Chapter 3
Viktor~
As my fist hit flesh, it still wasn’t enough to soothe the rage that was eating me alive.
As the sounds of bones cracking hit my ears, they did nothing to calm me.
As the stench of piss and shit filled my nostrils, it didn’t make me feel any better.
I could kill ten men with my bare hands right now, and none of it would make me feel any better.
“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town,” Kasimir sing-songed, and all it did was piss me off further.
“The people on the buss go up and down, up and down, up and down, the people on the bus go up and down, all through the town.”
Then a piercing scream vibrated throughout the room, making Kasimir’s lyrics come to an end, which was neither a good thing nor a bad thing.
Once my brother’s taste for blood reached a fevered pitch, there was no stopping him from the viciousness that he unleashed like a vengeful god.
The smell of blood did things to my brother that would make even the most seasoned psychiatrists label him as a lunatic, but for better or worse, we considered that a plus in our line of work.
“You’re killing him,” I pointed out.
“I am not,” Kasimir huffed. “I’m merely playing with him. Yeah, he’ll bleed out eventually, but you still have a few minutes with him before he meets his maker.”
I looked down at how the man’s leg was sliced wide open, wondering if Kasimir had a scrapbook of his handiwork hidden somewhere in his house. The man always seemed so proud of how creative his mind worked, and I’d find it troublesome if he wasn’t my brother.
Looking back down at the man that I had in my grip, I said, “I’ll give you one last chance to save your family. Tell me what you know about my wife.”
“Nichego!” he yelled, but it didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not. He could really know nothing, but he’d also been too stupid not to watch what he said about Aurora.
As if reading my mind, Kasimir said, “Then you deserve this just for being stupid.”
By sheer happenstance, Kasimir and I had been leaving The Atteberry, a dive bar where you could hear all kinds of little tidbits and rumors, and as we’d been passing the alleyway where all the smokers bullshitted, we’d heard this stupid fuck making a comment about the Italian bitch who was ruining the Korolev bloodline.
I’d been so enraged that it’d taken Kasimir to stop me from killing him, urging me to ‘question’ the man first, considering what had happened to Aurora.
So, two hours later, he was proving to be more stupid than he was informative, and all it did was add to my frustration.
His careless freedom of speech had given me hope of finding out who was behind Aurora’s attack, but if he knew anything, he would have caved by now.
After all, this wasn’t your average run-of-the-mill beating.
Because he had dared to speak my wife’s name, he had earned some rather special attention.
Just then, my phone rang, and while I normally wouldn’t answer it when ‘working’, I couldn’t afford to miss any important phone calls right now.
We were working day and night to find out what happened to my wife, and so I wasn’t going to dismiss anyone wanting to speak to me, save for those who were obviously calling for other unrelated business.
However, when I saw the words ‘Mafia Princess’ flash across my screen, I immediately stepped back, automatically wiping my hands on my pants. “It’s Aurora,” I said. “Take care of this piece of shit.”
Leaving Kasimir to finish the job, I exited the warehouse that we had at the end of Dumont Street, then answered her call, praying that it was her and not her father or one of her brothers with news that I wouldn’t be able to handle.
Even though she’d sounded fine when she’d told me not to send amateurs after her, she’d hung up immediately afterwards, not really giving me any indication of her state of being.
“Baby,” I said as soon as I answered the phone.
“I’m calling because I want to make something very clear, Korolev,” she said, and her voice sounded strong enough to almost drop me to my knees in relief.
“What’s that?”
“The minute your father calls mine, then this will be something beyond either of our control,” she said, and I should have expected as much. “So, my advice is for you to make sure that you have your father and brother at ease, or else us getting married was for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” I automatically bit out. “Every second that I spent with you was not for fucking nothing.”
“You also need to quit calling me,” she said, ignoring that. “You’re not in charge here, Korolev.”
“Then let me see you,” I said, offering up any bargain that I could think of. “Let me see that you’re really okay.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why do you want to see me?” she asked. “Or are you just looking for a way to finish the job?”
“Baby, c’mon...” I said, her words piercing my chest in a way that she’d never understand. “You can’t really believe that I did this. I refuse to believe that you really think that.”
Then, after a few seconds, she said, “You come alone. You come alone, and you will be searched at the gate. You either walk into my father’s house completely unarmed, or else you don’t come here at all, and those are your only two choices, Korolev.”
“Fine,” I agreed, though I wasn’t even sure how that would work.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d ever left the house unarmed, but she was leaving me little choice.
“But how do I know that I’ll even get there?
How do I know that you won’t handle things as soon as I cross into your territory? ”
“I give you my word,” she said, and it was crazy how I believed her.
“When?” I asked, not caring how desperate I sounded.
“Tomorrow afternoon works for me,” she answered, her voice even, like she was making an appointment with a plumber.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I assured her.
Aurora hung up before I could say anything more, but that was okay. As long as I got to see that she was fine with my own two eyes, that’s all I cared about. Nevertheless, I wasn’t so completely far gone that I didn’t recognize the risk that I was taking.
So, after hanging up with my wife, I immediately called my father, and as soon as he answered, I said, “I’m meeting Aurora tomorrow.”
“Where?” he asked, the disapproval clear in that one word.
“At Roman’s,” I told him.
“Net,” he said, forbidding me, though that’s what I’d been expecting. “I will not have it.”
“She’s not setting me up to kill me,” I assured him.
“And how can you be so certain of that?” he spat.
“Because, while I can’t speak for Roman, Santino, or Stefano, Aurora Machetti isn’t the type to kill a man with an unfair advantage,” I explained. “She’ll get no satisfaction out of killing me if it’s a case where I’m just walking into the lion’s den.”
“You cannot know that,” he replied angrily. “She has every reason to want you dead, and you know this as well as I do.”
“I didn’t call you to ask for permission,” I told him pointedly. “I called you to tell you that I’m going to go see my wife tomorrow. Should I not make it back, my affairs are already all in line.”
“I thought you said that she wasn’t going to kill you,” he drawled out.
“She’s not,” I replied pointedly. “However, I can’t speak for her brothers or father.”
After a bit, he said, “I cannot have my heir walking into a deathtrap, Viktor. Surely, you can see this.”
I knew this wouldn’t work if I wasn’t completely honest with him, so I said, “I need to see it for myself, Otets. I need to see her, and I need to talk to her. We’ve gotten nowhere on our own, and talking on the phone isn’t going to earn me the trust that I need to get information from her.”
“Net,” he said again. “I need a guarantee that you are not walking into your own death. I need Roman Marchetti’s word that you will be unharmed.”
“This isn’t high school-”
“I know it’s not high school!” he yelled over the phone. “This is much more important! This is about my sons! This is about my legacy!”
“You either trust me or you don’t,” I snapped, not willing to budge on this. “I know what I’m doing, and unlike my wife, I’m not cavalier about my own life, Otets. I have every intention of leaving the meeting alive.”
“I want Roman Marchetti’s word,” he repeated. “And that is your Pakhan speaking.”
No longer speaking with my father, I knew that I had no choice. Blood ties or not, a Pakhan’s word was never to be challenged, and I’d never put my father in a position where he’d have to decide between killing me or not.