Chapter 3 Emil
EMIL
Babysitting Lev and Misha wasn’t as terrible as I imagined it might be. After the excitement from the wedding, both boys crashed and slept well.
For the duration of that night, I was preoccupied with thinking about that agent. The short, sexy, raven-haired woman at the airports.
Then over the next few days, when I stayed in New York and helped Ivan and Raisa move their things into their new home, I was kept busy. My mind wasn’t idle, so I didn’t think back to my mystery woman who had been so obviously following me.
When all that domestic and family stuff was done, though, and I was staying over at my father’s home, the big mansion where we often all met up, the slight loneliness crept in.
It wasn’t feasible to be lonely among my family members, but because I was a bachelor, without a child like Alexsei, I was alone.
Consequently, I was annoyed and short-tempered.
Most of all, I was irritated that my thoughts kept circling back to that agent.
Why her?
Why now?
At breakfast, I rubbed my face and groaned at a lousy night of sleep.
“Don’t you ever get tired of jumping from one place to another?” my father asked as he poured another cup of rich, dark, black coffee for himself. He paired his question with a stern, yet almost dryly amused, look.
“Who says I am?” I replied as Raisa and Ivan joined us, just finished with dropping off Lev and Misha at their school.
My father chuckled. “You can’t sit still, like you can’t wait to take off again. I never realized you were this much of a wandering soul.”
I gave him a droll look right back. “It comes with the job.”
The job he gave me.
He nodded, not at all bothered by the fact that I was his prized killer.
He was proud of me, likely overly glad to have such a strong son and solid asset to the organization.
We had other assassins, but I was the most skilled.
Something in his expression suggested he wasn’t as pleased with my nomadic personality, though.
He was my father, not just a boss. Maybe since Gabriella had baby Andre, he was going a little soft, perhaps wanting me to stick around and not just focus on work.
“Yes, but sometimes there is more to life than a job,” he replied, confirming my suspicions about his shifting attitude.
More to life than working a job.
I refrained from scowling.
His comment struck a nerve.
Especially when Ivan and Raisa shared a secret smile and kissed each other on the other side of the table.
Fuck.
They were even more sickening than my father and Gabby. So in love. So settled. So… normal.
“You can say that again,” Ivan agreed. “There is much more to life than working all the time.”
“Oh, shut up, you lovebird,” I drawled jokingly. “Of course you’d say that.” I was happy for them, but come on. Did he have to rub it in?
“You seem so restless without somewhere to go,” my father said.
He was right. And wrong. The truth of the matter was that woman.
I was restless because I kept thinking about that agent.
She starred in my dreams, like a faint figment suspended between my imagination and memories.
Over the handful of times I’d noticed her, she’d stuck, her short, black hair, always so glossy and shiny, catching my attention and making me wonder if it was as soft as it looked.
Those bright blue eyes, like glittering diamonds that I couldn’t help but notice.
I didn’t know her name. No one had been tasked to look her up yet.
I just had enough of an intuition to know that she had to be a federal agent of some kind.
They all had a tell. They carried the same vibe of veiled authority and viewing the world too calculatingly.
It was almost as if a magnetic force of antagonism was projected from them to me so I could be clued in that they had to be my opponent. My adversary.
My “secret” agent was on my mind, and I was antsy and restless to see her again. I wanted to learn more about her.
And yeah, being home and around these happy couples was getting on my nerves.
“Well, do you have a new job for me?” I asked instead of remarking on what he’d said.
My father knew better than to push when I hedged answering him. He’d play the long game and wait me out until I explained myself. My father was a fierce ruler, an excellent boss, and an understanding man.
He sat up and sipped his coffee before answering. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Ivan perked up at this news of business, paying more attention to my father than his new wife.
Actually, Raisa wasn’t a new person in his life.
They’d known each other for years and had been apart for so long.
I recalled when they first dated years ago.
I supposed it wasn’t fair of me to be too judgmental if they were so deeply in love now when they finally had a chance to embrace it.
“What’s going on now?” Ivan asked.
Talk about an understatement. Now? We had no shortage of trouble and chaos. That was the way of the Mafia life. Someone would always want our power and money and someone would always stir up drama to get it.
And we’ll always have agents after us.
It was just that woman who’d captured my attention.
I shook my head, dismissing her from my head again.
“Some of the men have been picking up on some chatter from the Riveras,” my father replied.
Ivan rolled his eyes. “They’re always talking up some stupid shit or another.”
“What’s it about?” Raisa asked.
I had gotten so used to Gabriella not being present for business talk.
My father seemed to want to spare her the details.
It was a combination of her not wanting to know too much and his not wanting her to be exposed to a lot of the details of what we handled.
Gabby hadn’t been born into this life. She was an outsider still fitting in.
Raisa, however, was a Mafia princess. She'd singlehandedly killed her father, Konstantin Petrov, and that was after a lifetime of suffering under his strict rule.
My father had taken a while to get used to her being in his family, but since the wedding, it was clear that he trusted her. She was family. Therefore, he didn’t hesitate to answer her directly.
“Something about a new leader.”
“You mean there’s been infighting among the Riveras?” Ivan asked. “And someone is trying to replace Marco Rivera?”
“No.” My father shook his head. “Something more like a leader is trying to claim the role of starting a new organization or club.”
I furrowed my brow. “Like our confederation of the Bratva heads?”
We’d recently called a council meeting with them when we’d made a case for Lev to be accepted as an official Dubinin heir, as Ivan’s son, rather than a Petrov, as Konstantin’s bastard grandson.
“No,” my father replied. “Something more diverse.” He appeared troubled, pensive, like he didn’t have all the details yet. If he needed answers, he’d have more spies put to task. I’d help with the efforts too, but it seemed he had something specific in mind for me.
“Regardless of what it is, we don’t need a new organization taking form.”
Obviously not.
A group of crime families banding together would present another collective enemy for us to deal with. My father didn’t make a habit of joining with others. He ruled as a lone wolf.
“The frontrunner for this new leader is Sergei Romanoff,” he told me.
I laughed. “Weren’t you tempted to ask me to take care of him a few years ago?” I was familiar with the former commander from an Eastern European army.
He nodded. “Yes, but then he was in jail so it wasn’t as much of an issue. Now he’s out, released on parole. Even though he hasn’t directly targeted our family in years, it would be wise to eliminate him before he can cause any disturbances.”
I shrugged. It sounded simple enough. Hunting down hits was just what I was born to do. Shifting into work mode would help this weird obsession with that agent.
It was time to get to work.
“Consider it done.”
I left several minutes later and called up Simon, the main hacker and cyber spy I relied on the most. After a short call asking for what I needed to begin this hunt for Sergei Romanoff, I headed home to shower and pack the few bare essentials I would need.
By the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I had a full file on my phone.
“Prague?” I huffed an indifferent laugh.
Whatever.
Locations seldom excited me anymore.
The triumph of killing my target gave me satisfaction, but as I began my journey across the ocean again, plotting a strategy to find and get rid of Romanoff, I couldn’t shut off a nagging thought in the back of my mind.
Do they even miss me when I’m not around?
It seemed like such a stupid question. I didn’t have a low sense of self-esteem or Daddy issues. No Mommy issues either despite my mother dying when I was so young. I knew I was valued and wanted, loved and respected. My position in the Dubinin Dynasty was a solid one.
Yet, as I stared out the window as the plane carried me over the dark ocean in the middle of the night, I was once again restless.
This sensation of being the odd man out was wearing on me.
Envisioning my family, I saw them clearly.
My father with Gabriella, probably laughing at something Andre is learning to do now.
Alexsei busy with Misha, likely reading to him before bed.
Ivan and Raisa together and settling into their new residence with Lev playing in the background.
Then…
There was me.
Do they even think about me?
Are they all so set in their own families that no one notices when I’m gone?
I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes, hating that these questions and this general gunky feeling were becoming a pattern. A routine. A festering hole in my chest.
It didn’t matter if they thought about me. It never used to bother me before.
It was only since noticing that agent that I felt a pull to someone. She was a stranger. She was clearly my enemy.
But until I’d realized how acutely she was paying attention to me, I hadn’t considered how long it had been since I felt like I could be the sole object of someone’s interest.
Interest? For fuck’s sake.
That woman wasn’t interested in me.
She was tailing me and trying to reach me for the sake of bringing me in. Nothing more, nothing less, and it would serve me well to give up these thoughts about her once and for all.