20. Nikolai

20

NIKOLAI

" T atiana good?" Dmitry asked as he leaned against the wall and stared at the ground, his jaw working as he ground his teeth.

"After dinner, the men checked in that she cleaned the kitchen and was turning in for the night. She also told them to ‘fuck off' when they wanted to stay outside the front door and that ‘guard dogs stayed outside the apartment building.'"

I would have chuckled at the piss and vinegar in my baby sister, but I was too jacked up on anger and adrenaline to find any humor that she let the Petrov temper take control.

"Her bedroom light went out, and she's been quiet ever since. "

I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling the weight of fucking everything on my shoulders. I knew Dmitry felt the same.

The backroom in the basement of one of the empty buildings we owned was dimly lit, and the air was heavy with violent tension. There were three other men we'd brought along for this "meeting" and each one of us was jonesing to let out some aggression.

I paced back and forth as anticipation coursed through my veins like a drug. The only fucking drug I needed to get the job done. And by job, I meant slaughtering my enemies.

The promise of violence, of retribution and vengeance, was so intoxicating it coated the air like thick smog.

"When the fuck are they showing—" Dmitry's words were cut off when the heavy, metal door creaked open. We all turned and focused on the young man who was being dragged in by two of our soldiers.

The man couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and despite his muscular frame, the fucker was pale and trembling, his fear seeping out of him like an infection from a wound .

Our men hauled him into the center of the room and tossed him on the ground, and the guy flipped onto his ass before standing. His leg was fucked up, which was clear because he couldn't keep much weight on it as he hobbled around, looking at the big motherfucking Russians who surrounded him.

"What's your name?" Dmitry commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. He pushed off the wall, making his way a few steps toward the scared shitless little douchebag. When silence met Dmitry's question, he barked out, "Speak, motherfucker."

"J-Josh," the other man stuttered. The vicious pause that followed his response had him swallowing hard, his eyes darting between us.

I could see the fear in his gaze, and I would've been lying if I didn't admit it got me off. "You know why you're here." It wasn't a question. His bloody nose and black eye told me our message had been heard and felt.

"I-I was at the warehouse. I saw everything," he stammered.

We put out feelers after we discovered someone had taken out Maksim. Although Maksim wasn't a top-level member, he was still part of the Bratva, so it was a direct insult and hit to me and my brother. We didn't fuck around when it came to anyone thinking they could make a move on us.

I stared hard at Josh, and it was clear the intensity of my glare scared the shit out of him. He flinched and took a step back, and then another one, until he slammed into Dmitry's chest. My brother placed his big hands on Josh's shoulders and dug his fingers in hard enough the guy squealed like a pig.

Dmitry pushed him forward, and Josh stumbled, righting himself as he kept his focus on me.

"Why didn't you come to us with this information?" I asked.

Josh didn't answer, just looked at all the men surrounding him.

"Why did you run when you heard we were looking for you?" Dmitry added, walking over, and he got on his haunches, rifling through the black tool bag we brought for tonight. When he stood and faced our "guest," holding up a hunting knife, Josh started crying.

"Oh, fuck," he blubbered. "Please." He held his hands up, palms facing outward in defense. "I got scared." He ran the back of his hand over his nose, smearing snot and blood across his cheek. "I planned on coming to you and telling you everything, but I was scared shitless. Fuck, can you blame me?"

I looked at Dmitry, and after a prolonged pause, we both started laughing. "True that," I said, but then sobered instantly when I focused back on Josh. "Running was the wrong move, man. Made you look guilty. Like maybe you were part of it."

Josh shook his head furiously, squeezed his eyes shut, and sniffed, causing blood to slip out of his nose. "No, no-no-no . I would never go against you guys. I'd never go against the Petrovs." He was stumbling over his words, his fear making him seem sloppy.

"Calm the fuck down before you piss yourself." The disgust in Dmitry's voice was tangible. "Just tell us what you saw, and we'll talk about you leaving here, Josh. Sound good?"

He just wouldn't be leaving in one piece. Many pieces. But not in a way that he was still breathing and walking out on his own.

When Josh didn't speak right away, I was in front of him a second later, my fingers digging into his cheeks and chin. "We know you were there, trying to score drugs—which we can ignore that you were in our territory but buying from a scumbag who we've made perfectly clear is not allowed to sell here. We just want to know what happened in the warehouse." I kept my voice level, easy. No need to scare the prey before it gave us predators what we wanted. He'd see how dangerous we were soon enough.

"There were four men," Josh began, his voice shaking. "Three of them were speaking Russian and looking through crates. They started pulling the shipment out."

We gave him a few seconds to get his bearings before telling the piss-stain to hurry the fuck up.

"I heard the gunshots first and saw two of them drop like freakin' flies. Then a man came out of the shadows. He was dressed all in black with a hood covering his head. I couldn't see his face clearly."

"And then?" Dmitry snapped, his patience thin.

"H-He shot the last guy point-blank right in the head."

"Did he see you?" I asked, my voice void of emotion, although inside I was a volcano about to erupt.

Josh shook his head. "I stayed hidden. But I knew I was going to tell you right away."

"But you didn't," Dmitry said and cleaned beneath his fingernail with the tip of the hunting knife he still held .

Josh's eyes were wide as hell as he stared at my brother. "When he left, I panicked and tried to move out of the shadows. My foot caught a box, and he turned around. The overhead light showed me his face." He swallowed and looked between us.

The fucker knew who he saw.

"I'd seen him before… at one of the underground fights."

I ground my teeth, and Dmitry made a feral sound from deep within his chest. Dmitry handled the fights. Hell, he just got out of prison not that long ago for shit that went down at one of the fights. Five fucking years, my brother was locked away. So the fact that one fighter was going behind our backs and killing off our men meant we had a traitor close to us.

"Who was it?" Dmitry asked between clenched teeth.

Josh shook his head again. "I-I was high when I saw him fight. I don't remember what they called him, but I remembered his face… and all those tattoos, and his dark hair and blue eyes."

We knew… we fucking knew exactly who he was talking about.

The only motherfucker decked out in tattoos with jet black hair and ice blue eyes was the leader of the West Coast Cosa Nostra.

Fucking Gio.

Before we could pry more information out of the asshole, he started stammering again.

"But… but I remember something from the warehouse." Josh looked hopeful, like what he was about to tell us was going to save his fucking life. It wouldn't.

"The last man to die mentioned something about The Stygian Syndicate. I couldn't hear anything else from him. But the man who killed him spoke Italian in response."

I narrowed my eyes at Josh. "Are you sure about that? You learn some Rosetta Stone shit or something?"

Josh licked his lips and winced as his tongue came into contact with the split skin. "When I was younger, I had a neighbor who was Italian. I recognized the language enough to tell the killer spoke Italian."

It clicked like the perfect fucking puzzle piece sliding into place. And as I stared at my brother, Dmitry's eyes narrowed, he curled his lip, and he lowered his head as he stared at the ground.

There was only one fighter who spoke Italian .

One fighter who had dark hair and blue eyes and was covered in tattoos.

One fighter who went by a Russian name, D'yavol, so no one would suspect he wasn't one of us.

My motherfucking brother-in-law.

Gio.

My fists were clenched, my nails digging into my palms. "You sure about all that, Josh?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes. God, yes, that's the truth. I swear it," his voice was barely above a whisper.

My mind raced with dark thoughts.

"That motherfucker," Dmitry snappedunder his breath.

Gio. That bastard. The audacity to step into our territory to kill Maksim and our men. My lip curled into a snarl.

I focused my attention on Josh, looked at Dmitry, and my brother nodded once. He strode up to him, curled his hand around the other man's nape, and Josh whimpered. He looked into Dmitry's eyes and saw his fate.

"You've been a big help, Josh." His voice was low. "For that, we thank you." And then he plunged the hunting knife into Josh's navel and dragged the blade up.

His screams were high-pitched before turning wet as his lungs filled with blood. His insides spilled out and landed with a splat on the concrete. Dmitry took a step back, his pants and clothes covered in the red, viscous fluid.

Josh fell to the ground, a corpse at my brother's feet. Dmitry turned to face me, holding up the knife and showing how his hand was covered in blood. He chuckled and cleaned the blade off on his pant leg.

"Clean this up and get rid of the body," I addressed our men and gestured for Dmitry to follow me out. We headed down the dilapidated corridor until we found ourselves in an old office.

"That bastard thinks he can come into our territory and take out one of our own?" Dmitry spoke instantly, his voice a vicious whisper. "Maksim was at the bottom of the fucking barrel, but he was one of ours, and Gio just?—"

"Just calm down," I interrupted, my voice icy and controlled. It sure as hell was a stark contrast to the inferno burning within me.

I could hear Dmitry breathing hard, and after a second, he grunted and started pacing.

"This is the second time we've heard about The Stygian Syndicate." My mind raced as I thought about all of this. "Aside from Gio and the Cosa Nostra being involved in taking out our men?—"

"Gio might have gone rogue. We have to be level-headed right now. The Cosa Nostra may not even know he's gone off the fucking deep end."

I cocked an eyebrow at my brother. "Dude, we are the furthest thing from being level-headed."

Dmitry turned and started pacing again.

My fury only intensified. "It makes sense."

Dmitry looked at me like I'd lost my damn mind.

"Gio has always been ambitious. Look how he stepped up after his father was taken out. He runs his crew like a fucking drill sergeant. None of those men would go against him."

"You think Gio is involved with The Stygian Syndicate?"

I shrugged and ran a hand over my hair, not sure how to answer Dmitry. "I don't fucking know, but Maksim clearly knew shit about them, which he never told us about."

"But we can't rule out that Gio may be involved with them or, at the very least, knows about this fucking group. Being allies means he should have told us because, if it affected him, it could affect us."

Every scenario of Gio being involved with this rogue group that was stirring shit up played through my head. I knew it probably was for Dmitry too.

"Shit, man. This is a problem. More than just a traitor we can take out to send a message to others. This is coming from inside our goddamn house."

"Yeah," I exhaled and scrubbed a hand over my jaw.

Fuck, did Gio know about Tatiana's attack? Clearly, this Stygian piece-of-shit group was involved with that, given our intel. And if Gio knew about them, he'd for sure know about her assault.

The realization was like gasoline on the fire inside me. I thought about Tatiana's attack.

My sister. Our blood.

I looked at Dmitry and saw he was already staring at me. He was thinking the same thing I was.

"We have a lot of shit to talk about."

He nodded after I spoke, his jaw set with determination. "Gather our men. We're going to get every single fucking detail and find out how deep Gio is involved with The Stygian. After that, we'll deal with him taking out our men."

As we left the backroom, I felt a thrill of anticipation move through me. The promise of violence and retribution was intoxicating, but hanging on to that same thought was the fact that Gio might have betrayed us.

I focused on that dark beast within me, the monster who I let sink its claws deep within me.

I stayed in my element where I could focus on what I knew—and felt—best.

Darkness. Violence. Payback.

This war had just started, and fucking hell was I ready to bathe in blood and chaos.