Chapter 30

Victor

WITH A flicker of hesitation, I glance at the silent phone, my thumb hovering over the screen.

I’ve never been one to text women, but something about Laura has me reaching for my phone like a fucking teenager.

I type out a message, then delete it just as quickly.

You back safe?

No, that’s not right. Delete.

I try again.

Sorry I wasn’t able to fly back with you…

I scowl at the screen. What the fuck am I apologizing for? I hit delete again, my frustration mounting.

Chert. Why is this so fucking hard!

Don’t wait up, won’t make it home tonight. Got things to handle.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then stare at the screen, waiting for her response. The minutes tick by, the “read” receipt mocking me with each passing second.

She’s leaving me on read? What the fuck?

Hell, it’s not like I need to tell her not to wait up.

I see the typing bubble appear, three little dots that have my heart racing. But then they disappear and still no response.

And now she’s offline.

“Urg!” I grunt, tossing my phone onto the table.

The door to the dingy back room swings open, and Misha strolls in, his eyebrows raised. “Everything alright, boss?

I scowl, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. Just fucking peachy.”

Misha reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty knife. He flips the blade open, the metal glinting in the dim light of the warehouse office. The room is sparse, just a few metal chairs and a battered desk, but it serves its purpose.

He takes a seat, the chair creaking under his weight. “Is this about your ladylove?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I glare at him, my jaw clenching. “She’s not my fucking ladylove.”

I find myself reaching for my phone again, my thoughts drifting back to Laura. I wonder what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about me the way I can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

Yob tvoyu mat’, stop it.

Misha chuckles, lighting up a cigarette. “Could’ve fooled me, boss. You’ve been checking your phone every five seconds like a lovesick puppy.”

I’m about to retort when Ksenia strides in, her heels tapping against the concrete floor. “If you two are done gossiping like schoolgirls, don’t waste my time.”

I lean back in my chair, grateful for the change in topic. “How’s the old man?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Ksenia sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Not dead, but he’s been acting weird.”

I frown. “Weird how?”

“Like he’s a real grandfather all of a sudden,” she says. “He’s been spending a lot of time with Eli, teaching her chess and telling her stories about the old days.”

I mull that over, a strange feeling settling in my chest.

“The old man’s going soft,” I sneer.

Misha clears his throat, bringing me back to the topic at hand. “Speaking of soft,” he says, his tone turning serious. “Dave’s still in the freezer, naked as the day he was born.”

I nod, my mind already racing with the possibilities. “Good. Let him stew for a bit longer. I want him to understand the pain, to feel it in his bones.”

Ksenia arches a brow. “And then what? You’re just going to let him go?”

I scoff. “Fuck no. But I want him broken before I end him. I want him to spill every last secret he has, to give up every person he’s ever worked with.”

Misha grins, a manic twist of his lips that promises violence. “And then we’ll make an example of him. Show everyone what happens when you cross the Bratva.”

I nod, my own smile just as vicious. “Exactly. Rats don’t die easily, but they do die. And when we’re done with Dave, there won’t be enough left of him to fill a fucking thimble.”

“So, why am I here, brother?”my sister asks.

I pull out the red ledger, the leather cover worn and faded.

I slide it across the table to Ksenia, my eyes never leaving her face.

“This is why I asked you to come today.”

Ksenia leans forward, her eyes widening with a predatory gleam. She reaches over, plucking a cigarette from the pack sitting in front of Misha. He’s already got his lighter out, the flame flicking to life as she leans in, casting shadows across her sharp features. Her gaze is locked on the pages, scanning each line with a hunger I recognize all too well.

“Well, well, well,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a smirk. “Looks like our dear friend Vasiliev has been a busy boy.”

I lean back in my chair. “He’s got half the fucking city in his pocket. Judges, politicians, even the goddamn chief of police.”

Misha whistles lowly. “With that kind of firepower, he could make our lives very difficult.”

Ksenia nods, her eyes still glued to the ledger. “He’s been funneling money through shell companies, using them to buy off anyone who might stand in his way.”

I watch her as she takes a drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling from her lungs. “And now we know exactly who those people are.”

“We could use this, boss. Squeeze them until they fucking squeal.” Misha grins, flipping his knife in the air and catching it by the handle.

I smile, my mind already racing with possibilities. “We’ll start with the judges. Find out which ones are on his payroll and make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

Ksenia looks up, her eyes glinting with malice. “And the ones who refuse?”

I shrug,absently tapping the phone against my hand, waiting for that damn message to finally show up.

Suka, don’t get distracted!

I tilt my head, eyes locking on him, already thinking through my next steps. “Accidents happen. It would be a shame if something were to happen to their pretty little families.”

Misha chuckles darkly. “I like the way you think, boss.”

I steeple my fingers, my mind whirring with plans and contingencies. “We hit him where it hurts. His supply lines, his distribution centers. We choke off his revenue streams until he has no choice but to come crawling to us.”

Misha nods, flicking ash from his cigarette. “And then we take him out, once and for all.”

I meet his gaze, my resolve hardening. “No more games, no more dancing around each other. We end this, and we end it now.”

Ksenia sits back, a slow smile spreading across her face. She takes one last drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out, the embers dying with a final hiss.

“I have a better idea.”

She pulls out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. She brings it to her ear, her expression turning cold and calculating.

“It’s me,” she says, her voice like ice. “I have something you want. The red ledger. Every dirty little secret your boss has been hiding.”

There’s a pause, and then she laughs, the sound sharp and brittle. “Oh, I’m sure you would. But I’m not in the habit of giving things away for free.”

She listens for a moment, her smile turning predatory. “Here’s the deal. You give us back our cargo, and we’ll consider not using this ledger to burn your entire operation to the ground.”

Another pause, longer this time. Ksenia’s fingers tap impatiently against the table.

“And a hundred million in cash, delivered to a location of our choosing. You have five days to comply, or we start making calls. I’m sure the feds would be very interested in what we have to say.”