Chapter One
Peter
Six Months Earlier
I’d tried to come up with a million different reasons why Ivan didn’t need to meet with me. Even though shit had seriously hit the fan, Ivan asking for me personally, and alone, was never good. The secret location also wasn’t good. So far, I’d made it out into the middle of fucking nowhere. My soldiers hadn’t been allowed to join me.
There wasn’t even a chance for me to write a goodbye note. I didn’t know if this was Ivan going off the deep end and killing his Brigadiers. My loyalty was without question. In the last few years, he did have a change of heart. At one point I was engaged to a horrible heiress slut, who I couldn’t stand. It wasn’t long after a meal with Slavik and his wife Aurora that all engagement and ties changed. This was a relief to me.
I couldn’t stand the wife that had been chosen for me. She was a giant slut, which wasn’t the problem. No, it was her nastiness and deep-seated evilness. I did happen to understand her, but I didn’t like her. Fucking her had been easy. Sex always was, even if I didn’t like the woman. Whenever Ivan needed information and it came from a woman, I was more than happy to provide. Sex was the easy part in helping Ivan become number one.
I’d do anything for that man. There was no limit, because I knew Ivan was a great man. Someone worthy of dying for.
The fog didn’t help the horror about to unfold. It was no secret to me and Victor that Ivan was marrying off his Brigadiers. First Slavik, then Andrei, and the last one to fall was Ive.
There was only Victor and myself left. For the sixth Brigadier, the title was up for grabs with two people known as The Butcher and The Beast. You’d think it was two men, but Ivan had surprised me by revealing The Butcher was indeed a woman. I still didn’t know her name, but I had seen her. The Beast, a man, also lived up to his reputation. Either one would prove to be one hell of a Brigadier, but I had no idea who Ivan would crown the victor.
Bringing my car to a stop, I already saw Ivan up ahead, standing at a gate overlooking the city.
He always liked the dramatics. Ivan considered himself an expert scene setter. He knew exactly how he liked things to play out. So far, I don’t think anything had gone against his plan.
Again, the man knew what he was doing. Nothing had failed him, which was why the Volkov Bratva hadn’t been torn apart. There were many times we could have crumbled, and Ivan kept it together. Even during that time when I thought he was dead. That seemed like a lifetime ago, but was probably only a few years, possibly more. So much shit had happened.
Ivan had known it was coming. No one could be in power for long without someone trying to take it away. I didn’t know if Slavik, Andrei, Ive, and Victor remembered our warnings. That the job of a Brigadier wouldn’t come without a steep cost.
Either way, I remembered, which is why I haven’t given up. I wouldn’t.
Parking the car, I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the car. Buttoning up the two buttons of my jacket, I moved to step beside Ivan, overlooking the city.
For several seconds he didn’t say a word. Together, we stood in perfect silence. There was no reason to draw too much attention. I had a horrible feeling about what will happen, and I’d rather wait for it.
Marriage wasn’t something I cared for.
“You know, many years ago I used to think the fog that encompassed the city was some kind of supernatural warning. A call to a warriors’ fight.” Ivan turned toward me. “I was five years old. It was what made that fear worthy. Something out there was bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.”
I didn’t know Ivan at five years old. I’d heard rumors about him. Again, I didn’t know the truth, and the last thing I wanted to do was speculate. All I knew was Ivan was rejected by his father, cast aside, and should have been killed.
Ivan was invincible. I believed that now more than ever. Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing and no one.
“Nothing to say?” Ivan asked.
“Never thought of the fog. Didn’t really get the chance to see it growing up. Now, I know what it is.”
Ivan nodded. “You took your time getting here.”
“You asked me to come alone, and with the threats rising, my soldiers don’t take too kindly to the thought of my untimely passing.”
“They’re going to need to get used to it. I need you to do something for me. There’s a woman—”
There it was. A job. A woman.
I should have known.
“Shouldn’t you use Victor? Or either The Beast or The Butcher? Aren’t they eating out of your pocket?”
Ivan threw back his head and laughed. “It is good you think I could get them to eat out of my pocket, but trust me, you’re very wrong.”
I doubted that. If anyone could get either or both The Beast and The Butcher, it would be Ivan. So far, keeping them both in the same place for a long time had been trying. Ivan had succeeded.
“This situation requires a delicate hand.”
Now I nearly fell over myself laughing. There is no way I’d been described as having a delicate hand. Far from it. I was the one who could cause utter destruction.
“I need you to go to a small town, Pickle Quest. There you will find a woman going by the name of Niamh Long,” Ivan said.
He opened his jacket and presented me with a file. Taking it meant I agreed to what was about to happen. Pickle Quest—I’d never even fucking heard of the town. Flicking open the file, I stared at a single picture of a woman. At first, I didn’t care to look at it. She looked fucking bland and boring, but then I noticed something else. This picture wasn’t taken when the woman was looking her best.
She had a split lip, blackening around the eye, and there even appeared to be sign of a cut disappearing into the hairline. What struck me hard was the look in the woman’s eyes. She’d taken a beating, but it hadn’t hit her soul. There was fire in her eyes. A desire to fight back. To get the hell away from what was hurting her.
“Who is this woman?” Peter asked.
“I told you, Niamh Long.”
“And you expect me to believe you’re interested in helping a total stranger?”
Ivan chuckled. “You’re right. This needs to have a delicate handle. Niamh is her actual name, but her last name is different. You might have heard of a Byrne.”
And then it all came clicking into place.
“This is Finn Byrne’s daughter.”
“If you want to get technical, she’s his bastard daughter. Slept with a few whores during his time. It would seem he got his favorite pregnant, and, well, Niamh, is the subject of that … union.”
“Someone know who she is?” I asked.
“Oh, that handiwork was done by her father,” Ivan said.
This made me look up from the picture. Now I was a little taken aback. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never met Finn personally, but rumor suggested he was very much devoted to family. Even if she wasn’t born in wedlock, Finn had a lot of kids like that.
“You want me to infiltrate the Irish mob?” I asked. This might be a little hard for me to do.
I understood delicate. I also knew I had a way of going from place to place without being detected. Going into the Irish mob would be more difficult, and possibly even be a guaranteed death sentence.
There was no doubt about it. Not that I minded. If Ivan needed something, he wouldn’t choose death unless he didn’t have a choice.
“No, Niamh has run away.”
Now this did surprise me.
“For the past year, she has evaded her father, as well as many other … possible problems he might have. It’s simple, Niamh is in Pickle Quest. You need to go and get her.”
“What kind of fucked-up name is Pickle Quest?” This had to be some kind of joke.
“They’re famous for their pickles,” Ivan said. “Trust me, they are delicious. Back on point, I need you to go, locate Niamh, and make her fall in love with you.”
This wasn’t the kind of mission I thought he would have in mind. Far from it.
“Is this a joke?”
“You’d know if I was joking.”
Thinking about it, Ivan was his usual self. There was no playfulness to him, no underlying mischief. Ivan usually found fun and humor in most things, but whatever it was about Niamh, he was not playing around.
I closed the file and looked at Ivan.
“What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Plain and simply put, you need to put a baby inside her, marry her, and bring her back here, before she figures out it’s all a lie,” Ivan said. “For now, Finn is not preoccupied with finding his daughter. There will come a time when he realizes that mistake. Until then, we’re going to fix it.”
I glanced down at the closed file and then handed it back to Ivan. I already had all the information I needed.
“Get her pregnant?”
“Yes, I think it is safe to assume that if you succeed at this, Niamh Byrne will become your wife.”
Ivan didn’t say anything more and was about to head to his car.
“Do you not want Victor to do this? He is next in line.”
I didn’t know if Ivan’s laughter was designed to freak me the fuck out, or to be genuine humor.
“Next in line?”
“For you to marry off,” I said.
“There’s no order, Peter. Besides, Victor is already busy, and it is you I need help with. You’re the only one who will be able to lie to her without having a single care in the world, because I asked you to.”
“What about my territory?” I asked.
“I have already taken care of it.”
I was tempted to ask him if this was his way of getting me out of the picture, but I also didn’t want to know.
Ivan had his reasons.
Finn Byrne was a dangerous man. I didn’t even know the son of a bitch had a daughter. The very thought of a woman born to that man was a terrifying thought, and not one I relished.
There was no way this Niamh Byrne, or Long, or whatever the fuck her name was, would be a good woman.
I saw danger and I didn’t know why Ivan was playing this game. This woman was pure trouble, and it wasn’t going to end well, not at all. Not for any of us. I didn’t like this. I couldn’t stand it.
Running a hand down my face, I watch as Ivan winked at me. Gone was the serious man, even though he always lurked beneath.
“You better get started. There’s an email with all the details you’re going to need,” Ivan said. “Time is of the essence.”
I didn’t like this and part of me knew Ivan was doing this to fuck with me. I didn’t know why.
Whoever this Niamh Byrne was, her life was about to be fucking ruined.
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