Chapter 21 - Valentin
“Is this how I’ve told you I wanted the layout?” I yell at the foreman at one of our construction sites.
The poor man pales. “Sorry, boss.”
“Just fix it,” I sigh and turn away, looking out into the distance, trying to shut out the voice of the machines in the background. That proves to be a mistake, because the minute I seek silence, I find another kind of noise.
One of fear and panic from when I found Gela missing. I’m still fuming, finding it harder to concentrate after our little fight on the phone. All I ask for is to be kept informed of her whereabouts, so if anything happens, I know where to look.
I’m spiraling into mental arguments with an imaginary Gela when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket, and immediately pick up when I see it’s Gela calling.
“Hello?”
Even if I’m mad, I’ll always pick up.
“Valentin?” She sounds panicked as hell. “I need help.”
“Where are you?” Everything fades away, except for the singular fact that she’s in trouble and I’m not next to her.
“At Caffè Luna,” she whispers like she’s hiding somewhere. “I'm locked in the bathroom. I can't find Dmitri. His phone's unreachable.”
“What happened?” My heart races with fear, and I head for the elevator down, searching for my keys in my pocket.
“I…my client is working with Viktor Zakharov. I overheard them talking outside the café.” Her voice breaks, and I hear her sob. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t know.”
My vision blurs with rage. “This isn’t on you, Gela. You hear me? Tell me, do you think they’re inside the café?”
“I don’t think so,” she says weakly.
“Stay where you are. Don't open that door for anyone but me. I'm coming.”
“Please hurry.”
I sprint to my car and break every traffic law on the fifteen-minute drive downtown. On the way over, I call Dmitri three times, but it turns out, Gela’s right. His phone is unreachable.
If they've done something to him...
I begin to drive faster.
The minute I pull up to the café, I park right outside, not caring if it’s a no-parking zone. I head straight in, looking for the restrooms.
When I find the women’s bathroom, I knock softly. “Gela, it's me. Open up.”
I wait for her to open the door, and when she does, my heart sinks at the sight of her. She’s pale and has mascara running down her cheeks from the tears she’s shed.
“Oh, Gela.” I push past the door and take her in my arms. She sinks into my chest, sobbing quietly.
“I've got you.” I slide a hand down her hair, over and over again, feeling her body sag against mine. “You're safe now.”
Her fingers dig into my back as she cries. “I was so stupid, Valentin. So stupid. I truly thought Alex was a legit client.”
I pull back and cup her cheeks in my hands. “Tell me exactly what you heard.”
She tells me everything, and with each word, my rage builds. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know one thing for sure. The minute I get home and have Gela settled in, I’m going to put a stop to this madness.
“You ready to go home?” I ask softly after she’s done crying.
She takes some tissues to dab at her wet, red eyes and nods.
I put my arm around her shoulder, ready to usher her out, but she stops. “What about Dmitri? I couldn’t find him. Do you think they did something to him?”
“No,” I lie, even though I’m fearing the same thing, but I don’t want her to spiral into darker thoughts. “I'm sure he's fine, but we shouldn’t wait around any longer. I’ll send some men to find him.”
I open the bathroom door slowly and sweep an eye across the café to make sure there are no Zakharovs in sight before leading Gela out.
Just as we reach the door, Dmitri calls.
“Dmitri,” I answer, and Gela looks up with worry. “Are you alright?”
“Sir, I'm so sorry.” He sounds frantic. “Mrs. Yuri left the café and said she'd be right back, but she never returned. My phone died when I tried to call you. I've been searching the area, and I just can’t find her. Please, sir, I need help.”
I give Gela a small, comforting smile and mouth, he’s okay. “She’s with me,” I tell a very worried Dmitri. “I’ll explain later. But grab the car and head on home.”
“Oh, thank god, boss,” he sighs with relief.
I get Gela in the car, but before I drive off, I take her hand in mine.
“Hey,” I say softly, taking her hand. “Look at me.”
She does, her eyes dark and harrowed.
“We're going home now, and I want you to forget what happened today. Nothing like this will happen again, you hear me?”
She nods as she understands, but her hand still shakes in mine. I start the car and pull into traffic, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers.
“Dmitri was around,” I tell her as we drive. “He said his phone died while he was looking for you.”
“I just ran out to catch Alex,” she whimpers. “I forgot to give him the folder with projections. I thought I'd be back in seconds.”
“It's not your fault,” I say, squeezing her hand to comfort her. “You couldn't have known. It was just a bad day, overall.”
“But I should have known,” she insists, anger flashing briefly through her fear. “I'm supposed to be smarter than this, Valentin, but I let them play me like a fool.”
“The Zakharovs have been doing this for generations,” I remind her. “They're experts at manipulation. Don’t blame yourself for their sick, twisted games.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says like her mind’s not here, and simply stares out the window for the rest of the drive. When we get home, I can see the tiredness on her body, in her eyes.
I help her shuddering body out of the car, and she leans against me as I lead her in through the house, up the stairs, straight to her bedroom.
“Sit,” I tell her, easing her onto the edge of the bed. “I'll get you some tea.”
By the time I return with a steaming cup, she's changed into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She looks so small, so innocent, sitting on that big bed in a Taylor Swift t-shirt, and once again, I want to burn the men who scared the daylights out of her.
“Here,” I hand her the cup and settle down beside her. “Drink this. It'll help you relax.”
She takes it gratefully and helps herself to a long sip. I feel relieved when she takes a second one soon after.
“Thank you,” she whispers at last.
“For what?” I ask, incredulously.
“For coming to get me, even though we fought. For not saying 'I told you so.'“
I push a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would never do that.”
She rests her head against my shoulder, and I immediately reach over to take her spare hand in mine. My heart still hammers with rage, but my body wants to stay right next to hers, to keep her safe. It’s a strange feeling, this need to protect her from the world.
“I was so scared, Valentin.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “But you’re a smart woman, Gela Jones. You did the right thing calling me.”
She nods against my shoulder, sipping her tea in silence. I wait until her breathing evens out, until some color returns to her cheeks.
“You should rest,” I tell her, taking the empty cup from her hands. “I'll be back to check on you later.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, sleepily.
“I’ve just got some business to handle,” I say casually. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
She nods, yawning now.
I wait until she's settled under the covers before leaving the room. Once I'm in the hallway, I pull out my phone and call Leonid.
“Leonid, I need you,” I tell him when he picks up. “Meet me at the Zakharov warehouse we’ve been staking out in twenty minutes.”
“Valentin, what happened?”
“The Zakharovs came after Gela, and I'm done waiting. I’m going to hit them where it fucking hurts.”
“Valentin,” he tries to appease me. “We can’t just go in guns blazing without talking about this. Just tell me what happened, okay?”
“Look,” I hiss, before he can talk me out of it. “Either you’re with me, or you’re not, okay? If you are, you know where to find me.”
I end the call and don’t pick up when he calls back. I’m fuming when I rush to tell the security team to stay alert and instruct the maids to check on Gela every hour.
I’m ready to kill by the time I peel out of the driveway.
I’m so fucking sick and tired of all this Zakharov bullshit. We’ve stayed quiet too long, trying not to stoop down to their level, but enough is enough.
After tonight, they won’t dare come after Gela.
The drive to the abandoned warehouse is quick, considering my driving speed. We've been watching this particular building for weeks because it’s a storage facility the Zakharovs use for their most valuable goods.
I park a block away and go on foot, carrying a backpack with enough explosives to turn the place to rubble. Tonight, I’m going to show them what happens when they threaten what’s mine.
I'm halfway to the building when I hear footsteps behind me. I draw my gun and turn in under a second, but it's only Leonid.
“What’s in there?” he asks suspiciously, eyeing my backpack, then noting I’m not here with any men.
“Explosives.”
“Put that away,” he hisses, his eyes widening with shock.
“Go home, Leo,” I growl. “I don't need your permission.”
“No, but you need your brain.” He steps closer. “Think about this, Val. If we're the first to attack, we lose everything. The other families will turn against us.”
“I don't care,” I spit. “They came after Gela.”
“And we'll make them pay,” Leonid promises. “But not like this. A bombing could kill innocent people.”
“Since when do you care about collateral damage?”
“Since it could start a war that gets our family killed,” he snaps. “Think about Gela. What happens to her if you die in a Bratva war?”
That gives me pause. The thought of Gela alone, unprotected if something happens to me...
“There are smarter ways to hurt them that don’t involve putting a target on our backs, please,” Leonid continues, sensing my hesitation. “Please. Let’s just leave.”
I'm about to reluctantly agree when a door creaks open nearby. We both turn to see two men exit the building, both wearing jackets with the Zakharov crest.
And they’re coming right at us.
“Yuri!” one of them shouts, reaching for his weapon.
Leonid and I dive for cover as the man starts to shoot. I return fire, but I don’t have the right angle from where we are.
“We need to go!” Leonid shouts and motions at me to move back into the alley behind us, where the car is parked. I shake my head, but he motions again, providing cover.
I want to argue, but we have no time. I know Leonid won’t move until I do, so I follow the path he tells me and am almost at the car when I hear Leonid grunt in pain.
I turn to see him rushing toward me, clutching his arm, blood seeping between his fingers.
“Leo!” I rush back to him, firing at the Zakharov men to keep them pinned down.
“I'm fine,” he grits out. “It’s just a graze.”
I grab him by his good arm, and we run until we reach my car. I don’t even bother with a seatbelt before we drive as far away from that damn warehouse as we can.
Leonid presses his hand to his bleeding arm, and I try to get him home as fast as I can, constantly checking in on him.
“I’m fine,” he grins after the third time I ask. “Seriously. Stop asking.”
We drive in silence for a few minutes, both of us coming down from the adrenaline high of the shootout.
“We need a better plan,” I finally say. “Because this can’t carry on, Leonid.”
“I never said I disagree,” Leonid nods. “But you can’t do this alone, Valentin. We need to tell Trifon everything. No more lone wolf shit, Val. If I hadn’t come tonight, you could’ve been killed if they caught on to you.”
I run a hand through my hair and grit my teeth, nodding to what Leonid says. He’s right. My recklessness nearly got my brother killed today.
Leonid is right. We need to be smart about this.
“Call Trifon,” I say at last. “Tell him to meet us at mine.”