17. Alik

17

ALIK

T he Irish and Italians are already at the abandoned factory when we arrive.

Sergey takes up the rear while I lead us through the first floor to the underground tunnel someone found ages ago. We use this spot for our meetings because the tunnel blocks wire signals and offers peace of mind for enemies with little trust. Plus, it’s mutual territory. At this point, it’s practically sacred. If anyone were to pull something while in a meeting here, it would breach an agreement that spans beyond the bosses’ generations. It’s telling how unusual it is that Nikita would be nervous here.

Finn Walsh, the Irish enforcer who’s proven to be useless to me, stands with his back leaned against a pole and his arms casually crossed. He gives me a toothy grin when he spots me but drops it a second later. Victor Stoll stands at his left looking bored. The families didn’t bring any other guards, so I can’t see them trying anything. But then again, both of their top assassins are here.

Soldiers aren’t allowed in the tunnel, so I step aside while Nikita goes to the ladder that leads him down. Standing on the top rung, he pins his stare on me. “You’re with me.”

My eyes narrow with confusion, but when Nikita tosses his cane down and descends the ladder, I follow. Victor and Finn exchange a look, like they’re unsure what they should do about this, but neither make a move.

I climb down the ladder and drop onto hard dirt that billows around my feet.

“What the fuck is this?”

It takes a moment to adjust to the bright bulbs hanging from strings along the top of the tunnel, stinging the backs of my eyes. But I don’t need to see to know it was Settimo who spoke. I suspected it’d be the Italian boss who was least happy about my presence.

Nikita picks up his cane and limps to stand in the circle the group of bosses and their right-hands have arranged. Nikita has no right-hand. He cut it off a while ago.

“What?” Nikita asks, not showing any sign of knowing what Settimo is talking about. I’m not even sure if I should hang back or stand in the circle, but I take up the space Nikita seems to leave for me at his side and clasp my hands in front of me.

“ You know what ,” Settimo snaps. “He isn’t welcome here.”

Nikita turns to me as if he’s just remembered my presence. “Don’t be rude , Gruco. Alik has been promoted to my counsel. He’s as welcome here as yours.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t promote fucking Freaky Eyes as your underboss.”

Nikita raises his hand to gesture to Lorenzo, Settimo’s brother and second in command. “If disfigurements disqualify an individual, I’m afraid Scarface will have to stand down.” The scar running across Lorenzo’s eye shifts as he glares.

Settimo’s jaw drops. “You son of a?—”

“ Enough . Both of you,” Cormac growls. He lifts his chin toward the ceiling. “Finn!”

I glance over my shoulder to see Finn hop into the tunnel, landing in a crouch with his fist pressed into the ground like he’s mimicking a superhero pose. I can’t tell if he’s trying to be funny or if it’s merely an accident.

There’s a smirk on his face when he stands and saunters toward us, Victor climbing down the ladder behind him. When both soldiers take their places in the circle, Cormac looks around at everyone.

“There. Now we’re even… What the fuck do you want, Nikita?”

Nikita. He must’ve been the one to call the meeting. I thought it was Cormac, only because Nikita doesn’t call meetings, and the Italians haven’t wanted anything to do with us as of late.

Nikita squares his shoulders and lets his cane slacken so it’s clear he doesn’t need it to stand straight. “I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem, gentlemen. Especially you and I, Cormac.”

“What?” Cormac deadpans.

Nikita’s gaze shifts to Settimo for a moment. “I’m not saying the don knows of it, but… I believe some of the Italians are working to pin the DEA against the Irish and Bratva.”

Settimo scoffs, but Cormac’s neutral expression doesn’t crack. “What are you talking about?”

Good question. What is he talking about? I watch Nikita while carefully keeping my expression as neutral as Cormac’s.

“As you know, the DEA has been heavily targeting the Bratva the past few months, while it seems both of your organizations have been relatively stable. Well,” Nikita clears his throat. “I have reason to believe it’s the Italians’ doing.”

“That’s—”

“What proof do you have?” Cormac asks, cutting off Settimo. He doesn’t sound like a man calling bullshit. He sounds curious.

Nikita sighs like he’s disappointed in the news he’s about to share. News I’m about to hear for the first time as well.

Now I understand why he brought me down here. It wasn’t to protect him from a well thought out assassination attempt. It was to protect him from Settimo’s rage.

“There’s a girl who snitched on a drug exchange done by your organization. Alik has been watching her closely because she’s the daughter of the SAC, and he’s reported seeing her with an Italian soldier several times.”

The tunnel gets quiet for a moment as Settimo’s face reddens at the accusation.

“What are you saying?” Cormac asks.

Nikita blinks quickly. “Oh, my apologies. I thought it was obvious. The Italians are using the special agent’s daughter to sick the DEA on your organization. My assumption is they’ve done the same to mine.”

“Your assumption is wrong,” Anthony, the third and youngest Gruco brother pipes in, his anger barely contained. “We had nothing to do with the DEA targeting the Bratva, and we would never stoop so low as to encourage a snitch. Whatever intel you have is false.”

“Are you calling Alik a liar?” Nikita asks, his chest expanding with the challenge.

All heads turn to me while I will a hole to open up and swallow Nikita to hell where he belongs. I see what he’s doing now, but he could have at least warned me I would be his pawn instead of putting me on the spot for all to judge. I wouldn’t have to work so hard to hide my surprise.

“I’m certain of what I saw.” I raise my chin, aiming my gaze at Cormac. “The woman took a video to the police of your organization doing business only minutes after the Italian left her apartment.”

“Who is he?” Settimo snarls. “Quit calling him ‘the Italian,’ and say his name. We had nothing to do with this. If it was one of our soldiers, he was acting on his own behalf.”

I shrug. “I hadn’t thought he was important enough to identify until after she went to the police, and after that, he didn’t show up at her apartment. The Bratva went to take care of the girl, believing it would benefit us by serving as a distraction to the SAC while also benefiting the Irish for obvious reasons. Then your guy showed up and killed one of ours to protect her.”

The Gruco brothers exchange a look with each other while the Irishmen stare me down. I don’t worry that Cormac might think I’m lying. Nikita’s goal here is to stir the pot so Cormac questions the evidence pointing toward the Bratva being the ones to sabotage the Irish’s operation. Also, I’m sure much of this has to do with the fact that he’s pissed at the Italians for refusing to do business with us. He’s a vindictive, petty son of a bitch.

So I don’t worry about Cormac. I trust NIkita knows what he’s doing when it comes to the bosses.

But Finn…

He looks at me with his head tilted slightly, his eyes dancing around my face. What I’m saying might make sense to the rest of the men, but I specifically asked him to tell me when they planned to go after Olive, and when I thought they had, I was furious. I didn’t talk like a man who’d intended to kill her myself or one who even knew it was happening.

If he digs into this at all, confirms it’s the same girl, it won’t be hard for him to figure out I’m lying.

Worse, he’ll figure out I was the guy who showed up to protect Olive.

“We had nothing to do with this,” Anthony reiterates.

Cormac nods, his hard eyes aimed at Nikita. “I trust that’s true.”

“Regardless,” Nikita spreads out his palms, “I think we can all agree this girl is a problem. She turned one of yours,” he points to Settimo, then after a moment, moves his finger to Cormac, “snitched on yours, and murdered one of ours. And she’s on the loose with the Italian as we speak, probably still whispering in Daddy’s ear about us. I say we pull our resources and find the bitch before the end of the night.”

Anthony’s nose wrinkles. “Are you insane?”

The slight, friendly smile Nikita wears dips into a thinly veiled sneer. His hands lower. “Excuse me?”

“No one is killing the daughter,” Cormac replies for Anthony. “Even if she’s the pest you say she is, she’s a beloved pest. And one of theirs. We may as well paint targets on our backs right along with you.”

Nikita’s blazing eyes widen. I’ll hand it to him, he’s kept his cool throughout this meeting. He almost looked normal for a moment or two.

My God, he reminds me of Olive.

“So we’re to be cowards, then?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe this is the reason the DEA is targeting you?” Anthony asks, shaking his head in amazement. “I mean, fuck.”

“I suppose it’s easy for you to take that stance, considering the bitch is in bed with your organization. It’s almost as if you're protecting her,” Nikita says. His anger is so real that I wonder if he believes his own words. If he’s forgotten that we’re the ones who used Olive. That all of this is our fault.

It’s curious that Cormac isn’t more worried, though. He didn’t even consider killing Olive when I pegged it as a sure thing.

I study his face but don’t see a flicker of concern. Only disgust for Nikita.

Nikita doesn’t seem to notice, too busy looking Anthony up and down. “It wouldn’t be the first time you were too weak to kill a woman.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Anthony spits back with a roll of his eyes.

Nikita stomps into the circle, making my gaze snap to follow him. “Come again?”

Victor and Finn each reach for their guns, so I’m quick to do the same, watching carefully with my hand firmly on the handle while waiting to pull it out.

Come on, Nikita.

Don’t do something we can’t come back from.

When Anthony steps toward Nikita, Settimo shoves him out of the way to take his place.

“Awww, what a sweet big brother you are,” Nikita mocks.

Settimo glares. “What would you know about family?”

Nikita scoffs. “Not a goddamn thing, Settimo. Which is why you are weak, and I am not.”

“Really? Because it looks like one kick to your knee would make you crumble.”

“ Jesus ,” Cormac mutters. My eyes move to him as he shakes his head and gives the signal to his men that it’s time to go. They follow him toward the ladder.

“Where are you going?” Nikita growls.

“You said what you needed to say. I’m not interested in sticking around for your cock fight. Kill the girl if you must, but if you want a bit of friendly advice, I’d recommend leaving her alone.”

Cormac starts up the ladder while Settimo’s men watch. After a few moments, Lorenzo puts a hand on Settimo’s shoulder.

His nostrils flaring, Settimo pulls himself away from Nikita and storms toward the exit.

Then it’s just Nikita and I, his murderous aura sucking the oxygen from the tunnel. I stand with my hands clasped and my expression neutral when he turns around to face me, his shoulders heaving with rage.

He goes to stomp past me but grabs my shirt collar to yank me toward him before growling low in my face. “Find Vitaly… Then find that bitch .”