Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
T he shadows of the warehouse add to the ominous atmosphere, a backdrop to the sordid dealings we’re currently running. Federov’s soldiers are stationed around the corners of the building, even more patrolling the outside. When it comes to security, Konstantin is not somebody to second guess. Infiltrating an organization like his instantly comes with a health warning—or more like a death warning.
I exhale a cloud of smoke, hoping the nicotine racing through my veins can clear my thoughts for just a few minutes.
“Don’t look so angry, Sovietnik.” Vadim approaches like a lion on the prowl, slowly cornering his prey. The fucker is dangerous, and not just in terms of his current mental state. Despite my role, he’s the one whispering words in his brother’s ear—words that could start a war, if he’s not careful.
After infiltrating Bonanno’s weapons shipment—which was shamefully easy—Konstantin has taken it upon himself to withhold the liquor deliveries until The Five approve our request for more access to the docks. With more shipments coming in, we need this. I need this. And if The Five refuse us, things are about to get a hell of a lot more dicey.
I watch Federov’s soldiers empty the cargo into their respective vehicles. Crates are being loaded into the back of unregistered trucks, while Konstantin grins with sick satisfaction.
“What’s in the crates?” I ask Vadim. I grit my teeth as he attempts to swing an arm over my shoulders—only the height difference makes it hard for him to do so.
“That’s none of your business,” he apprises. “ If it was, you would already know.”
I have a good idea of what’s in them, and though Konstantin has kept this to himself, I don’t need to guess who advised him to do it. Vadim has always craved the power that Konstantin has. This is just his way of trying to prove he’s more valuable than his brother secretly believes.
“ You’re going to start a war,” I warn. Withholding Gambino’s liquor was one thing. Infiltrating Bonanno’s weapons shipment was another. But if my suspicions are correct, whatever is in those crates is about to fuck up the entire city.
“ Good. Then the Italians will know better than to play games with us,” Vadim sneers.
I glance sideways, watching the soldiers close the back of the trucks, the engines rattling to life as they start them up. “ This is just as much a game and you know it,” I grumble, shrugging him off and stomping out my cigarette on the ground.
Vadim doesn’t respond, he just steps away and heads towards the convoy of vehicles that are lined up ready to leave. I exhale when he’s far enough away from me. Pushing buttons and forcing The Five to give us what we want was the plan, and I’ve tried to be civil about it. I even asked Alvaro nicely, but that didn’t work. Even after a good fucking, Alvaro is still volatile.
“ Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
A cigarette pack is thrust in front of me, tattooed fingers curling around the box. Taking one of Kai’s cigarettes out, I spark up the end and take a long drag. “ What makes you wonder?” I respond in Russian.
Kai stares out at the vehicles leaving the compound one by one. “ Why Konstantin puts up with him?”
“Hmm…” I muse, taking another drag. “ You can’t choose your family, I guess.”
Kai snaps his gaze to mine, something swimming in those dark eyes of his. They’re so dark that I’d almost say they’re obsidian, but then again, I know about his past and how he got here, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had somehow been possessed by the devil.
Realizing what I’ve said, I clear my throat. “You know she’s safe,” I assure.
“But for how long?” he questions.
That’s probably one of the only questions I don’t know the answer to. If I could help him, I would, but my hands are tied with my current situation. A predicament I wish I had no involvement in. It’s very rare that I question why I’m doing what I’m doing, but recently, something has set off a voice, like a constant commentator in the back of my mind. A voice telling me my morality is stretching too thin, and one day I’m going to suffer the consequences.
After five years of working for the Federovs, I thought my time would’ve been up a lot sooner. I was wrong. And the longer I’m working for the Bratva, the closer I am to that clock we call life suddenly stopping.
“ You know I’ll do what I can to help,” I offer.
He takes a long, hard drag on his cigarette, until the cherry burns for so long there’s nothing left of his smoke. He exhales harshly, enveloping us in a suffocating cloud before tossing his butt onto the floor. “ There’s no point if she’s dead,” he mutters.
I grimace at the morbidity in his words, watching as he steps towards the last SUV waiting for us. I follow suit, flicking my butt away and pacing towards the passenger door. “ Let’s grab a drink,” I suggest. I need to take the edge off tonight because too much has happened in such a short time frame that I don’t think Konstantin realizes what he’s doing. And if he does, he’s obviously not thinking straight.
“Mosaique?” he asks
I nod and he starts the engine, peeling us out of the warehouse. The sound of puddles splashing under the tires fills the silence we’ve created, an awkward one I wish I could fill. But I know nothing I say can fill the void he’s currently anchored to. He’s stuck here just as much as I am, only we have varying motivations that are keeping us here. And until we can unshackle ourselves from them, we’ll always be lost to this world.
* * *
M osaique is bursting with semi-naked girls, half-drunk guys, and staff trying to navigate through the hoard collecting on the dance floor. From where I’m currently sitting in the VIP booth, it’s a great turn out. The liquor is pouring off the shelves, and everyone looks to be having a great time.
“So, tell me about Prescott,” I say, turning to Kai. I’m still on the fence about the guy, which means I need all the information I can get. Dirty cops aren’t to be trusted for that exact reason. Prescott is an anomaly, someone I don’t want to include in our plans. Unfortunately, Konstantin has requested we keep him on our side.
“The guy has a chip on his shoulder,” Kai answers before taking a line of coke from the table. He pinches his nose before swiping the residue from the table across his gums. “Bonanno killed his brother, or something like that.”
“Bonanno?” I frown.
He shakes his head. “Not Alvaro. His father.”
“Shit,” I mutter, leaning back in my seat. “I can see why he wants to help us so badly, then.”
“Yeah,” Kai chuckles. “Use us as the donkey to carry his load. Feed us information, and we get our hands dirty for him.”
I take a sip of my whiskey, mulling over our conversation. “Has he given you any information yet?”
He shakes his head. “He’s keeping that strictly between you guys.”
I scoff at that. It’s a fucking insult to Kai for Prescott to be keeping shit from him after Kai brought him to me in the first place. It’s not like Prescott has a hard job. Hell, I could call in a few favors and do that shit myself. But I know Konstantin will want to avoid the attention this time around. If anything gets back to The Five, it’ll be war.
“Hey! Isn’t that the girl from the other night?” Kai points towards the bar and I follow the direction where two girls are giggling as they order drinks from the bartender. If it weren’t for her strikingly familiar features, I’d ignore my friend altogether, but Alanis—much like her brother—grabs your attention without even trying. Her dark hair, bright green eyes—that I swear are a shade lighter than her brother’s—and wide smile captivate me.
She shouldn’t be here. This is where all good things die, despite the carnival theme this place gives off. She needs to leave, but I have no idea how to get her to go.
A waitress passes by me with a tray of champagne, her blonde hair flipping over her shoulder as she catches my eye.
“Send two glasses to the girls at the bar,” I order, directing her to Alanis and her friend. It’s quick thinking and probably a stupid idea, but it’ll draw her attention to me, and hopefully she’ll remember the warning Genovese and her brother gave her the other night.
With a subtle nod and a weak smile, the waitress darts off to do as she’s told, leaving Kai glaring at me. “You could have invited them up here,” he grumbles.
“They’re not your playthings, Kai.” I take a sip of my drink as I watch the girls receive their glasses, Alanis locking eyes with me instantly. “And they shouldn’t be here.” I lift my drink in the air, which I hope is enough to warn her that I’m here and she shouldn’t be. If there’s one thing to take away from the other night, it’s that her brother doesn’t want her near me, and I respect that. I wouldn’t want her near me either.
Unfortunately, she and her friend don’t take the hint. Before long they’re moving to the dance floor, swaying to ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande, which I find quite ironic.
I find myself watching Alanis longer than necessary. I don’t know why, but I feel somewhat protective over her. There’s just something about her, a defiance I recognize within myself. Or maybe it’s the fact she’s Varo’s sister and I feel the need to make sure she’s safe. Fuck . If that doesn’t conjure up questions I have to ask myself. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with him, or why. All I know is whenever I’m around him, I don’t want to be the adviser to the Bratva. I just want to be… me.
It’s almost weird how the atmosphere shifts. One minute I’m carefully watching Alanis Bonanno, silently killing off the men that are eye-fucking her from the edges of the room, the next I’m pushing up off my seat as I spot Alvaro storming up to her.
Animosity sparks between them, a conversation I can’t make out. But it’s clear Alvaro is pissed, and I have a sneaky suspicion it’s to do with her being here. Either that, or he’s pissed she’s caught him here. The longer I watch them, the more I feel the need to intercept whatever is going on. This place is dangerous enough without the fucking leader of the Bonanno family waltzing in like he owns it.
“Is there a problem, Bonannos?”
Varo has his gaze narrowed on his sister, some warning filtering through his glare before he answers me. “Nope.”
The tension between them shifts, a wave of recognition and acceptance floating in the space between them. In an instant, Alanis nods and turns, rushing off to find her friend, leaving me with a very angry looking Alvaro.
“Wasn’t expecting you here,” I remark, moving to rest my glass on top of the bar. It gives me the chance to close the distance without attracting too much attention. And when I’m close enough to smell his woodsy aftershave that’s laced with citrus, I suddenly find it difficult to think straight.
“I’ve come to deliver a message,” he snaps.
Tilting my head, I observe the way his dark lashes frame his eyes, the shadows that seep into his glare. Either he really fucking hates me, or he hates how much he wants to fuck me. I'm actually good with either. “Shouldn’t you send a lackey to do that shit?” I tease.
“Mi—”
“Relax,” I laugh, recognizing he’s not in the mood. “Come with me.”
Guiding us around the bar, I motion for him to follow me to the office that sits at the end of a long hallway. The music can still be heard, the baseline thumping against the walls, but at least it’s away from prying eyes and we can actually hear ourselves think.
I push through the door, holding it open for him before slipping inside and locking it behind us. “What’s the message?” I ask, stepping forward.
Varo counters backwards, creating space between us that I really don’t like. “First of all, fucking me over is one thing.”
I tilt my head at his choice of words, smirking as I run a finger over my bottom lip, remembering what we were doing a little over a week ago. Pretty sure he was the one doing the fucking, but you know…semantics.
“Secondly,” he growls, pointing a finger at me. “Fucking over Gambino’s business is a low blow.”
“What can I say? The Federovs want an answer.”
Varo lunges forward, getting so close our noses are touching. “If you had been patient, you would’ve had one,” he threatens through a clenched jaw.
Even though he looks like he’s about five seconds from punching me, I sense that there’s something else he wants to get off his chest.
Pressing my forehead against his, I let my breath skate over his lips. “And thirdly?”
“Thirdly?” Varo’s brows furrow. He’s about to step back when I catch him by the back of the neck, pulling him back towards me.
We fall into silence, staring into one another’s eyes. Only our hesitant breaths fill the space. Being this close to him has me all kinds of worked up, and despite the rage painted across Alvaro’s face, I’m pretty sure he feels the same.
I run my fingers up the base of his skull, sliding them through his hair. Varo leans into the touch, his eyes closing for a split second.
“Are you the mole?”