22. Lexi
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LEXI
“Another successful night,” Robyn announces, proudly counting a stack of cash.
“Did you see the clientele tonight?” Lacey chimes in.
“I didn’t notice anything weird,” I comment, focused on tidying up one of the card tables.
“We’ve been seeing a lot of Russians lately.” Lacey’s tone is dripping with sarcasm, hinting that her words carry a hidden meaning.
I raise an eyebrow. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“The Brigadier’s men have been hanging out here. That’s what’s wrong with it.”
“So, you’re pissed that he’s bringing in customers who are willing to spend their money?”
“Lacey,” Robyn hisses, their eyes locking as if they’re sharing a secret.
“What’s the problem?” I say, sighing, shoving a chair in while the cleaning crew waves goodbye and leaves.
“It’s you!” Lacey shoots back.
“What the hell am I doing?” Deep down, I already sense where this conversation is headed, and the tension in the air feels almost palpable.
Lacey’s eyes narrow, filled with determination, and I welcome the challenge. “You walk around with that brand on your throat, the Brigadier’s initial, as if you’re in some sort of relationship.” She lets her voice fade as she scrutinizes my neck.
“And what if I am?” I reply, trying to remain relaxed and in control. “Who fucking cares?”
“We’re supposed to be finding Petrov,” Lacey says, a note of tension in her voice.
“I am looking for him!” I counter. “The Brigadier is helping us.”
“Wake up, Lexi. Do you really think Valentin doesn’t know where one of his top weapons distributors is?” She shakes her head, as if she pities me. “Valentin gave the order to hurt you and Ruby.”
“No, he didn’t.” I snap, my voice broken and desperate. Valentin would never hurt me. “I know him. He didn’t know Petrov hurt us.”
I could see in his eyes that he had no clue who I was or the torment Petrov had inflicted on me. His dark gaze turned fierce and intense when he asked if Petrov had hurt me, as if the very thought of my suffering could compel him to inflict upon Petrov the very pain that had been dealt to me.
Her expression shifts as she takes a step back. “I would offer you a ride home, but clearly you don’t live with us anymore.” With that, she snatches her purse and storms out through the door.
“Wow, someone’s on her period,” I mumble under my breath.
“Just hurry and find him,” Robyn tells me as she stands up and heads toward the exit.
“I’m working on it,” I reply, frustration bubbling over. Why can’t anyone see how hard I’m trying?
She stands at the door, her gaze fixed on me as if she, too, is disappointed in me. “The Lexi we know wouldn’t submit to a man.” With a firm slam, she shuts the door behind her.
Have I lost myself along the way?
Security is the one thing I’ve always wanted. I chased it. It’s what brought me to New York.
Growing up in poverty, a meal was never guaranteed.
Our mother was often absent, wrapped up in her chaotic love life, sometimes leaving for a date and not returning until the next morning, leaving us without food.
The cabinets in our trailer were stark and empty.
As my sister grew older, she took it upon herself to ensure we always had enough money for grilled cheese sandwiches.
I vividly remember one instance when there were only two pieces of bread left.
She claimed to have eaten at the coffee shop where she worked earlier.
Desperate with hunger, I devoured the grilled cheese sandwich in what felt like two bites, not even offering her a piece.
Later that night, I caught her scraping the bottom of the peanut butter jar.
In that moment, I understood the depth of my sister’s love for me—she was willing to sacrifice her own happiness for mine.
That’s why it shattered me when I arrived in New York after our mother passed away.
I thought I was finding the same sister who gave me the last sandwich.
Instead, she turned her back on me. She ordered me to go home as if I were merely an employee responding to her command, rather than the only family she had.
Her rejection cut deep, and as a result, my love quickly transformed into resentment.
The last time I reached out to her, she didn’t even bother to answer my call. Instead, she sent her personal assassin with an envelope stuffed with cash and a first-class ticket back to Seattle. In that moment, it hit me that my sister was gone. I’m left alone in this world.
With my new identity as Lexi Summer came the opportunity for a fresh start, and I decided to embrace it. I chose to carve out my own path as a leader in organized crime, determined to remind her that we are cut from the same cloth.
I rallied a few girlfriends who also felt like outcasts, and together we formed our own squad. While we may not be as powerful or wealthy as her network, this group is my chosen family.
Now, my two closest friends are telling me I’ve lost my way, and it’s making me reconsider whether I’m making a mistake by falling in love with Valentin.
Glancing at my watch, I see it’s three o’clock. With a quick grab of my purse, I turn off the lights and walk out.
As the door clicks behind me, I step out into the refreshing embrace of the cool night air on the sidewalk. Every night since the opening, Valentin has patiently waited there for me to close. But tonight, I stand alone on a dark street, surrounded by shadows that seem to whisper threats.
I glance at my phone to reach out to him, but it’s dead.
I’m sure he’s on his way.
Without warning, a cold shiver races down my spine, and I quickly turn my head, scanning for the imminent danger that feels hauntingly real.
A black car glides down the road, strikingly similar to Valentin’s. But as it slows as it passes me, an unsettling feeling creeps in. The vehicle reveals two unfamiliar men in the front seat. Our eyes lock, my fierce glare challenging theirs as they coldly return my stare.
My heart races, instincts urging me to flee, yet my feet feel stuck, as if anchored to the ground. I feel completely exposed and vulnerable, standing here all by myself.
Valentin, where are you?
As the car drives farther down the road, I finally release the breath I’d been holding. But then, to my dismay, the car pulls over to the side and makes a U-turn.
“Fuck!” A suppressed scream rises, fighting to break free from my throat.
I grip my purse strap firmly against my shoulder and set off down the street. As I turn a corner, I cast a quick glance back and see a car following me at a distance, moving slowly. I make another turn into a dimly lit alley, my heart racing, and I’m urging my legs to run.
The engine roars as the car comes speeding toward me. Making a quick turn, I push a garbage container into the alley to block their way.
The car screeches to a stop, the men leaping out just before the wheels have ceased turning, racing after me.
They’re gaining on me, just a few feet away as I near a four-way intersection.
Desperate to escape, I take a deep breath to the bottom of my chest to push myself harder, but then an SUV screeches to a halt right in front of me.
In my panic, I stumble and fall to the ground, glancing up to see three men emerging from the vehicle, weapons drawn and ready.
My heart aches as it pounds rapidly, panic engulfing me from head to toe as I see guns aimed at me, and then a deafening bang shatters the air.
Believing the bullets are meant for me, I scream and instinctively shield my head until the chaos subsides.
Finally daring to look up, I see the two men who were pursuing me now lying motionless on the ground, drenched in blood.
Before I can comprehend what’s going on, one of the men from the SUV grabs my arm. His hold on me is strong, and I’m shoved into the SUV.
The man pushes me over in the seat, and I see Valentin in the vehicle waiting for me. I throw myself at him, tears beginning to fall. “Who was that?” I rasp, my throat tight and scratchy from all the fear and the running.
“Petrov’s men,” he replies, his grip on the gun firm.
I inhale sharply, my spine stiffening with fury. I’ve been searching for him tirelessly, while he’s been fully aware of my every move. I steady myself with a deep breath, finding my composure. “Did you know he’s in town?”
“No!” he replies, and I study his eyes, keenly looking for the truth he’s desperately trying to conceal.
My gaze locks onto Valentin, narrowing. “So, why were you late?”
Valentin falls silent for a moment, then exhales emphatically. “Working.”
He brushes his hand across his face, avoiding any eye contact with me, as if it’s possible to escape the weight of my question.
I gently close my eyes, releasing a quiet sigh.
He takes my hand, softly kissing my knuckles. “I’m sorry I was late. I got here as fast as I could.” Looking into his eyes, I see them filled with worry. Fear.
“You arrived just in time,” I tell him, my voice shaking. Something happened tonight before he picked me up.
What is he hiding?