40. Nikolai
Nikolai
I can’t stay in this house. The walls are pressing in, and I feel Gabby’s fear everywhere. It’s suffocating. I’m not a man of inaction. Luke’s absence has left a hollow ache in my chest that I can’t fill. Only violence will help.
“Let’s go,” I tell the men gathered around me.
Sergei returned an hour ago with nothing.
We head to my armory. It’s got an extra layer of security now that Luke’s in the house.
We’ve removed some of the weapons placed around the house and locked them up in here.
After entering a code, scanning my fingerprint, and unlocking one final lock, we step into the small space.
We load up, strapping on holsters and Kevlar.
We all have someone waiting for us. For once, no one gives anyone shit about it.
It’s time to go to the top. I want blood. I need someone to feel the pain that’s threatening to take me to my knees. I can’t stand to watch Gabby suffer. It’s making me crazy.
Pasha falls into step beside me as we head for the door. “You sure about this?”
“I can’t sit here and wait for reports. Every second that piece of shit has my boy is another second he breathes.” My voice is raw, stripped of the control I’ve spent years perfecting. “The Italians have been circling long enough. It’s time one of them talked.”
We take four SUVs, adding a few of my most trusted men to the army of cousins and brothers at my back. The city blurs past in streaks of neon. Vegas in the summer still scorches the night, but I don’t feel it. All I feel is the fracture spreading in my chest.
Our driver knows where we’re going. We’re headed straight to the fucking don. Sergei doesn’t want me to kill him. I understand the ripple effect, but if it comes to his life or Luke’s, Sergei can fucking deal with the fallout.
This is me breaking. The man who never loses control is gone, replaced by something feral.
Pasha got intel that Don Castellano is holed up at his estate.
Luke isn’t here. There’s no chance the don would make the mistake of keeping a kidnapped child on his property.
Pasha’s information is solid, and I trust it.
Luke isn’t on the property. It would be easier if he were, but that doesn’t mean Castellano doesn’t know where he is.
“Are we knocking?” Maksim asks from the front. “Please tell me I get to be the knocker.”
“Blow it,” I tell him.
He lets out a squeal and pulls the case of grenades forward. They’re not something we use unless we have no other choice. This is one of those situations, and since the Italians are fond of blowing shit up, it’s only fair we return the favor.
Pasha is on the radio with the rest of our army trailing behind us. Maksim rolls down the window, grinning like it’s Christmas morning.
The gate sits far enough from the house that a blast won’t reach it. I trust the intel, but I can’t risk Luke.
“Bombs away, motherfuckers!” Maksim pulls several pins and tosses one after another.
Shouts erupt a second before a series of explosions light up the night sky.
Twisted metal flies through the air. Pieces rain on the SUV as our driver guns it through the gap where the gate and fence once stood.
Men scatter across the grounds. The compound lights up all at once: spotlights blaze, and guards pour out of the main house with weapons raised.
Gunfire erupts. I’m out of the SUV in a flash, using the door as cover. Bullets ping off the armored plating. My men fan out behind me in a formation we’ve drilled a thousand times. Muscle memory takes over while every thought I have remains fixed on Luke.
“Cease fire!” I roar over the chaos. My voice cuts through the gunshots. “I’m here to talk to the don!”
More bullets answer. One ricochets off the doorframe inches from my head.
“Your choice!” I shout back. “Let me talk to Castellano, or we kill every last one of you!”
Pasha is beside me, firing controlled bursts toward the house. Sergei and Kirill have taken position near the fountain. Maksim is somewhere to my right. I hear his laugh over the gunfire. He’s enjoying this too much.
“Stand down!” A new voice cuts through the noise. Older. Authoritative. “Stand down, goddammit!”
The shooting slows, then stops. My ears ring in the sudden quiet. Smoke hangs in the air, acrid and thick. The hot air presses down on us. Sweat beads my skin.
The front door of the estate opens. Don Castellano steps out, flanked by six guards. Gray hair slicked back. Not a wrinkle in his suit. He moves with the measured confidence of a man who’s survived decades.
“Sokolov.” His voice carries across the courtyard. “You have some nerve coming to my home like this.”
I step out from behind the SUV door. My gun stays in my hand, pointed at the ground, but ready. “Where’s Matteo Castellano?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” I step forward. My men shift with me, a unified wall. “Your nephew, cousin, or whoever the fuck he is kidnapped my son this morning. I want him back. Now.”
The don’s expression doesn’t change. “Your son?”
I feel the silence. I feel the eyes on me. My brothers’ included.
“The boy he took is mine.” The words come out flat. Final. “I want him back.”
“I heard about a kidnapping on the news.” Don Castellano spreads his hands. “Terrible thing. But I don’t know anything about it.”
I raise my gun and point it at his head. Six weapons train on me. I don’t flinch. “I will put a bullet in your head before your men get the first shot off.”
“Nikolai.” Sergei’s voice carries a warning. He’s moved up beside me. “Think about what you’re doing.”
I don’t take my eyes off the don. “I’ve thought about it. Luke comes home, or everyone dies. Simple.”
The don studies me for a long moment. I see him weighing options. Risks. Benefits.
“Lower your weapons,” he says finally. Not to me. To his guards.
They hesitate. He waves his hand impatiently. “Do it.”
The guns lower. Not holstered but pointed at the ground.
I keep mine where it is.
“I told you on the phone,” Don Castellano says. “We are not targeting your family. Whatever Matteo is doing, he’s acting alone.”
“You expect me to believe you don’t know where he is?”
“I expect you to believe I have no reason to lie.” He takes a step forward, ignoring the fact that I have a gun pointed at his head.
Ballsy; I’ll give him that. “Matteo came to me two months ago. Wanted back in. I told him no. His wife gave the FBI enough to dismantle more than half our East Coast operation. Bringing him back would put us all at risk. He’s a liability. ”
“So, you cut him loose.”
“I told him to disappear. Go back to Italy. Stay dead.” The don’s jaw tightens. “He didn’t listen.”
“Where is he?” I ask again.
“I don’t know.”
I cock the hammer. The click is obscenely loud in the quiet courtyard. “Wrong answer.”
“You wouldn’t,” Castellano says.
“I would.”
“Wait!” One of the guards steps forward. Younger. Maybe thirty. “I might know something.”
The don whips his head toward him. “Tony.”
“Don Castellano, this isn’t our fight.” Tony looks at me. “Matteo approached me last week about a safe house. I told him no, but he had already scoped it out.”
“Which one?” I demand.
Tony glances at the don, who nods curtly.
“Near the old rail yard.” He rattles off an address.
Pasha is on his phone, feeding the address to our people.
I lower my gun slowly. “If you’re lying…”
“I’m not lying,” Tony says. “I got no love for Matteo. He’s brought nothing but heat on all of us.”
Don Castellano steps forward again. “Sokolov. When you find him, you do what you need to do. After tonight, we’re done. You want to build your casino, build it. We stay out of each other’s way.”
I stare at him. This is a peace offering I didn’t expect.
Sergei glances at me, waiting for my objection. I give him none.
“Agreed,” he says. “No more conflict.”
“Then we have an understanding.” The don looks directly at me. “I hope you find your boy.”
I don’t thank him. I turn, head back to the SUV, and get in.
“Back to the estate,” I order. “Gabby needs to hear this from me.”
“And we need a better plan than throwing grenades,” Pasha says. “If Luke is in there, we can’t hit the same way.”
I want to shoot everyone who touched that boy. But that would only traumatize Luke more.
Ya idu za toboi, syn.
I'm coming for you, son.