Chapter 22
Mikhail
Surrounded by the five men I trust the most, I take my seat behind the old mahogany desk and fix my gaze on the dark wall ahead.
The tips of my fingers press deep into the sides of my skull, trying to release the desperate scream trapped inside.
Andrei, my Head of Security and third in command, is stationed at the door, muttering endlessly into his phone as he checks in with our various security teams. The Petrov brothers, Ivan and Lev, stand off to my right, eyes peeled to the computer Ilya has balanced across his lap.
On my left, Sergei stands vigil, silent as ever.
Having my makeshift family collected in my space provides a strategic advantage if Cassio creates another attack, though it does nothing to contain the clusterfuck this night has become.
Even with the back-up, I can’t prevent the infection from spreading through the raw wound in my chest—the fresh pain of manipulation, a cut I’ve never allowed myself to experience before.
Nor does it halt the echoed scream, which is still wreaking havoc in my mind.
The rough tone of my second’s voice snaps me out of my lost thoughts and back into miserable reality.
“You heard the call transcript just as clearly as I did. Cassio is playing games. If we don’t deal with her, he’ll feed her name to the lower circles of the organization.” Ivan rubs the back of his neck. “There could be a revolt!”
“We should just give her over to the men, allow them to dole out the punishment,” Lev interjects. “It will reaffirm your loyalty to the Bratva, Mikhail—”
“Enough!” I cut Lev off before he could even finish his thought, glaring daggers into my two friends’ gazes.
“My loyalty is not, and will never be, in question,” I grind out, effectively cutting off the debate. “And I will not be giving her over to the lower circles just to prove some bullshit point. I’m not killing her.”
I can’t even bear to say her name aloud.
Shocked looks of confusion pass between Andrei and the Petrov brothers.
“It’s going to take a lot of resources to keep her safe after this. I wouldn’t put it past Cassio to use her to turn us against each other,” Andrei says to me, cell phone hanging loose in his grip.
“Mikhail, this is madness. We need all of our resources at our disposal if the Mafia is preparing for an attack, and instead we’re wasting them on keeping one traitorous bitch protected?” Lev’s face twists in anger, contorting as he spits his vitriol in my direction.
“Pakhan,” I silence him, my voice deadly calm. “You address me as Pakhan, signifying your inferior place in this organization.”
The room rings silent in response to my rare show of rank.
“Pakhan,” Ivan says, hesitating briefly before walking towards me. “If you need someone else to take care of it…”
“I’ve tapped her finances,” Ilya, my tech specialist, finally pipes up, saving Ivan from my next round of wrath.
“And?”
“She is in an obscene amount of debt for her age bracket. It appears Cassio was telling the truth about that.”
I have to suck in a breath to keep my jaw from visibly vibrating alongside my throbbing pulse. I know that my men are correct.
Were it anyone else who conspired against me like this, they would be at the bottom of the Hudson by now. Not waiting intact in a holding cell downstairs.
Unfortunately, my morals don’t seem to matter much to me anymore.
I don’t see a world where I could bear harming a single curly hair on that girl’s head, betrayal or not.
I should just release her under threat and face the consequences of her potential destruction.
I’m not sure what other information she could have gotten hold of in our limited time together, but it seems she broke into the office to look for something more tonight.
I just have to hope that my idiocy doesn’t provide the Italians the opening they so badly want.
There’s just one more piece of the puzzle I need to see in order to come to terms with the circumstances.
“Ilya, access Rover 3.”
My tech specialist’s gaze jumps to mine in momentary surprise. The secret I’ve had him swear to keep for the past nine months is finally revealed, thrown out onto the table. “Of course. One moment, please.”
I’ll be able to recognize her, I tell myself. The last shred of proof I need to move on.
“What the hell is Rover 3?” Lev wonders aloud.
I can feel Ivan’s hot gaze of shock locking onto my cheek.
It’s enough to make me feel a tinge of guilt about concealing my distribution of hidden surveillance from them.
I know it won’t help our trust issues with one another, but I’m not really thinking about that right now. Desperate times, after all.
Rising from my seat, I circle the desk to perch over Ilya’s shoulder, the rest of my men following suit.
“Damn, Mikhail, you’ve been holding out on us,” Andrei mutters next to me.
Ilya sorts through the classified collection of camera footage we’ve been collecting, stopping when he reaches the file with my name on it. We all stare down at the blurry image on the computer, becoming clearer and sharper one pixel at a time.
Eventually, the door to my office comes into clear view. Ilya manipulates the time track, scrolling through the entire period of time in which Cassandra was in my apartment. He slows it down just as the shadow of a figure enters the scene.
“This was the breach,” Ilya verifies from somewhere beside me, but I can barely hear his voice.
Because it isn’t the familiar, lithe body of my Little Menace jamming a key through my door, but a large man with our Bratva’s sigil tattooed across the tan, revealed sliver of his wrist. The same brand I had received from my father’s men at just twelve years old.
The same one that decorates the wrists of every man in my organization. In this very room.
It means somehow, one of my men managed to breach my impenetrable security systems and slip into my apartment right under my nose, but I can barely process that horror right now.
Because Ilya opens a new folder, and a new image flashes across the screen. A small figure, wrapped in my blankets, fast asleep in my bed during the entire ordeal.
And suddenly all I can hear is that guttural, tortured scream, cut off with the click of a door.