Chapter 34 Liev
LIEV
The suite door clicks shut behind me with a soft snick, but in the dead-of-night silence, it might as well be a gunshot.
I freeze, just inside the foyer, listening for any sign of stirring from the other rooms. Nothing.
Four in the morning, and the place is dead quiet.
The last thing I need is Keke or one of the others to stumble out and see me like this.
My knuckles throb, in a steady, dull pulse. I flex my right hand once, ignoring the fresh split skin over my knuckles. Most of the blood washed off in the sink earlier, but I still need to shower. It’s never bothered me before, but I don’t want to go back to Sera with blood under my nails.
Before I head for the bedroom, I slip the thin band back onto my left ring finger. I took it off before I got in the SUV with Mikhail, not wanting to have that confrontation when he was already testing my loyalty.
The bedroom door is cracked. Moonlight and the lights of the strip cut through the half-drawn curtains, striping the bed.
Sera’s sprawled on her back on top of the comforter, her thin tank bunched up revealing a narrow band of skin above her waist. Her phone rests in her hand on her chest like she fell asleep holding it.
Waiting up for me. My chest tightens.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I strip quietly. Dropping the jacket and pants along with the bloody shirt in a heap inside the bathroom door, I crank the shower to hot, and steam rolls out almost immediately. Stepping under the spray, I let it pound my shoulders and back, the muscles slowly unknotting.
The hot water stings my cut hands as I scrub my body, washing away blood and whatever ugliness might still linger on my skin from being near that depraved bastard.
I don’t regret anything I did to him.
The black SUV is idling at the curb outside the hotel when I exit the automatic doors. Mikhail’s already in the back as I slide in.
“Liev.” He acknowledges. “Good to see you, cousin.” There’s an odd emphasis on the word, and I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a reminder of my familial duty or thinly veiled mockery stemming from my father’s recent betrayal.
I glance to the front seat and recognize Yuri and Ivan. The bratva soldiers have worked under me before, but if things go sideways they’ll do what their pakhan tells them.
Ivan grunts a welcome, but Yuri twists around grinning. “Heard you’re playing bodyguard for models these days. Sounds rough.”
“You’d be surprised,” I say in a dry tone.
The SUV heads away from the neon lights toward the desert. Mikhail doesn’t waste time telling me what the plan for the night is.
“We are going to pay a visit to one of your father’s new friends.” He gives me a look. “I find those ‘friendships’ to be disrespectful.”
I’ll assume ‘friend’ is a euphemism for one of the people in my father’s human trafficking ring. Clearly, Mikhail’s been successful in keeping my father’s side business quiet for the most part.
“Who is it?”
He studies me. “You don’t know who his Vegas contact is?”
Ah, the actual test. Mikhail wants to see with his own eyes if this man and I have met before—if I was more involved with my father than I let on.
“No.”
He grunts, expression easing slightly. “Frank Harlan. Fronts as an air-conditioning wholesaler. Brings in women and children and sells them to private buyers. I’ve been told by another of your father’s new ‘friends’ that Harlan was aware this was a controversial friendship, but that he didn’t care if he made me angry. ”
I am extremely familiar with how Mikhail elicits that kind of information.
“Not a healthy attitude to have in business,” I say.
Or a good plan if you want to keep your blood inside your body.
“Tonight, we are going to send a message to him and everyone else that I don’t share my ‘friends’, and if others choose to ignore my wishes, they can expect the same message to be delivered to them.”
I hold in my sigh. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night, and I want to get back to Sera.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into a gated community.
Ivan hands the guards at the gate a fat envelope, and they wave us through.
The houses are far enough apart that no one will notice our car in the driveway, and the distance will also come in handy for the inevitable screaming.
With the guards paid off, we don’t have to be concerned with patrols.
Yuri cuts the wires in a panel bearing a popular security company sticker, and we’re in.
We move through the dark kitchen and up the carpeted stairs without a sound. The master bedroom door stands open. Harlan is snoring loudly in the king-size bed, his gut rising and falling beneath the sheet. A young girl—late teens at most—lies curled on the far side of the bed, half-covered.
When we step inside, her eyes snap open, wide with terror. Bruises mark her cheek and upper arms, dark and fresh against her pale skin.
“What the—” Harlan shouts when Yuri drags him from the bed by his ankle. Hauling him off the floor by the throat, he slams Harlan against the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures. The girl shrieks and pulls the sheet higher.
My gut burns. This is what my father intended for Sera.
Thank fuck she killed him.
“Ivan,” I glance toward where he is standing by the far wall. “Get her out of here. Make sure she doesn’t need medical attention. Give her cash, clothes, whatever she needs to disappear. And find out who she works for—if there are more being held with her. We may have a follow-up job, tonight.”
Ivan looks at Mikhail.
Mikhail meets my eyes, then inclines his head.
Ivan speaks to the girl quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle for a man his size.
She hesitates, eyes darting between us, but then nods and lets him help her up.
She grabs a robe from the chair, clutching it tight.
They slip out, Ivan’s arm protectively around her shoulders.
We secure Harlan to one of his dining room chairs downstairs with zip ties. Easier to drag a live body down the stairs than carry dead weight. Harlan’s face is already red, veins bulging as he struggles.
The next couple of hours pass the way they always do. The denials always come first. “You got the wrong guy, I swear! I don’t know what you’re talking about." Next comes bravado. “You can’t touch me! I know people!” Then the last-ditch effort for survival—begging and crying.
But the thought of the girl upstairs, and the knowledge this man is responsible for thousands more like her being abused, puts a little more power behind each of my blows.
When Mikhail finally gives the nod, after extracting all of the information we possibly can, I pull my gun and rid the world of at least one monster.
“Where the hell have you been?” I ask Yuri when he appears with his arms full of wine bottles.
“This guy has a kick-ass wine collection.” He looks sheepishly at Mikhail who just shakes his head. “Seemed like a waste to leave it.”
The front door shuts, and I swing my gun in that direction before recognizing Ivan returning from wherever he took the girl.
“All set?”
“Yeah. She was in a house with ten other women.” His jaw hardens. “I dumped the guys watching them in the desert. It’s what took so long.”
“Are there more locations?” Mikhail asks.
Ivan nods. “I got it out of one of them.” His lips tip. “It was actually a fun little game. Well, once the two idiots realized the prize for talking was a quick death. Then they were motivated to win. But the joke was on them. I didn’t have time for anything creative tonight.” He laughs.
Yuri shakes his head as he walks past heading for the front door. “There is something seriously wrong with you.”
Ivan shrugs, unbothered by the assessment. “Are the charges already set?”
“Charges?” I shrug on my suit jacket. It covers almost all of the blood on my white shirt.
“I told you. We’re making a statement,” Mikhail explains with a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “No one does business with my bratva or touches trade in the Southeast without my approval.”
I shake my head. “First the Senator and the boat a couple of years ago, and now a house in the middle of an expensive neighborhood… You’re getting flashy in your old age.” I tease. “You’ve been hanging out with Alex too much.”
Mikhail grunts but doesn’t disagree.
A few minutes after we’ve cleared the neighborhood, heading for the highway, a muffled boom reaches us, and I can see the orange light behind us in the rearview mirror.
“Where are the other locations? We need to hit them before they hear about this.”
“Not you,” Mikhail says firmly. “You need to get back to the hotel. We’ll handle it.”
I frown. Does he still not trust me?
Mikhail shifts in his seat, brushing down his suit jacket before giving me an oddly hurt look. “I’m not happy that I wasn’t invited to either Alex’s or your wedding. We’re family. I should have been there.”
My blood turns to ice, and my gaze darts to the men sitting in the front. Ivan doesn’t appear to be listening, but Yuri’s shoulders stiffen.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Mikhail continues. “I was naturally curious how you were spending your time during your… grief. Though you surprised me with your visit to the chapel last night.” A rare smile crosses his face. “And you think I’m spending too much time with Alex.”
I bark a surprised laugh.
“When you get back to Atlanta, things will need to change.”
Here it comes. He’s finally decided on my punishment.
Mikhail looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “I admit I was pleased with how easily you agreed to leave your new bride at my request tonight.”
I keep my face blank. It’s safest if he thinks my loyalty is to him and not my wife.
“You’ve always been a good soldier, and a loyal cousin. Now that you’re settled with a family, it’s time for you to step into a more prominent role.” He pauses. “Your father’s role.”