Chapter 30
THIRTY
I t’s been two weeks since Prescott and his men raided Genovese’s fight night. Fourteen days since I last spoke to Alvaro. Three hundred and thirty six hours since he put an end to everything between us except the imminent war on the horizon. I should be grateful that Bonanno cut things off. It means I can focus on the Federovs, but I can’t find it in me to feel anything but sadness. A shadowy veil has cloaked me in lamenting anguish, and all I want is to crawl into a hole.
I’ve done everything I can to distract myself; drowning my senses in every way I can, from booze to brutality, but even as I sit nursing my drink, I feel the emptiness fester away. Everything I see, I’m reminded of him. Every time I step foot inside Amadeus or Mosaique, memories of him resurface. I wouldn’t say it’s heartbreak, but there’s a haunting melancholy enveloping me like a blanket and I can’t shake it off.
“Come on man,” Kai huffs, nudging me with his shoulder and slowly drawing me out of my spiral. “You’re acting like a lost puppy.”
I turn my head, a sound that is close to a growl and a sneer escapes me. I hate it when he tries to play off my mood, because I can’t find it in me to filter out my irritation.
“Milo,” he groans. “Just talk to him!”
“I can’t!” I snap
He rolls his eyes. “Why not?”
My eyes drift to my glass cradled in my hand. I don’t tell him what I really want to; that I fucked up massively, and no amount of grovelling will gain me an ounce of his forgiveness.
I know better than to push Alvaro to see me, or to ask for just a second of his time. I’ve spent the better part of the past two weeks trying to figure out how I can redeem myself and the truth is, there’s nothing I can do.
I swallow back the rest of my drink, just as Nadia puts a fresh glass of vodka down in front of me, the ice clinking against the sides. “ Spasibo ,” I mutter, lifting my glass to my lips.
“ You can thank me in other ways if you like,” she purrs.
I lift my eyes to her, a brow raised at the blatant audacity of the woman I’ve rejected more times than I can count on my fingers. She still hasn’t got the hint, even with my current mood.
“ Milo needs cheering up,” Malakai comments. “ Not to be disappointed.”
“Idi na khuy !” she snaps at him before spinning around on her heels. Her hair whips side to side with each sway of her hips, like she’s trying to make a statement. But we all know it has little effect on us.
“That was a little mean, don’t you think?” I cast him a pointed look of disapproval. As much as I dislike Nadia, she doesn’t deserve half the shit Kai gives her. But then again, the guy is constantly in a bad mood—much like a certain Italian—so it’s no surprise that everyone he talks to receives the brunt of his simmering anger.
“I don’t like her,” he mutters as he rests his lips against his beer bottle.
“No shit,” I snort.
He glares back at me through the darkest eyes. “And I don’t trust her.”
“Well…you don’t need to, but at least give her a little respect.”
I tip my drink glass at a passing waitress, her sleek brown hair swishing over her shoulder as she winks at us. The irony of my statement isn’t lost on me. The very reason everyone works here isn’t to gain respect but to leave the patrons happy, especially the VIPs that spend the big bucks in the back rooms.
My eyes scan through the crowds, the people filling the room as we sit in our booth, the employees weaving through them. Everyone is on a mission—much like us—to serve a purpose. To serve the Federovs.
“Where was the respect when she fucked me over?” he snarls. There’s a whole lot of weight to his words there. A few years ago, he was dating some girl who worked here called Kira. Unfortunately, that kind of relationship is frowned upon when it comes to the Federovs, and they made sure that Kai knew as much.
Kira disappeared shortly after their relationship was exposed, and he blames Nadia for that. She was good friends with Kira, so it’s a kick in the teeth for Kai every time he sees her. Sometimes I forget that my second has so many chips on his shoulder. He holds himself high—when he’s not getting high —so it’s rare that I see this side of him.
“I’m sorry, Bratan. ” I offer him a comforting smile, one that I don’t quite feel because I’m still swimming in my own problems.
“Don’t bother,” he grumbles. “It’s done now. And Vadim is set to restructure this whole place.”
I snap my head in his direction, fear setting in my bones by the meaning underscoring his words. “What do you mean ‘restructure’?”
“You really want me to elaborate?” He lifts a brow in question.
A frigid chill slithers up my spine. We all know the Federovs are capable of so much, and when it comes to ‘restructuring’, I know exactly what is happening. Vadim hasn’t purged his ‘assets’, as he likes to call them, in quite some time. A sense of unease washes over me because I know what that means for everyone here, my second included.
Purging is something Vadim used to do years ago. It was a way of making someone disappear, and to him, it was as easy as turning off a lightswitch. He won’t hesitate to remove you permanently. The Federovs would happily throw us all into the Hudson with rocks tied to our ankles if we so much as breathed the wrong way, and with their resources, nobody would bat an eye.
“He’s cleaning house,” Kai adds with venom in his tone, gesturing to the room.
I follow with my eyes, doing a double take. Now that I’ve taken another look, I don’t recognize many of the staff here. The Federovs rarely hire new people, and if they do, I’m one of the first to know about it. Kai is right; Vadim is cleaning out Amadeus. The girls that rarely worked the back rooms are nowhere to be seen, and I can hazard a guess why.
“ Yebat! ” I sigh. “You think she’s being pulled into this?”
He shrugs, simmering rage evident in his features. I know him well enough to recognize when he’s holding shit in, but I’m the last person to judge him on that. Huffing beside me, he takes another swig from his bottle. “I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. Vadim must be keeping a close eye on her.”
I really feel for Kai. His family fell under the Federovs’ command before he could even hold a gun. There are a lot of demons hidden in the depths of his dark eyes, some I know about, others I’m scared to ask about. It makes me realize just how much the Federovs have taken from him. For most, we just get on with it. We accept our fate and the mold we’re shaped into, but for Kai, I see it in his eyes every time he thinks I’m not watching. Inside, he’s fighting a war he has no idea how to win, and I wish I could give him the tools to conquer.
Carefully, I sip my vodka, watching Kai as he keeps his eyes trained on everyone in the room, like he’s searching for someone in particular. He quietly observes, cataloging everything until he seems satisfied that whoever he’s looking for isn’t here.
I don’t ask him what I truly want to—deep down, I already know the answer. He’s been working through his own issues, dealing with his feelings towards the Federovs for as long as I’ve known him. The fact that he knows what’s going on only worries me more, because I know that this will impact him further. All the staff here are vetted by Vadim in one way or another—less than favorable ways—which means that the very person he’s desperately seeking is under the hand of the very man he so clearly despises.
I wish I could impart some wisdom, or even the slightest bit of reassurance that everything will be okay. But I know how futile it’ll be in the grand scheme of things. He’s already set in his ways—with a good reason to be—and until he sees evidence to calm his emotions, nothing I say will help.
“Wanna talk about Bonanno?” he asks, finally tearing his focus away from the room.
My eyes widen slightly, but he offers me a knowing smirk. He’s one of the few people I have time for, one I consider that I can trust with certain things, but I’m still wary about how much I can tell Kai about my situation.
“It’s complicated,” I grumble, sipping from my glass. I let the icy vodka slip down my throat, ignoring the slight burn it leaves in its wake.
“Uncomplicate it for me,” he replies simply.
Taking a heavy breath, I take a large gulp of vodka for courage before speaking. “I fucked up, and he doesn’t want to see or speak to me.”
I earn another raised brow, this time followed with a pointed look that tells me I’ve only complicated things myself.
Shifting himself on his seat, he turns to face me, resting his beer on the table next to us. “Let me ask you something.”
I nod, waiting for his question.
“Since when have you followed the orders of the fucking Italians?”
His words take me aback, something akin to shock and realization hitting me at full force and giving me pause to think. Since I met Alvaro, there’s always been a charged energy between us. Where he’s fought it like a moth battling a flame, obviously attracted to the heat and sparks, I’m the one who dove in, refusing to shy away from the promising burn. Kai is right, I’ve never followed orders from the Italians, and I’m not about to start.
“All I’m saying, is if he won’t listen to you… make him.”
“Make him, huh?” The guy could easily put a bullet between my eyes before granting me a minute of his time, but what Kai says sits heavily with me. My loyalty should be to the Federovs, but my heart is chasing after something else. I’ve enjoyed getting lost in the moments I’ve spent with Varo—no matter how fleeting they are—and I want more. The only obstacle I’m facing is the secrets that are preventing me from opening up to him. But I know if I’m going to make things right, I need to knock a few bricks down from the wall I’ve kept around my deceit.
“It’s worth a shot,” Kai shrugs. “Literally.”
Rolling my eyes, I push up from the booth and neck the rest of my drink. The cool liquid glides seamlessly down my throat, but offers me both the warmth and strength to do what I should have done two weeks ago.