Chapter Fifty
Rodion
My irritation sharpened as Pavel’s voice came through the phone. “The maid confirmed she made it home safely. But the argument might have changed everything.”
It fucking did. If chaos started there, Alessia would be caught in the middle. She was probably already stressed, wondering what move to make. I needed to make mine first.
“Have a few men follow Vincenzo.”
“Alright, boss. Should we go with Plan B?” Pavel asked.
“No, stick to the plan. Keep me updated. If anything happens to her, even the smallest thing, we won’t be speaking again.”
“Yes, boss.” He cleared his throat. “I will keep you updated.”
I cut the line and dropped the phone beside me.
The glow of the laptop caught my attention.
A photo of Alessia in a wedding gown filled the entire screen.
Wedding dresses meant nothing to me until I saw her in one.
She looked like an angel, and God help me if I didn’t want to marry her now.
Yet here I sat, running the world through a screen while an IV line fed poison disguised as medicine into my veins. A fucking joke.
Alessia got drunk, and I knew too well what a drunk Alessia was like. She talked too much, let her guard slip. It was a weakness anyone could use. I had been guilty of it once, making deals while she leaned against me, her laughter spilling secrets she never meant to give.
But that same version of her was the most dangerous. Drunk Alessia could unmake you without trying. Her whispers could cut you deeper, and her soft words were enough to drop a man to his knees.
Those nights felt distant now. All I had was her frozen face on a screen, a ghost of the woman I wanted in my hands. She was safe; my men watched every corner, but I knew she would only be safe with me.
My gaze shifted to my left hand. The needle taped to my skin, the slow drip of medication forcing patience I couldn’t afford. Doctors promised months of recovery. I didn’t have months. It was time to move.
Grandmother’s loud voice caught me, carried from the hallway.
I ignored her, eyes fixed on the laptop.
The screen held everything I needed: accounts, coded reports, camera feeds from streets most men never noticed.
Drugs were moved under false invoices, cash was washed through restaurants, and shipments were logged in numbers only I understood.
Business never slept, and neither did the enemies waiting to take it.
There was a knock on the door before it was pushed open. I lifted my head to Grandmother as she stepped inside, a phone clutched in her hand.
“You need to talk to Akim.”
She came closer, her perfume faint under the bitter scent of antiseptic that hung in the room.
My mind lingered on the name. Akim, Dmitri’s right hand.
Whatever this old woman wanted, it was not my concern.
Her staying here was Dmitri’s idea, another trick to pull me off balance while I kept the empire from bleeding out.
“What is it?” I asked. I could not dismiss her completely. She once ruled Konstantinov when Grandfather died and Father was too young to hold it. She was relentless, and the quickest way to rid her was to hear her out.
“Dmitri got into a serious mess. He could get out, but he is injured.”
My eyes narrowed before a dry laugh left me. “Good for him. Now, I am working. Get out.”
She didn’t move. “I am sure you know me too well by now. Talk to Akim and solve this, because this will put Konstantinov in a tight spot.”
I snatched the phone from her hand and pressed it to my ear. “What happened?”
Akim’s voice came through at once. “Boss, there has been a setup.”
“What kind of setup? And why am I only hearing about this now? What was the fucking business and where?”
“It was a gold deal from Cuba.”
“Gold Deal?” My grip on the phone tightened, and my eyes cut to Grandmother. She was involved in this. It had been her idea to push a jewelry business as a side operation in Florida. “Deals I don’t fucking know about?”
“Dmitri—”
“Send me the full details. Every hand that touched this and their pockets. Do you realise you left the business wide open? And you didn’t call me?”
“I’m sorry, boss.”
I ended the call and tossed the phone aside. My gaze locked on Grandmother. “Gold?”
She held her ground, grabbing the phone. “You blocked him from the family business. You know Dmitri itches to work, so he was trying a different business.”
I scoffed. “I must be a fool to you. You think I’m not aware of your hand in the jewelry business?”
Her chest rose as she drew a slow breath. “Don’t lecture me. Now, did you ask how he got injured?”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I care because if you don’t find who set a bomb in his car, I will. Even if I have to die.” Her voice didn’t shake. She turned and left me with the weight of her words hanging in the air.
A bomb?
The thought burned as I snatched the phone again and called Akim. He picked up on the first ring. “How was he captured?”
“There was a bomb in his car, which he wasn’t aware of.”
My jaw locked. That was their play? They were so desperate to strap explosives to a car to draw him out?
“You must have had a clue with this. Who was he working with? Who was involved?”
“I have forwarded the details to your email. One of them is a politician. He had a hand in it.”
“Why was he working with politicians?”
“It was a clean deal, sir.”
“Clean?” Heat surged through my chest. “A clean deal does not end with a man in chains. Do you think I am that stupid?”
“I’m sorry, boss.”
“What’s his status?”
“Head injury. They are keeping him locked in a warehouse. I can’t access the cameras inside.”
I dragged a hand across my face. This was bad, worse than it sounded. One wrong move and the police would close in.
“Move anything necessary to the safe house,” I ordered Akim. “No one comes out until I say so. Am I clear?”
“Yes, boss.”
The call ended. I needed every detail about the political ties between Cuba and Miami—names, affiliations, and the money trails. But I couldn’t trust Akim to handle the groundwork there. His face was well-known. So, I had to bring someone else on board.
I rang Roman, and he answered on the fourth ring, his voice dragging. “Brother… oh sorry, Boss?”
Asshole. “I want you in Florida immediately.”
The silence stretched before he finally asked, “Why am I getting these orders?”
“Get your brother out of whoever’s hands he put himself in.”
He scoffed. “And why would I do that to your favourite brother?”
“That’s an order,” I snapped. “And you take it seriously. Get on your flight and go to Florida.”
Anything could happen to men like us. But captured? That was surrender.
I focused on the laptop, scanning through the files Akim had pushed into my inbox. There were numbers, coded memos, names of men who already owed me more than their lives. At the bottom of the stack, a video file waited.
The footage loaded where Dmitri appeared, walking across a cracked parking lot toward his black sedan. His gait was careless, a man who thought the world could never touch him. He reached for the handle, and the moment the door cracked open, the car exploded.
The blast threw Dmitri off his feet. His body slammed against another car, smoke and dust swallowing him.
People sprinted in every direction. Within minutes, the parking lot emptied just as a black van rolled in. Three men in masks stepped out. They moved without hesitation, pulled Dmitri’s limp body off the ground, and dragged him into their vehicle.
The feed ended there. I leaned back, blood rushing. This was long planned. The van had no plates, and too many eyes were already on him. Dmitri had been marked long before he touched that car.
I opened another file, scrolling through the names of the men tied to his deals.
One politician stood out, and the other two were scrap merchants in Cuba and Florida.
They were too small and broke to pull something this heavy.
I knew Florida better than most of them.
I had run every corner of it, laundering cash through ports and casinos, pulling men into my payroll with debts they could never pay back.
So it didn’t surprise me when I saw the name Maverick Blackwood, a winery owner.
The pretentious bastard who thought his imported bottles and polished image made him untouchable.
He wasn’t a man. He was too proud to know his place.
And he dared to step into the Konstantinov business.
That was where he fucked up. He could run ten steps ahead, but he didn’t know the face behind the man he had in his hands. And if he did, then he had grown a pair of balls too big for his body.
The list told me what I needed to know. Dmitri wasn’t in Florida.
He was dragged to Cuba. The politician involved was a minister of transport, a man who could shift goods across borders without a second glance.
It was easier to bury Dmitri in Cuba, where laws bent like paper.
The third man on the list was new to me, but having Maverick tied in was enough. My first move had its target.
I forwarded the information to Roman. As a Konstantinov, he knew how to handle names and blood ties. As soon as the file was sent, my phone rang.
I answered without hesitation. “What?”
A faint sob bled through the line, catching me off guard. I checked my phone screen. It was an unregistered number. A woman’s voice broke through.
“I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have called you, but it’s about Alessia.”
Alessia. Her name alone demanded attention. I checked my watch. It was three in the afternoon here, which meant it was a few minutes to midnight in Italy. Pavel had reported on her safety. She should be asleep.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She argued with Vincenzo earlier. When she returned home, she started drinking again.”
A soft groan slipped through the line. Alessia. My gut clenched. “Give her the phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Muffled voices followed, fabric brushing, before her slurred voice spilled through. “I’m stupid. Right, Savina? Vincenzo was hurt and angry and… God, I shouldn’t have drunk. Why are you giving me the phone?”
“Take it.” The maid urged.
“I’m scared of what he will do. He will tell his father and then… I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. Can I have one more glass?”
“Someone wants to talk to you.”
“Is it Leonid?” Alessia’s voice grew clearer, closer. “I can explain. I didn’t know—”
“Little Gem.” The line went silent for a moment. I could imagine her face. She was afraid. Her voice told me enough. “Why are you drunk?”
“You called me Little Gem,” she whispered. “Hi. I’m losing it. Rodion?”
“Hey.”
“Oh shit.” There was a shuffle and some movements before the sound of the door closing echoed in the background. “Rodion?”
“Little Gem.” An uninvited smile tugged at my lips. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.” She sniffled, the lie breaking in her throat. “I’m not crying. I got home and, well, the wine is good here, and I overdrank. You know what, I must be dreaming.”
“Why are you crying?” I pressed.
She breathed loud enough for me to hear. “I… because I’m pathetic. Wait, it’s you, right? I am not losing it. Okay, fine, I am drunk. But you just called me Little Gem. Wait, I’m talking too much.”
“And I am listening.”
“I messed up today,” she admitted, her words tumbling fast. “And it might mess up my plan. So I’m worried, that’s all.”
“You told me to trust you.” My gaze shifted to the drawer where her letter was.
“Yes. You saw the letter?” Her voice rose with sudden excitement.
“I’m so mad at you.”
She groaned through the line, her voice soft around the edges. “But you needed the transplant immediately. That was the only way.”
My jaw locked. It irritated me to admit she was right. If Matvet had to find another donor, I would have been stuck in that damn hospital longer, risking everything I had built. Enemies could’ve crept closer.
“Are you in bed?”
“No. I came to the bathroom. If they hear me talking to you, they’ll tell Leonid.”
“Go to bed.”
“Okay.” A muted clatter echoed through the phone, followed by her quiet curse, and I smiled despite myself. I could picture her moving clumsily. A door creaked open, then shut again, and she kept talking as though afraid the silence would break the spell.
“I’m happy I’m talking to you. I just hope this is not a dream. Do you dream? Of course you do. Guess what, there is this maid who got me a necklace with a little gemstone pendant.”
Of course she did.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Today we went out with this aunt… she is so bossy.” Her words dropped into a whisper, like she was telling me a secret. “Oh my God, did you see Artur? Matvet was mad at me, but I hope he brought you the dog. Everyone is mad at me. Are you mad at me?”
“You have no idea.”
“That’s not fair.” She fell quiet, and I let it hang. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. The chaos in my head eased under the weight of her voice. It was only her and her endless words, her soft giggles, her drunk sweetness spilling through the line. “How is the wound?” she asked.
“It’s healing.” I reached out and tapped the laptop screen, her photo opening again. She was there in the wedding gown.
“I’m glad. Dorothy said after the transplant, you must take a long rest. But you are stubborn, you barely sleep or even rest. So you better be doing that.”
“Is that an order?”
She chuckled softly, the sound warm and drowsy. “It’s an order, and you better obey it.” She was easy to make me surrender. “Rodion, I miss you.” My jaw tightened, eyes locking on her face. “Do you miss me?”
So fucking much. “I do.”
“Cute, so we miss each other.” Her giggle floated like a small bell, and she couldn’t have been more dangerous or more beautiful. “I love you.”
The words slipped through the speaker and into me like heat settling deep inside my chest. What the fuck was that feeling? They were just words. And why the fuck did she whisper them like that?
“Do you love me?”
A low chuckle slid out of me, but the smile died as soon as the words came. “Yes, my love.”
“Okay.” Her voice dipped. “That will make me sleep in peace. Rodion?”
“Baby?”
“Don’t hang up.”
“I’m here.”
“Okay.”
She exhaled, and the quiet stretched between us, full of all the things neither of us would name.
I let the phone rest against my ear, eyes still on her image as I pictured her curled up on her bed.
Her drunken breathing came through the line like she was pressed against my chest. It softened, then turned into the smallest snore, a ghost of sound brushing my ear.
She had fallen asleep. And like a fool, I sat there, listening to her sleep. Deep down, I knew the healing could wait; now I had to move. I needed my Little Gem.