Chapter Thirteen
Jarek
T he next morning, Surrey’s Restaurant at Castle Island, State Park in Boston...
Jarek stared at the mahogany panels in Nevil Surrey’s office while his advisor pressed a hidden button under the antique desk. The wood silently slid apart, revealing a steel elevator door. His jaw clenched. The morning sun streaming through the office windows did nothing to calm the rage coursing through his veins.
The restaurant above Castle Island was just a front. Below the Fort of Independence lay the real heart of the Somerville Irish Mafia’s operation—a maze of tunnels built in 1802 by the War Department. What once protected Boston from British attacks now served as their command center. Jarek had transformed the crumbling underground bunker into a fortress, reinforcing the walls with steel plates and installing state-of-the-art security systems. The tunnels were his veins into the city, with three separate access points. One from the restaurant, one from the harbor, and another through the vehicle causeway. The only ones who knew about the access tunnel from the restaurant were him, Nevil, and Declan.
“I can’t tell you how fucking glad I am you warned me about Polov’s intent,” Nevil said, his massive frame seeming to fill the office as he ran a hand over his buzz cut. “I could’ve been the one dissolved to just teeth instead of Oliver.”
Despite his gentle brown eyes, Nevil had steel running through his veins. His private airline business provided a perfect cover for their operations, and his tactical mind had saved their organization more than once. He was the kind of man who could smile while pulling a trigger—exactly the sort Jarek needed in his ranks. Along with Declan, he had been the first to volunteer to move with Jarek to the U.S. To this day, he was one of the most valuable assets of the Somerville Irish Mafia.
“I’m just pissed that the bastard managed to escape,” Jarek snarled as they entered the elevator. “Everything could’ve ended last night. How the fuck didn’t we know about that escape tunnel, Declan?”
The betrayal burned in his gut. In all his years running the organization, not one man had ever turned against him. That Polov had managed to swing one of his best leaders proved how desperate the Russian was to avoid paying his debt.
Big fucking mistake. Now, he had signed his own death warrant. The first kill was done... Polov had instigated a full-scale war of power. Jarek was only too happy to comply.
“I spoke to one of the maintenance crew this morning,” Declan replied as the elevator descended. “Apparently, there was a team two months or so ago who worked in the storage office. He didn’t know anything about it. Said it was a management project.”
“So, the motherfucker has been planning this for some time,” Nevil said with scorn.
“Of course, he has,” Declan snapped. “I warned you, Boss. A man like Polov won’t just lie down and take what you dish out. He’s not going to let up. Mark my words.”
“Oh, my dear friend...” Jarek’s smirk held no warmth. “I have always hoped his reaction would be just that.”
Their footsteps echoed through the concrete tunnels. The air was heavy with decades of secrets. Emergency lights cast harsh shadows on the reinforced walls. Water pipes and electrical conduits ran along the ceiling, feeding life into their underground world.
The passage opened into their command center—a cavern of technology. Dozens of screens covered the walls, displaying satellite feeds and security cameras. Soldiers and admin staff moved with military precision between workstations, monitoring communications while others tracked and assessed financial targets.
“So, what’s the next step?” Nevil asked, lengthening his strides to keep up with Jarek.
“First, get your family safety. Gregor isn’t stupid. He would know you have intimate details about me and our operations. He’s going to come for you through them.”
“They’re already on their way out of the country. No one will find them. I made sure of that,” Nevil said.
“Good, and now, I’m bringing out the big guns. Once my wife emotionally and physically removes them from her existence for good, Polov is done. He’ll be free game and—”
“I’m confused,” Declan cut in. “Why are you concerned about Tatiana Polov? You only married her to get to the motherfucker. What does it matter whether she’s concerned about their welfare?”
Jarek paused, considering how much to reveal. These past weeks with Tatiana had changed everything. Since their scene at the club, she shared his bed, challenged his mind, and surprisingly, brought peace to his chaos. She was nothing like Polov. Her soul held a light that drew him in despite himself. What had started as a minimum five-year payment arrangement was becoming something else entirely.
“Since I decided to stay married to her,” he said finally. “I meant it when I said I wanted a child. Not to replace Emma but to have an heir to hand over my legacy one day. No child of mine is going to grow up without both parents in their life. Tatiana might be a Polov, but she is so far removed from that bastard’s psychotic endeavors that it makes her unique. Besides, she’s beautiful, highly intelligent, and a challenge I find I can’t resist.”
“You’re going to burn your entire fucking hand, my friend, never mind your fingers,” Nevil grunted. “Mark my words.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Jarek ignored the looks his two friends shared. Let them believe what they want. Tatiana Polov was his wife, and that wasn’t going to change... ever.
“Now, let’s get the ball rolling, shall we?” He turned toward the central command station. Polov had made a grave mistake in prodding the Dark One.
Jarek stood at the command center with his hands braced against the steel desk. The weight of what he was about to do bore down on his shoulders. Twenty years ago, when he had held his dying daughter in his arms, the compassion in him had shattered. That break had led him down a path darker than he had ever imagined for himself. As a mafia Don, he had ordered deaths, orchestrated violence, and manipulated power but always against those who chose to play in the shadows. Those who understood the rules of their world.
Using Tatiana—again—felt different. Wrong, even. She was innocent in all this, yet here he stood, ready to weaponize her pain against her own grandfather. The realization of how far he had fallen from the man he used to be hit him like a physical blow. Where once he had been a father who read bedtime stories and a husband who brought home flowers, he was now a bastard who married a woman to destroy her family.
His knuckles whitened against the desk. There was no turning back now. Gregor’s declaration of war forced his hand. The Russian’s retaliation meant Jarek had to accelerate his plans and tighten the noose before Gregor could strike again. Using Tatiana’s inevitable and permanent break from him would be the final nail in Gregor’s coffin. The last piece needed to bring down his entire empire.
But as Jarek thought of Tatiana, of her quiet strength, her sharp mind, and the way she had begun to thaw the ice around his heart, he felt something he hadn’t experienced in years—shame. Not regret, no, he was too far gone for that, but a hollow acknowledgment of what he had become. Still, he would see this through. He would finish what he had started, only faster and with more finality than originally planned.
And somehow, he would do it without losing the woman who had unexpectedly become his anchor in a world of chaos. The woman who, despite everything, made him want to be better than the monster he had become.