Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
LYKOS
The streets of Athens, its people, and its buildings blurred past while my driver, Yiorgos, sped down toward the outskirts of the city, driving swiftly in and out of traffic while my faded reflection stared back.
My mood was sour, and my mind was everywhere but on the task at hand.
It stayed behind with the mother of my daughter who seemed to not want anything to do with me and was intent on breaking my family apart. Over my dead body. Although, I shouldn’t say that out loud to Violet. She might be too amiable to that idea.
Women always threw themselves at me, but I was never interested. First, I wanted to be a faithful husband, and then, more importantly, I wanted to be a good father. Violet was the only one who had broken my walls and the only one who seemed to have no issues walking away from me.
Sometimes I wondered if it was exactly that which piqued my interest. But I didn’t think so.
For some reason, I felt close to her and could see my own loneliness in her eyes.
My own dad often told me he knew my mother was the one the moment he saw her.
He couldn’t explain it, telling me one day, he hoped I would understand.
Of course, that was before my marriage to Amara was arranged.
Nonetheless, the night I met Violet, I finally understood my dad’s sentiment. It felt like lightning struck me. Like Eros had shot his arrow and tied me to this woman forever. Like my soul had found its match and glued itself to it.
Cheesy? Fuck, yes. Stupid? Probably.
The fact remains, there was so much more to my connection with Violet than physical attraction and a shared child, but that woman refused to acknowledge it.
Fuck, I wanted to taste her again. Feel her lips on mine. I needed to drink her sighs and swallow her whimpers. All it took was a single night a decade ago for her to ruin me for anyone else forever. Did she even realize what hold she had on me?
My phone buzzed and I retrieved it from my pocket.
It was from Salvatore.
Amara was secured. For all of a minute. She lost her shit. Had to sedate her.
I typed my message back.
Make sure she can’t slip out again. Put guards at her door.
Dammit, I had to take her back to the clinic. I was tempted to ask my best friend to do it, but that wouldn’t be right. It was on me to handle.
Salvatore’s reply flashed on my screen.
Of course.
Then my phone buzzed again.
What do we know about the guy who stole the shipment coming my way?
Me: A punk dabbing his toes into our business.
Salvatore’s reply was instant.
Idiot. See you at the warehouse.
Putting my phone away, I leaned back in my seat and pinched the bridge of my nose to ease this pressure behind my eyes. Maybe I was tired, or maybe this anticipation that shit would blow up any minute was taking its toll on me.
I pushed my hand through my hair and inhaled a lungful of air.
My mad wife was a problem I didn’t know how to handle. I’d tolerate anything and everything from her, but trying to murder my children wasn’t one of them. Being the head of the Greek mafia, I’d done my share of fucked-up shit in my lifetime, but ending Amara’s life seemed like a step too far.
Goddammit, I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.
For years, the doctors reported she had to be constrained daily, and I couldn’t even fathom what kind of hell that had to be for her.
But then in recent months, she was better.
Even they were convinced she was. I was hopeful when the doctors recommended I bring her home.
She was Dimitros’s mother and deserved better.
However, after all that had happened, bringing Amara home was clearly a stupid idea too. There was no question that her mental illness was overtaking her life, but I was at a loss on how to help her anymore.
I had hoped she’d get better with time and professional help, but she hadn’t, and I couldn’t help the bitterness that crept up whenever I thought of everything that had happened.
Having her locked away kept me from killing her, but it didn’t stop me from wishing her dead. She stood on thin ice, very much like the mafia—with one major difference. She could be killed.
Over the last two decades, I had gained power over any and all criminal activities in Greece. It was the reason behind my marriage to Amara. Her family’s alliance and territory fell to me, and I had complete control.
Yes, my organization fucking thrived, but it came at the cost of the happiness, sanity, and safety of both me and my children.
Except nobody knew that. Fuck, people already wondered if Amara was even alive, so what was preventing me from killing my wife?
Maybe it was the last shred of decency I had left. Fuck if I knew.
The car came to a stop and my driver, who also happened to be my bodyguard, came around and opened the door for me. I gave Yiorgos a swift nod and made my way out of the car, straightening my jacket and heading down the parking lot and into the warehouse where we conducted all our questioning.
Maybe it would help relieve some of this tension plaguing me.
My great-grandfather bought this dock complex at a prime price after World War II. Needless to say, they came in handy when transporting goods. And on days such as this one, the docks came in handy for different reasons.
When I entered the warehouse, I found the poor bastard who tried to steal my shipment strung up from the ceiling by his ankles.
“You got here fast,” I greeted Salvatore. “What did you do? Take a helicopter?”
“Shortcut.” He gave me a terse nod, glaring at the strung-up man while holding a cigarette. “And guess what? I didn’t knock when I entered.”
I rolled my eyes. “I only ask you to knock when entering my office, smartass.”
“Well, glad we got that clarified.” Salvatore put the cigarette between his lips, then inhaled deeply before letting out the cloud of smoke. “Now, let’s get back to this asshole.”
The said asshole was hanging like a damn cow carcass five feet off the ground and bleeding from multiple knife wounds. Salvatore was all fun and games until someone attempted to fuck with his business or family. Then he was as ruthless as they came.
Salvatore knew exactly how to slice and dice his target to ensure a slow and painful death. His methods made sure his victim didn’t die until he got his information.
“It doesn’t seem there’s much to get back to,” I muttered, flicking a look at the man.
Salvatore leaned against the single column, wearing jeans, combat boots, and a plain white T-shirt that was splattered with blood.
“He was annoying the shit out of me,” he said coolly. “Apparently, he doesn’t know the definition of a direct answer.”
“Seems fair that you strung him up, then.”
I slid my hands into my pockets as I studied the scene. I rarely did the torturing myself, but today I kind of hoped to have a hand in it to release some of this tension. No such luck.
I stepped through the cooling pool of blood as I crossed the concrete floor of the warehouse, stopping before the hanging asshole’s head. His clothes hung off him, stained with blood.
“You look very uncomfortable,” I drawled, a sinister smile curved around my lips.
My hands were out of my pockets in a blink.
I smashed them against his skull, hitting him so hard his head jerked back as a painful yelp tore from his lips.
“Now, how about a direct answer so we can all go back to our families?”
“Except for you,” Salvatore added coldly. “You’re going to die, but if you give us an answer, we’ll spare your family.”
The man’s pupils dilated with terror as his bloodshot eyes darted to me, then behind me to where Salvatore stood casually.
I turned to address my friend. “How long has he been hanging upside down?”
Salvatore shrugged his shoulders. “A minute or two.”
“Ah, good. We should wrap it up quickly, then.” I returned my attention to the man and asked, “You ready to talk to us?”
In our world, it was risky to love anyone. But more or less, we all had those people in our lives. I loved my children more than my own life. The man hanging in front of me had a family too, and that was where a backup plan came in.
If he didn’t talk, that was our second step. Not that we’d hurt his innocent wife and children, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I don’t know anything,” he whimpered.
“You know where my fucking shipment is,” Salvatore drawled. “And you know your name. Start there.”
“I don’t—”
He didn’t get to finish, because Salvatore was already on him, slicing him across his belly.
“Think twice before you talk,” I coldly recommended. “Salvatore can make this extremely painful for you and your family.”
He coughed. Or maybe cried. I couldn’t exactly tell, nor did I care.
“Now answer the question,” Salvatore gritted.
“Michael… Smith.”
“Excellent. Now about the other question,” I deadpanned. The man blinked, confused, as if he had forgotten the other question. Before Salvatore could get to slicing and dicing again, I repeated the question. “Where is Salvatore’s shipment?”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “At the bottom of the sea.”
Salvatore grabbed him by the hair and tugged on it. “What did you say?”
Michael shook his head. “D-didn’t… know how to get rid of it.”
“Why did you steal it, then, if you only wanted to get rid of it?” I demanded.
He coughed up some blood, then croaked, “I was paid to snatch the shipment from you.”
“From me?” Salvatore asked.
Michael shook his head. “No, from him.”
“Why?” I questioned. This made no sense. If he was stealing the shipment to resell, that made sense. But to do something directly against me… why? Yes, I had enemies, but I knew of most of them.
Salvatore snickered beside me. “Seems you have someone out to get you, Lykos.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “You want to have another go at him? Or should I?”
He flicked his knife over and over, his gaze locked on the man. “I’m game.”
I stepped back and watched with an indifferent expression as Salvatore got to work. He screamed and cried, and it took all of two seconds for Michael to cave.
“The Obsidian Society gave out a task,” he yelled, breathing heavily. “Ob-Obsidian Society.”
Salvatore and I shared a puzzled glance. “What the fuck is the Obsidian Society?”
“I don’t know,” Michael hissed, finding the energy to jerk against the ropes. “You fucking motherfuckers are all crazy!”
He thrashed against the ropes, the coarse material cutting into his wounds. More blood dripped onto the ground.
“You have no idea how crazy we are,” Salvatore said, shoving a knife into his ribs. “Now, explain to us… What’s this Obsidian Society?”
Michael coughed as Salvatore twisted the knife in his ribs, fighting to breathe through the pain.
“Stop,” he hissed, glaring at all of us.
“Give. Us. The. Answer,” I demanded, giving a signal to Salvatore to pull out the knife. The man wasn’t going to last if he kept putting holes in his body. Michael slumped, and I could tell we were finally getting somewhere. “Tell us what you know.”
“I don’t know much.” He sighed, exhaustion seeping from his voice.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell us what you know,” I demanded. “Why attack this ship?” I gripped his hair, making sure the handful was taut against his scalp.
“The rich and powerful own the Obsidian Society.” He coughed up some blood, then added, “They don’t get their hands dirty, hiding behind that organization. That’s all I know.”
“Then why have we never heard of it?” I asked. This sounded like a bunch of bullshit.
I drew my gun from its holster and held it loosely as I studied the man’s bloody face. “Give me the name of any member in this society. Anyone who’s involved, hmm?”
His eyes were trained on the heavy gun in my hand.
I inclined my head and cocked the gun. “In that case—”
“Wait, wait,” he balked. “I don’t know the name, but the rumors are that powerful Boston families are in it,” he confessed on a shaky breath. “That’s all I know. I promise.”
“And what powerful Boston family is that?”
“I don’t know.”
I narrowed my gaze at Michael as I gestured with my matte black Glock G19. Rage shot through me, fast and hot. It ripped my chest to shreds.
“Fucking end him,” Salvatore gritted. “This guy is a fucking idiot.”
“Wait, wait,” Michael pleaded, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath, before he whispered, “That shipment… They’ll try again. The more product lost, the weaker you will be.”
“Name,” I demanded.
He shook his head. “I don’t have it. Nobody knows who’s in the Obsidian Society.”
“If you don’t know who hired you, how did you get instructions?” I asked. “Is this your first job with them?”
“Through the dark web,” he whimpered. “It requires a special software and the Tor browser.”
I was familiar with the site since I used it for my illegal side of the business, like the drug shipment this asshole intercepted.
“What other jobs have you done for them?”
“This is my first job for them. I needed cash and…” He started crying, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know what kind of stupid society that was, but I would have never used a rookie for a job I wanted done. Although, it warranted the question… How was anyone able to get details on my shipment?
“I’ll need your access info,” I barked.
“Please, they’ll kill me,” he begged.
“And what do you think I’ll do to you?” I sneered. “You don’t want me digging into your family, do you?”
He recited his access info, crying like a baby while snot ran down his face, and once Salvatore nodded that he’d written the info down, he was of no use to me anymore.
A shot rang out, echoing through the dark dock.
I flicked a look at Salvatore. The frigid air rolled off him in waves. “Do you believe him?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I do,” he answered, his voice steady. “I’ll see what I can dig up on it.”
I nodded.
“We have to find everything,” I declared. “Before it costs us all we’ve built. Only the two of us know about this.” I fixed my gaze on my best friend. “It doesn’t leave this room until we learn all there is to know about it and why this society is after me.”