Chapter 5
VIKTOR
She leaves in frustration, huffing and taking a step back, before turning on her heel and running up the stairs. In that moment, I get a sense of her. I imagine her as a teenager, slamming doors and screaming at her father.
I can’t imagine Ivan Malenkov liked that very much.
In her absence, I know I have work to do. I need to make calls and plans. Taking her was impulsive, and probably a mistake, but the decision has already been made. I need to prepare myself for the fallout.
I call Sergei first. He needs to know what’s going on and what I need from him to keep the business running while I’m with Anya.
“Lock down the docks,” I tell him. “We need to confirm every shipment that’s coming in. Increase the security rotations, and double our safety checks.”
“Of course,” he answers dutifully. “Does this have anything to do with our meeting about Grinkov?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly, though I don’t give him any additional details on the situation. The less he knows at this point, the better.
He pauses briefly before answering again.
“Understood,” he says.
The next call goes to Misha, my eyes and ears on Brighton Beach.
“I want eyes on Volna,” I tell him. “In fact, I want eyes on all of the Grinkov clubs. I want to know about any activity happening there, and any comings and goings that may look like meetings.”
“You got it, boss,” he replies easily.
It isn’t his job to ask questions. His job is to gather intelligence and report back to me. I know I can trust him to do that.
Finally, I call the head of my security in Bay Ridge. I have separate security operations for each of my residences, including this one. It’s easier that way to maintain complete control.
“I need a full perimeter on the safehouse,” I tell him. “Lock down the entire block. Nobody gets in or out of this neighborhood without my knowledge.”
“You expecting company?” he asks mildly.
“Yes,” I say, leaving no room for further questions.
He’ll handle it. One thing I never have to worry about is the size of my security team. It’s one of the reasons the smaller families look to me for protection. I keep my organization well-guarded.
When I’m done coordinating the immediate next steps, I go into the control room off the main hallway downstairs. This is another feature of all of my properties. I don’t leave anything to chance.
Three monitors show the exterior angles, including the entrances to the block. Two more monitors show me the interior hallways. One shows the stairwell leading to the second floor, and another shows the third floor.
I don’t keep a camera in Anya’s bedroom, but she’s left her door open. Curious. It’s almost like she’s daring me to watch her.
I see her pacing the room. She gets up and tests the window. That’s natural. I fully expect she’ll test every perimeter in this house before the morning’s out. She opens the door to the other bedroom and tests that window as well. I almost laugh to myself. So predictable.
She paces around the entire room, seemingly scanning for something, though I can’t imagine what. When she’s satisfied that she’s explored enough of that room, she descends the stairs. I watch the monitors as she moves to the second floor, again exploring.
She goes into the room I slept in, probably thinking the security in there will be more lax.
What she doesn’t know is I chose that room at random.
Every room in this house is locked down like Fort Knox.
The windows are reinforced and bulletproof.
There’s no getting out, and certainly no getting in.
At least not without a significant amount of force.
I watch the way she moves through the space like she’s memorizing it. I finally realize that she isn’t merely looking for a way out. She’s mapping the house. She’s learning every detail. Where the floorboards creek, where the cameras have blind spots.
She’s even smarter than I initially gave her credit for, though I’m not surprised. She’s the heir of a Bratva herself. She knows what this life entails. In some ways, she’s probably been training for this exact moment her entire life. She certainly has the fighting skills to suggest that.
I lean back in the chair and let the cameras show me what I already suspected. She’s not frightened about being here. She sees this as an affront to her character.
I only take my eyes off of her when my phone vibrates on the desk. I look down to see Sergei’s face filling up the screen.
“We’ve got a problem,” he says without greeting. “Three bodies were found in Brighton Beach last night. Word is, they were Grinkov men. Shot execution-style with no witnesses.”
“What’s the chatter about it?” I ask curiously.
He sighs heavily. “Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it,” he says, sounding about twenty years older than his already advanced years.
“This isn’t a secure line,” I remind him. “And I don’t know that we can trust Grinkov doesn’t have all of Brooklyn bugged. I need you to storm the fort.”
That’s our code for when I’m in one of the safehouses. Given that I don’t know who’s listening, I can’t just tell him what happened. He’ll know how to find me and we can talk about it in person.
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and I know he’s pissed. He has every right. What I did last night was reckless, and I knew that then.
“Hold the line,” he tells me, our code that he’s on his way. Then he hangs up.
Forty-five minutes later, he’s pounding on the front door. He’s one of the few people who would get through the blockade without question.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hisses when he walks through the door. “Not that I’m questioning you,” he backs off slightly, remembering that I’m the one who signs his checks.
“Not here,” I say, leading him into the control room.
When we get inside, he takes a seat and stares at the screens.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says lowly. “You have the girl, too.”
He finds her easily on the screen, doing pushups in her room. She’s been working on her cardio for the last half hour, probably out of boredom. Then again, it could be a message to me that she’s not to be fucked with.
“What the hell happened last night?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.
I tell him everything. From seeing Anya fight in that alley, to dragging her back here against her will.
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask him seriously. “She would have run. If Mikhail had found her, he probably would have killed her.”
He nods, exhaling slowly through his nose.
“That’s probably true,” he admits. “But I don’t understand why you got involved in the first place, Viktor. This isn’t like you. Are you really willing to lose everything you’ve built over some princess?”
“If we’re lucky, Mikhail will never put two and two together,” I tell him mildly, though we both know that’s not likely.
Mikhail is going to leave no stone unturned in his quest to find out what happened last night.
His future bride is missing, but that’s just the cherry on top of the disrespect.
The slain bodies are the real offense. I took out his men with no provocation.
He’s going to escalate this to the highest order, and probably pretend that finding Anya is his real aim.
“What’s the chatter?” I ask again.
“Grinkov’s in a rage,” he says slowly.” He’s already pulled men from Sunset Park and Coney. They’re canvassing the area trying to figure out what the hell happened. They’re going to pull any and all security cameras they can find.”
“That’s predictable.” I nod. “I doubt they’ll find anything of use.”
“What if they do?” he asks. “What if they figure out it’s you and start going after our interests?”
“It’s why I told you to lock down the docks.” I shrug. “And I’ve increased security on our other assets tenfold. We’re ready if it escalates.”
“Viktor.” He sighs warily. “You could still return her. Use her as a bargaining chip to request clemency. Or, better yet, don’t tell him it was you who killed his men. Tell him you found her wandering and knew she belonged to him. Say you kept her safe, but for a price.”
I glance at the monitor again. She’s back in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for something. Food, maybe, but more likely a weapon.
“She’s not a bargaining chip,” I tell him seriously. “She’s a person with agency.”
“So kidnapping her was what? A way for you to test her agency?”
I meet his gaze and wonder how I can possibly explain this. I knew the risk. I put us in this position knowing what it could mean. Leaving her in that alley was simply not an option.
“She isn’t a bargaining chip,” I repeat, hoping the gravity of my tone will put an end to the line of questioning.
Silence settles between us. He knows better than to press me.
“Then we’d better prepare,” he finally says in resignation.
“That’s what I’ve been doing all morning,” I remind him. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“Are you sure, Viktor?” he asks carefully.
I look at the man who’s been my family’s confidante since I was a child. He was my father’s closest friend when they were young men. I trust him with my life and he trusts me not to make decisions that would hurt the business.
I simply nod in response. He nods back and gets up, leaving the house without another word.
I’m sure he’s angry with me. He’s probably questioning my sanity, which is fair.
I’m not acting in anyone’s best interest right now, and I know that.
What I need is for him to have my back anyway, and I know that he will.
I know he’s right. I should return her. If I hand her back through an intermediary, it would be a show of strength. It would be a reminder to Mikhail of what I’m capable of, and a warning not to fuck with me.
I could still step back from the edge and regain control of the situation. The thought lingers for exactly five seconds. Then it disappears.
I look at the screen and see that she’s back upstairs, practicing defensive positions. She’s certainly making the most of her captivity.
I remember the heat of her body when I restrained her, and her unflinching determination to fight back. She’s not weak. She proved that last night when she didn’t look away as I murdered her final captor. Most people don’t watch.
She’s a fighter. If she’s not fighting me, she’ll be fighting Mikhail, and I have a feeling I have a lot more patience for it. For whatever reason, I can’t allow myself to put her in that position.
I know what I’m risking here. I know that Mikhail’s hunt for her will be relentless, and it just might lead him to me.
As much as I don’t want that to happen, I will be ready for it if it does.
I get up and walk over the cabinet where I keep some of my deadliest weapons.
I inventory for a moment, letting my eyes linger over the pieces.
All of my safehouses are equipped with enough weapons to survive a major incident. I’m pleased to see that everything is well stocked. We can survive here for a long time, if need be. We can hole up and defend ourselves.
In the meantime, I put all of my men on notice.
I don’t give them any details, I just let them know Grinkov is on a tear, and we need to be ready for any eventuality.
It’s the closest I can do to getting them battle-ready without actually ringing the alarm.
I just have to have to keep the faith that this is the right thing to do.