Chapter 9
One Month Later
With a gathering of five men behind me and Lev and Dimitri flanking me, I stride across the parking lot toward the broken-down building, eyeing the line of people. A dozen men and one woman. She stands, not behind them for protection, but shoulder-to-shoulder with the one to her right. An equal, which makes her a threat—if this doesn’t play out how I want it to anyway.
“Miss Volkov.” The centremost one paces toward me, meeting me halfway, declaring himself as the leader with that action. As though he assumed I didn’t already study up on who I was meeting with.
Maxim Orlov. Low-level gangster. Head of The Snakes, a gang local to Moscow, specializing in drug dealing.
He’s avoided me for days now, insisting he’ll only continue to do business with my father, and since he’s gone now, Maxim believes that makes him a free man. He’s partly correct anyway.
Papa didn’t control this group how he should have. He allowed the Bratva to be a middle-man in their dealings of a certain illicit drug they specialize in. Being a middle-man means less profits when I want the name of their distributor. Why let The Snakes hand out what the Bratva could be ourselves? No matter how much digging I’ve done, I can’t find the name of this drug’s creator. He’s deep underground, no doubt, far away from those like me.
Maxim shifts, his anxious gaze flicking to the line of guys I have behind me. None of which have officially sworn themselves over to me, but they agreed to this job tonight, so I think I’m partially winning them over.
“Let her go. Please.”
I snap my fingers and movement behind me starts. I don’t have to turn to know one of my soldiers is retrieving my leverage from the vehicle. He marches her over to my side, placing himself on the other side.
Maxim shows every emotion he’s feeling the second his wife is positioned in front of him, her wide, terrified eyes begging him to save her. A cloth is tied around her head so she can’t talk and her hands are bound in front of her.
“You know what I want, Orlov. Just a name. Then she’s yours.”
His wife whimpers, jerking against the hold on her.
“She’s asking you to comply, Maxim,” I croon, using his first name to get onto a more personal level. “You wouldn’t allow something like business to end her life, would you?”
In truth, I have no plans to kill her, even if he doesn’t comply. It’s not her fault she’s married to a scumbag and I feel no reason to make her pay the price of his stupidity. Not that he knows this.
Maxim huffs, his anxiety shifting to a glare he thinks I’m affected by. “This is fuckin’ dirty, Volkov. Your father knew his place.”
“His place.” Hard to imagine this piece-of-shit is actually cockier than Papa, a feat I didn’t know possible. “Orlov, you’re toeing a very dangerous line. The Bratva is never second, and I’m here to remind you of that.”
Another gesture of my hand, and the soldier brings out his gun, cocking it at the woman’s temple. She whimpers again, tears streaming down her face and into the cloth we have tied around her head.
The threat is clear enough, but to ensure Maxim comprehends how serious I am, I say, “His name, or she’s dead. You have five seconds.”
His gaze darts from me to her.
“Four.”
A blink. A hard swallow.
“Three.”
He shuts his eyes.
“Two.”
Now, my own heart rate kicks up. I was so sure she’d get him to fold instantly. His hesitation tells me exactly how profitable this drug is, and the fact that he wants to retain the control.
“On—”
“Jasha Belov.”
Instantly, my soldier lowers his gun. The woman sighs. Maxim breathes in relief.
And I smile.
“Thank you. You made that harder than it needed to be.” Taking his wife myself, I hand her over. She falls into Maxim’s arms, her head into his neck. He murmurs something to her while keeping his eyes on me. “And if you haven’t figured it out,” I continue, “the Bratva no longer has need for you.”
He ushers his wife to one of his own men, who cuts her bindings and the tie around her mouth and begins to lead her to safety. Once she’s out of sight, Maxim faces me once more, his mouth in a firm snarl.
“You’re a fucking bitch, Volkov. Using a man’s wife to get your way is dirty. Your father?—”
“—is not here anymore so you’d do well to remember that. Good doing business with you.” I give him my back, gesturing my solider to walk ahead of me.
I realize my one and only mistake so far when Lev’s face flashes white, his gaze on the man behind me, his mouth opening to shout his warning. At the same time, Dimitri’s advice flits through my mind. Never give your back to your enemy. Makes you vulnerable.
The resounding click echoes over the otherwise silent lot, soon followed by a few more. Of footsteps coming closer. I slowly turn, hands up, showing him I’m playing by his rules for now.
“You’re too cocky, Vanessa,” he calls out, thinking he’s switched the game around with the use of my given name. “You didn’t let me say what I was going to. Your father understood the value in allies, and now you’ve made us an enemy.”
“Shoot me if you’re so certain that you’ll win then. You’ll probably be rewarded for taking me out.”
Keep him talking. Figure a way out of this. We’re outnumbered, and this is Orlov’s place, so I bet he has people in the surrounding buildings. If this goes to a shootout, I can’t be guaranteed we’ll win.
“What do you want? You’ve already given over the creator’s name.”
“I might have given it, but it’s not yours to keep.” A deadly glint creeps into his gaze and so many things happen at the same time.
I give a signal for Lev and Dimitri to begin retreating; for everyone to load into the two vehicles we have and take off. I got what I needed from Orlov, and unless I have more people, we’re fucked.
I take my weapon out, more for protection than anything, but it’s quickly rendered useless when Maxim pulls the trigger on his own.
“Volkov, go!” The solider by me, who I’d forgotten about, pushes me out of the way and toward the vehicles, taking the bullet himself at the precise second. It hits his side, making him stumble to the ground, clutching his wound.
“Vanessa!” I hear someone else yell as more bullets begin flying from both our side and Maxim’s. I’m halfway to the vehicle now—to safety—and turning back might very well be a suicide mission, but I do, running to the soldier who just saved me and dropping to my knees, managing to get his arm thrown over my shoulder.
“Run,” he murmurs, his voice weak.
“Not without you.” He’s heavy as fuck, almost pure muscle, but with a bit of his own waning strength mixing with my own, I manage to get him upright and we stumble toward the vehicles, keeping our heads low from the flying bullets.
We make it to the vehicle and toward the other side where Lev takes the man and helps him into the back seat, me climbing into the front. Once both doors shut, Dimitri takes off into the night.
We return to the mansion, slowing to a stop at the edge of the property before the doors to both vehicles open, soldiers pouring out as they each come to terms with their own near-deaths.
I remain inside the vehicle, even after Lev helps the injured one out with help from another in the back.
Dimitri does too, glancing at me as he shuts off the vehicle. “You okay?”
“It didn’t go as I hoped, but we got the name.”
“You did good, Van.” He glances out the window, toward the injured soldier now sitting on the grass clutching a cloth to his side. Lev stands behind him, on the phone, presumably calling the doctor we have on retainer. It seems like Dimitri is about to say more, but I get out of the vehicle to go check on my man.
I crouch in front of him, but before I can say anything, he asks, “Why’d you come back for me?”
“Why’d you save me?”
His tongue dabs at dry, cracked lips, his gaze flitting to his surrounding comrades. “You’re our Pakhan.”
A feeling of euphoria ignites inside me. “And you’re my solider. What kind of leader would I be if I left my people to die?”
“Your father,” he responds without a beat. “He has plenty of times in the past.”
My mouth parts, ready to say something similar to what I told Maxim: that I’m not my father when he speaks again.
“But you’re Vanessa, not Ursin. I see that now. You have my oaths, Pakhan, as soon as the pain stops.”
A few of the others nod their agreement and I stand, heading back to Dimitri watching nearby. He rests a hand on my shoulder, murmuring, “Told you.”
He did. And today feels like one more step in the right direction.