit me like a punch in the gut.
Sonya.
It wasn’t just the mention of my one-night stand’s name that had her on my mind. Since the moment I saw Eva at the mansion, I’d struggled with how similar the women were. That was what nagged me.
And now, I knew why—because they bore a resemblance to each other as sisters !
I hadn’t taken a sexy stranger’s virginity at that shitty bar upstate over three months ago.
I’d claimed a lost Mafia princess’s virginity.
Sonya Baranov was my one-night stand.
“So the sooner you do this hit for us…” Lev said evenly, jarring me out of my reverie.
I nodded, taking a step back and holding up my hand to cut him off. “Right. I heard you.” The news that I’d slept with a Mafia princess blew my mind. “Kill O’Malley. Then track down…”
“Sonya,” Lev said.
“It—” I cleared my throat, furrowing my brow as I let this news sink into my brain. “Uh, it’d be my pleasure.”
I didn’t need him to order me to find her.
I’d already been struggling with missing her, anyway.