Chapter 22
Dmitri
“Phones are down,” Isaak says. “Cameras are looped.”
In that case, I slam my foot against the closed door of the exclusive poker room, knocking over one of the Albanian men standing guard inside.
“Don’t fucking move!” Andrei shouts into the room as a group of our men rush inside with their guns drawn, while another group heads down the hallway to check all the other rooms in the building for any sign of Cara.
Screams of surprise fill the room as wealthy men and women cower at the poker table. Cigar smoke curls into the air, accompanied by the smell of strong perfume and expensive liquor.
Isaak slams the barrel of his handgun against the back of an Albanian guard’s head, knocking him out cold and letting him flop onto the ground. He points his gun at another Albanian nearby. “Put your fucking hands up.”
I glance behind me at one of the few men still willing to follow me. “Stay out in the hallway. Make sure none of the other guests in this establishment get too nosy. We won’t be here long.”
“Yes, sir,” he says with a nod.
Andrei looks over at me, uncertainty glinting in his eyes. “Let’s see if the Irishman’s lead is any good or not.”
“At least it actually led to a poker room,” I reply before heading inside, my eyes sweeping over cowering guests and Albanians held at gunpoint. I don’t miss the few escorts in short dresses holding each other in the corner of the room.
But there’s no sign of Cara. It was a long shot expecting her to be in a place of business around so many people, but part of me hoped that she would be here for some reason.
“So, which one of you is Erjon?” Andrei asks.
No one answers.
I give them one last second. “Erjon.”
Silence. They need more encouragement.
I shoot the nearest one in the thigh.
He cries out in pain and drops to the ground, grabbing at his thigh as blood stains his slacks.
“Which one of you is Erjon?” I question him as I stalk over to him, pointing my gun at his forehead. I’m not fucking around tonight.
The man shakes his head. “He’s not here tonight!”
I look over my shoulder at Andrei, who narrows his eyes and shakes his head. He probably thinks that Sean lied to me, but someone has to know something.
“Grab this one. We’re leaving,” I tell my men and Andrei’s men. “Follow us and die.”
“What? No! Stop!” the wounded Albanian shouts as our men grab him and haul him off the floor, his blood staining the expensive carpet.
Andrei steals the cigar from one of the older men playing at the table and takes a puff. “Sorry your game got cut short. Might want to cash out and head home.”
I roll my eyes and head out of the poker room, flanked by some of my men as they keep the nearby Albanians in check with their guns. If they’re smart, they won’t try to stop us on our way out. We have more men and firepower right now.
“Tell the others to wrap it up and leave,” I say to Mark as we step out of the poker room.
“On it,” Mark replies before taking off in the other direction.
“Let’s go! Hurry up!” I shout at everyone else as we rush down the hallway toward the stairwell that’ll lead us to the back entrance of the building that hosts exclusive gaming rooms for the rich.
If the Albanians keep expanding, they’ll become another problem, but one for after I get Cara back.
I take the stairs two at a time until I burst through the back door just as our men toss the Albanian into the back of a white van. “Take him to the antique shop. Step on it.”
Andrei catches up to me before climbing into the backseat of a black SUV with me, the sweet, smoky smell of that cigar lingering on his clothes. “Of course, the big boss isn’t there. It still feels like something’s off about all of this,” he mutters.
“We still need to check and see if the Albanians know anything about Cara or her kidnapping,” I remind him with a firm look. “There are too many suspects on our list. We need to start crossing some off.”
Andrei exhales slowly and nods. “Did the search team find anything in the rest of the building?”
I check my phone as a few new messages come in, my shoulders sinking as I shake my head. “Nothing. No sign of her. No clothes. Nothing. She probably was never there.”
“It would’ve been too risky to bring her to a place like that,” Andrei replies. “But maybe the Albanians have heard whispers about something.”
I give him a subtle nod, my hope dwindling. Not that I’ve had much to begin with. This whole situation is a nightmare, but I’m not stopping until my last damn breath to save Cara from it.
Once the SUV rolls up into the back parking lot behind the antique shop, the van holding the Albanian has already come and gone. Our men work quickly.
Andrei and I head inside, immediately hearing shouts and groans from the back where hostages are usually held. We stride down the hallway and into the back room where the man is already tied up, blood already forming a pool beneath him from the wound in his leg.
“You bastards!” he spits at us as he thrashes around, trying to break the hold of the ropes around his wrists and ankles.
“If you answer some questions, I won’t let you bleed out tonight,” I say as I walk toward him with Andrei.
Andrei pulls a knife out from his back pocket and waves it around at him. “Refuse and I’ll start taking pieces.”
The Albanian stiffens, his eyes watching the knife carefully as his reflection in the blade blinks back at him. “What the fuck do you want? Why the hell are you doing this?”
His accent is thick, but not too thick for me to not understand him.
“The Bratva don’t own all of Las Vegas.”
“We should,” Andrei mutters.
“I don’t care about your expansion plan. I care about one woman,” I say. “I’m sure you know of Sean O’Malley and the Irish mob here.”
The Albanian holds my gaze. “Maybe.”
“And his daughter? Cara?” I question him, my voice sharpening.
The Albanian frowns. “Didn’t know he had a kid.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t heard she’s missing?” I ask him again as I take a step closer to him.
He eyes me and shakes his head. “I don’t know this Cara woman. I only know that the Irish are not our friends. Why would I care about what happens to her?”
I glance over at Andrei, seeing the uncertainty on his face. It’s hard to tell if he’s telling the truth or not. Maybe I should put a little more pressure on him.
I step closer to him and drive my thumb into the bullet wound in his thigh, making him seize up in pain. “Are you sure about that? Don’t fucking lie to me!”
He thrashes around as much as the ropes will allow, his shout of pain echoing throughout the room. “I don’t know anything about her! I swear!”
I pull my thumb away and glare down at him. “Seems like a missed opportunity for you all. I already know you’re slowly infiltrating the city, trying to compete with Bratva and Irish businesses.”
He scoffs at me. “There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.”
Smartass bastard. Does he really want to play with me right now?
“It would benefit you if the local Bratva families suffered,” I state, monitoring every twitch and shift of his expression in case it gives something away.
“That’s just a fact,” he replies evenly.
“A while ago, there was a shooting at the Wynn. I was a target. Some of my men were shot,” I tell him. “What do you know about that?”
He moves his shoulders like he wants to throw up his hands. “Nothing! Why would we open fire at a place like that? Too many witnesses.”
I still haven’t figured out who was ballsy enough to pull off that stunt.
“So, the Albanians are clean? You guys are just here to make bank on gamblers,” I question him with a slight sneer.
He narrows his eyes. “We’re minding our own damn business. You should do the same.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be passing out any warnings,” Andrei tells him from behind me.
The Albanian tightens his jaw. “Trust me, you and the rest of the Bratva don’t want to make enemies of us. You’re already off to a bad start.”
I jab my finger against his chest. “I don’t give a shit. I’m doing what needs to be done!”
He smirks at me. “All this over a woman? She really has you by your balls, doesn’t she?”
I don’t even blink before I strike him in the face with a punch.
Blood sprays from his lips as his head snaps to the side. He grunts in pain, hanging his head for a moment to recover before his gaze locks with mine.
“You will regret this!” he shouts at me.
I turn away from him and look at Andrei. “He doesn’t know anything. We’re back at square one.”
Andrei follows me as I storm out of the room.
“What should we do with him, sir?” one of my men asks.
“Release him in a few hours. Let him limp back and spread the story. Maybe the right ears will hear it,” I tell him.
Andrei falls in step with me as I walk out of the antique shop to get some fresh air. “What if he’s just some low-level solider who didn’t know anything?”
“Even the young trainees of the Bratva know about the big missions. They overhear things and gossip. They always know more than they should,” I reply before tilting my head back and drawing in a deep breath through my nose. “This was wasted blood.”
“We’ve crossed a suspect off the list, though,” Andrei points out. “We can put our focus where it needs to be.”
“Yeah, with all the other suspects on the list,” I mutter before lowering my eyes to the sidewalk, listening to the sound of cars driving down nearby streets.
“You should talk to Sean again,” Andrei tells me. “You need to make sure he isn’t trying to fuck you over or distract you.”
I know that he’s right. I have a lot of questions and suspicions, and they mostly revolve around Sean. I don’t even truly know if he cares enough about his own daughter to save her.
“I’m still waiting for that bastard to call again with their terms for the trade,” I tell Andrei as I check my phone, not seeing any missed calls. I now sleep with it right next to my head so that I don’t possibly miss a call.
It’s my only connection to Cara right now.
“Would you do the trade? Would you really work with this person?” Andrei asks me, wariness clouding his eyes.
I shift my eyes down the street, focusing on a flashing red light. The Bratva doesn’t work with our enemies. We rely only on ourselves.
I’ve already broken that rule by aligning myself with Sean to find Cara, and I still don’t know if that’s the right move or not. Doing business with another enemy puts me, my family, and the rest of the Bratva even more at risk.
But I don’t know the terms yet, and I can’t just do nothing if I want to save Cara. I’m willing to do just about anything to get her back and safe in my arms again.
“I need to save her,” I merely say before heading down the sidewalk toward the dark car concealed in shadows that’ll take me home. “Goodnight, Andrei.”
My driver hurries into the driver’s seat as I approach.
“Take me home,” I tell him once I get into the backseat, darkness consuming me.
Home doesn’t really feel like home anymore. It just feels like a safe place for me to restlessly toss and turn before I get up to try to find Cara again.
This endless cycle is killing me, but I’m not going to stop until she’s back in my bed, her head on my chest, a smile on her face.
I fucked up before by sending her away, thinking that I was keeping her safe.
I won’t make that mistake again.