Chapter 12
Alexei
The sun beats down on the truck lot, transforming chrome bumpers into blinding mirrors. I shield my eyes while scanning the rows of semis until I spot him.
Ronnie Matheson leans against his rig, cigarette dangling from his lips, scraggly brown hair suggesting he hasn’t bathed in the last few days. Tucked between two parked Peterbilts, Ronnie doesn’t spot us yet. The other driver is inside, chatting to a waitress.
I nod to Vanya, who flashes me a smile and slides a hand inside his suit jacket. Ivan Orlov, or Vanya to his closest friends and family, could pass for an actor with his classically handsome features, rich brown hair, and warm hazel eyes. He’s certainly got enough charisma to rival a movie star.
Maxim Belov looms like a rugged mannequin, moving only to push his disheveled black hair from his arctic blue eyes. Max’s scowl surfaces as easily as Vanya’s smile.
Vitaly hangs back, checking his phone. My younger half-brother’s still pissed that I’ve been secretly pursuing leads on MJ. We may share a father and the same curly brown hair, but that’s where the similarities end. Regardless, I’m glad he’s here. Glad the others are too.
Four of us for one overweight truck driver.
Overkill? Maybe.
But Ronnie’s been running his mouth to the Falcones, and now one of our shipments has gone missing.
We approach from different angles, cutting off his escape routes while keeping an eye out for any witnesses. Thankfully, no one’s around.
Ronnie clocks us when we’re twenty feet away. His bulky body goes rigid, and his eyes dart between us as he calculates his odds.
They’re not good.
“Gentlemen.” He drops the cigarette and grinds the stub beneath his boot. “Didn’t expect company today.”
Vanya lounges against the massive tire of Ronnie’s truck, all casual grace and lazy smiles. The most lethal kind of predator…one who hides behind a disarming face. “We were in the area, and it’s a beautiful day for a chat, isn’t it? Thought we’d catch up, see how business is treating you.”
Despite the breeze, sweat beads on Ronnie’s upper lip. He crosses his arms over his chest and plants his feet wide. But I can see the fear in his eyes. Smell it on him.
“I’m on a schedule.” He glances at his watch. “Got a delivery in Milwaukee—”
“No, you don’t.” I step forward, the silver coin I toss between my fingers gleaming in the sunlight. “Your manifest says you’re empty. Heading back to the depot.”
His eyes widen. “You checked my—”
“We check everything.” This is so much easier than dealing with Aurora. Here, I know what needs to be done. “The question is why you didn’t check the cargo before you sold information to the Falcones.”
His throat works on a swallow. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Forty-eight crates of GPUs.” I close my fist around the coin. “Worth about two million retail. Missing from a warehouse you cleared out Tuesday night.”
Greasy hair flies when he shakes his head. “I just drive the truck, man. I don’t—”
“See, that’s where you’re making a mistake, Ronnie.” Vanya pushes off from the tire with a predatory smile. “You’re lying to us, which means you think we’re stupid.” He gestures around the lot. “Do we look stupid to you?”
Ronnie’s attention shifts between us. “Look, I don’t want trouble. I’ve got a family.” His voice cracks on the last word.
“Yes, you do.” I edge closer. “Your sister lives in Naperville, right? On Elm Street. She has a kid.”
Ronnie’s innocent act crumbles, and blood drains from his face. “You stay the fuck away from my family.”
“That’s entirely up to you.” I toss the coin and catch it without looking. “Tell us where the rig is, Ronnie. GPUs are traceable. You can’t unload them. This only ends one way.”
He spits. “Go to hell.”
I don’t flinch as the saliva lands inches from my boot. Instead, I shove forward until we’re chest to chest, his back trapped against the truck’s fuel tank.
“Your nephew, Jake, is a cute little boy. Drives a blue tricycle on the sidewalk. He starts kindergarten soon. Would be a shame if he never made it.” My voice drops lower. “Elm Street is well-known for distracted drivers going too fast.”
“You wouldn’t.” But his eyes confirm that he knows I would.
“Me? No. I’m right here with you.” I flash him a cold smile, and his eyes brim with horror before I even finish the threat. “But a buddy of mine lives out that way. You want me to give him a call and ask how traffic is right now?”
His resolve splinters like thin ice. “Lockup in Gary. Industrial park off Highway 12. Unit 44B. Code is 5591.” He licks his lips. “The Falcones paid me five grand just to tell them when the shipment was in transit. That’s it. I swear.”
“See?” Vanya’s smile widens, his teeth flashing white in the sunlight. “Problem solved. Easy.”
I retreat a few paces, giving Ronnie room to breathe. Relief washes over his face. He mistakenly believes our meeting is over.
Max, who’s been silent the entire time, moves with liquid speed. He grabs the heavy-duty flashlight from Ronnie’s own belt loop. With a short, brutal swing, he shatters the man’s kneecap.
A strangled gasp follows.
Ronnie collapses against the truck’s fuel tank, clutching his leg and panting in pain.
Vitaly’s eyes sparkle, like witnessing the crushing of a man’s kneecap is his favorite form of entertainment. “You could have avoided all of this if you hadn’t tried to steal from us.”
Max tosses the flashlight onto the ground next to Ronnie’s crumpled form. His face never changes expression. No anger, satisfaction, or regret. Nothing. “You should be more careful climbing down from your rig. Next time, it might be your skull that breaks.”
Ronnie quietly sobs on the ground, still clutching his mangled knee.
I crouch beside him.
“Before you think about selling us out again, remember this pain. Remember what we know about your family. Remember that we let you live, which is more mercy than the Falcones would show.” I pause so my words can sink in.
“And remember, if there is a next time, that we won’t be so generous.
You know, childhood injuries can last a lifetime.
Poor little Jake doesn’t deserve to feel the same pain. ”
With that, I grab his hand, as if to help him up. He grimaces, clinging to the support.
Instead of assisting him, though, I snap his index finger, eliciting a shriek of pain. “To remind you. In case you ever get an offer from someone else again, just look at this,” I pat the broken bone, causing it to grind inside the muscles, “and think about how much worse it can get.”
Ronnie sways, his face draining of color.
Vitaly ignores him. “We should get moving if we want to hit that lockup before the Falcones figure out we’re onto them.”
I straighten, nodding to the others. We weave through the semis until we reach the vehicles we parked at the far end of the lot. The midday sun is merciless, heat rising in waves from the asphalt. Behind us, Ronnie’s muffled sobs fade into the background hum of the highway.
“That went well.” Vanya stretches his arms above his head, cracking his knuckles. “We got what we needed, emphasized our point, and he might even heal up and be useful in the future.”
“Still a mess to clean up.” Vitaly checks his watch. “Someone will find him soon. We need to be long gone by then.”
Max says nothing, just walks silently beside us, scanning our surroundings. Always alert, always ready.
How I should strive to be. Max would never hesitate just because the person he’s questioning is exhausted. Or bubbly. Or lights up a room with her smile.
Or because he can’t stop dreaming of kissing her again.
“You didn’t have to threaten the kid.” Vitaly side-eyes me. “He would’ve broken eventually.”
“We don’t have time for eventually.” Truthfully, I want this over with so I can get back to my loft and resume interrogating Aurora. “Roman wants those GPUs back before they hit the black market.”
Vitaly snorts. “Since when do you care what Roman wants? Skipped his job last night, didn’t you?”
“Speaking of last night,” Vanya changes the subject with practiced ease, “what did you do with that girl? The witness?”
I freeze, one hand on the car door. Memories of Aurora—her defiant eyes, the trembling voice that belied her brave front, and the way the morning light kissed her cheeks as she slept on my couch—flash through my mind.
I meet Vanya’s gaze. “I questioned her. Like I said I would.”
Trevor Pulaski, who’d been hanging back while we had our little chat with Ronnie, steps forward. “Wait, witness?” His blue-gray eyes narrow. “The woman from your loft?”
I want to slap a piece of duct tape over his mouth. “Hmm?” I don’t even know why Trevor’s here. Yes, he knows what we do, but he’s not bratva himself. Whoever brought him needs a swift kick in the ass.
“This morning.” Trevor’s nose scrunches in confusion. “When I came by this morning…the girl on your couch….in the maid outfit.” His eyes widen in understanding. “Holy shit, so that’s why she was there.”
Vanya’s and Vitaly’s expressions switch from confusion to shock to anger.
Max’s jaw drops. “You kept the witness?”
I don’t back down. “She has information.”
“About what?” Vitaly bops his palm against his forehead before throwing both hands in the air. “What could a cocktail waitress possibly know that’s worth risking everything for?”
“She knew Benny.” The half-truth slides easily off my tongue. “Who he talked to. Who he met with.”
Of course, the full truth is more complicated.
More dangerous.
They can’t know that I want to keep her close so that I can try to understand the strange pull I felt from the moment I saw her and again when we kissed.
Or how I’m drawn to the way her eyes spark with intelligence and defiance even as fear radiates from her.
The way she fights even when she must know fighting’s pointless.
The way she babbles when nervous, words tumbling over each other like she can’t contain all the life inside her.
“I don’t care if she had the keys to the Vatican!” Vitaly pushes right up in my face, jabbing a finger at my chest. “You’re slipping, Lex. Skipping jobs, keeping witnesses, chasing ghosts. This shit with MJ is making you sloppy.”
The control I’ve maintained for years snaps, splintering under the weight of rage and grief. “This shit?” I grab a fistful of his shirt. “His death is shit to you?”
Vitaly holds my gaze for a moment, then glances away.
He kneads the back of his neck and huffs out a breath.
I release my grip and back away. “Look, I know the history. I know how you looked up to MJ. How you feel responsible. We all do.” He gestures to the others.
“But at some point, you have to let it go, brother.”
“Let it go?” The words taste like death in my mouth. “How can you let it go? He was your brother too. How can all of you just…forget him?”
Vanya curls a hand over my shoulder. “No one’s forgetting—”
“Bullshit!” I knock his arm away. “You’re all so eager to accept the story. To move on. To pretend nothing’s wrong.” With each word, my fury rises. “MJ was right-handed. The gun was found in his left. Does that mean anything to you?”
The parking lot falls silent. Even the distant hum of the highway seems muted. My breath comes fast and hard, blood pounding in my ears.
No one speaks.
Palpable shame hangs in the air with the summer heat.
Max studies me, eyebrows raised. If anyone is going to rat me out or put me down right here for going against Roman’s orders, it will be him.
“You were all so happy to move on.” My rage cedes to something colder, sharper. “Because it was easier that way. Well, it’s not easier for me. It’s eating me alive. I won’t let it go. And you shouldn’t either.”
Vitaly’s focus slides to the asphalt. Vanya slides his hands into his pockets, lips pressed into a thin line. Even Trevor shifts uncomfortably, though he didn’t know MJ all that well.
The quiet stretches, broken only by the distant blare of a truck horn.
“Doesn’t matter if we understand, Lex.” Max’s soft voice is devoid of emotion. “Roman gave an order.”
His simple honesty hits harder than any argument. Roman gave an order. In our world, that’s final. My position, my safety, my life, all depend on abiding by my uncle’s commands. I’ve already pushed too far.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, grateful for the distraction.
That gratitude dies once I read the notification.
Security breach. Tenth floor.
My blood turns to ice.
“Fuck.” I shove the phone back in my pocket. “I have to go.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Lex!” Vitaly’s voice rings out behind me. “Roman’s back tonight.”
I ignore him, slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine in one fluid motion. The tires squeal as I peel out of the lot while the others stare after me.
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel until my knuckles blanch. I assumed the loft was secure. That Aurora was contained. Clearly, I underestimated her intelligence and determination. Her will to survive.
The realization summons a grudging respect, even as anger claws at my chest. She escaped. Somehow, she found a way past my security.
I crack my neck. Whether I’m impressed or not, she won’t be happy when I find her.