57. Epilogue

Chapter fifty-seven

Epilogue

Wes

M y hand clutches the ripped piece of paper that contains the phone number of the head of the Bratva. With everything I’ve learned about him, this information I have on his organization’s activities here will probably piss him off. Good. I hope that forces his hand and he helps get this shit under control. It’s rare I run into a stalemate with a case, but this has been the case when it comes to the Bratva.

I’m man enough to know when I need help and it’s his help that would be the most beneficial.

I pull out my pack of cigarettes, shake one up, and put it between my lips. Lighting it up and inhaling, I dial the number on my phone.

Leaned up against the balcony railing, I face the glass window and doors of the loft. Layne is dancing around the kitchen, full of energy, baking cookies. The smile on my face stares back at me in the window’s reflection. She’s nearly ten weeks pregnant and everything has been according to plan so far.

With a cloud of smoke escaping my lips, I remain attentive to the dial tone, anticipating the moment when the call will finally connect.

As the call connects, you can hear wind and laughter in the background.

“ Da ,“ in his thick Russian-accented voice, he expresses his annoyance.

“Mr. Igorov, or should I call you Pakhan?” I say, flicking the ash from my cigarette over the balcony to the ground below.

“Who is this?”

“Let’s just say I’m a concerned vigilante who has been watching your group here in San Francisco, and let me tell you, I’m growing increasingly agitated. Pakhan, are you aware that a faction of your men here have been trafficking teenage girls and are dipping their noses in the local drug trade?” My words are like venom. Even the mention of the girls being trafficked feels like poison when I say them.

Everything about this is fucked up.

“Lies.” He says, his voice drips with disdain at the implication.

I flick my cigarette butt over the edge, the trail of smoke. This motherfucker! “I. Don’t. Lie.” My words come out harsh and I don’t care if my tone offends him. “Especially when it comes to underage girls being trafficked for the sick pleasure of others.” I catch the growl that comes from him.

Good, get angry, motherfucker. Do something about this.

“Nor do I fuck around about drugs being moved around in my city.” I include, while my major priority is the trafficking, I don’t tolerate drugs at all.

“I assure you, I don’t know of any of my men that would go against my word,” he replies, his voice trembling slightly. “I run a tight ship. I make it very clear to my men that we do not engage in such disgusting ventures. ”

I scoff. He must be na?ve as fuck if he thinks people don’t go against their leaders, especially one that is in a completely different country. “Oh, I’m sure you do. But let me tell you, Pakhan, the evidence I’ve gathered is undeniable. I have photos, videos, and witness testimonies that prove your Bratva’s involvement in trafficking. It’s just a matter of time until I expose everything.”

I can hear the tension building in his voice as I drop the bombshell. The wind whips around me, mirroring the storm brewing between us. I take out another cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag, savoring the bitter taste as I prepare to push him further.

“But here’s the thing, Pakhan,” I continue, my voice steady and resolute. “I’m not interested in exposing your organization to the authorities. That would be too easy, too simple. No, I want something more.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, the sound of his heavy breathing mingling with my own.

“Listen here,” he says, voice firm. “If what you’re saying is true, rest assured that I will sort this out. I will find out who is responsible and ensure they face the consequences. I’m strongly opposed to the selling of women and drugs. This would have never been approved by me.”

“So what do you want?” he finally growls, his voice laced with caution.

A smirk tugs at the corners of my lips as I lean against the balcony railing, the city lights twinkling in the distance.

“I hope you’re true to your word, Pakhan. These innocent girls deserve better lives. You hold the responsibility to correct this. I want your help,” I state firmly. “I want your resources, your connections. Together, we can dismantle this sick operation and put an end to the suffering these girls endure.”

There’s a momentary silence, and I can almost picture the wheels turning in his head. The Bratva is known for its ruthlessness, but they also value loyalty above all else .

“I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation. But I will need your help. Provide me with any information you have, and together, we can make this right,” he says, his voice dripping with intrigue. “But make no mistake, if you betray me or my organization, there will be consequences.”

I chuckle, the sound carrying through the phone line.

“Very well, Pakhan. I’ll send you everything I have gathered, but remember, time is of the essence. Lives are at stake. You now have my number, Leonid ,“ I reply, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night air. If we want to defeat these fuckers, you’ll have to be willing to get your hands dirty.

There’s a sense of understanding in his voice as he finally speaks.

“Understood. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. What’s your name or am I just supposed to call you Vigilante?” He says, his tone filled with a playful banter now.

I nod, even though he can’t see me. A laugh escapes my lips. “Well, I guess it would help if we were on a first-name basis. The name’s Wes. I look forward to meeting you sooner rather than later.”

With that, I hang up. The connection severed, but the pact made. The path ahead is dangerous, but I’m ready to face it head-on. As I stub out my cigarette and turn back towards the loft, satisfaction courses through my veins.

This is just the beginning.