Chapter Nine

Vladmir

A week later...

“What the hell is wrong with you now, Montana?” Maxim asked as the volatile biker rubbed his hands down his face and groaned.

“Well, let’s see,” the President of the Soulless Sinners replied, leaning back in his chair. “Law is ready to call all his Special Forces buddies and go all Green Beret on this city to find Ace. The FBI has declared Ace Franks a fugitive of the law and is offering a reward for any information regarding his whereabouts. Pippen is balls deep in the ghost files he found, but none of it makes any sense. Reaper’s on my ass for answers on the club connection. No, let me rephrase that. He’s demanding answers like yesterday and threatening to take care of the problem himself if I don’t get off my ass and do something about it. Benson is silent as the fucking night and enjoying his club-FED stay in my mailroom. Popeye is still missing. Apparently, we’re not the only ones looking for this Gray Greer person and yet, no one will say who this fucker is. I’ve got Sinclair sticking his nose in my business and annoying Malice every chance he can get. Bane is off his rocker. Every time the fucker sees me, he rants and throws shit at me, and my wife is fucking pregnant. So, excuse me if I’m not my cheerful, cordial self today.”

Maxim smirked. “So, all is normal over at the Soulless Sinners’ compound.”

Montana scowled, flipping Maxim off, then added, “But you want to know the biggest fucking mystery. My fucking baby brother called out of the blue the other day and ripped my ass a new one. Fucker wouldn’t even let me get a word in edgewise before he fucking hung up on me.”

Standing in the corner, I listened as the two men conversed.

“You know this is just going to be another bitch session, right?”

Nodding, I leaned closer to Mercy. “It always is when you bikers show up.”

“Asshole,” Mercy grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he moved away from me.

“I heard you made an unexpected trip to Oklahoma recently. Why?” Montana asked.

Maxim shrugged. “Just a family matter.”

“You have family in Oklahoma?”

The boss grinned. “I have family everywhere, like you, apparently.”

“Fine,” Montana sneered. “I’ll give you that one. I swear, Max, if my dad wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the fucker myself. From what Pippen can gather in the ghost files, my dad was into some shady shit. I thought him being aligned with the Society was bad enough, but now Pippen found a clear connection to the Trick Pony. Don’t have to tell you how that went down with Malice. Brother damn near lost his fucking mind. And now this bullshit about my great-granddad and the Golden Skulls. I swear, Max, if I learn any of that shit is true, I’m gonna blow ‘cause there is no fucking way I can deal with all my shit and Reaper too.”

“Reaper is a lot to take in,” Maxim agreed.

“He’s a fucking lunatic psycho.”

“That’s true too.”

“Are you just going to sit there and agree with everything I say, because if you are, I can get that shit at my clubhouse?”

Sighing, the boss leaned forward and simply said, “My apologies, Montana, I was just waiting for you to stop talking.”

“Asshole,” Montana grumbled.

“Since you aired your dirty laundry, I will give you something to help ease your mind,” the boss said, taking a quick look at me.

Stiffening, I had no idea what the man was about to say, which was unusual because I always knew. Yet, the way the boss looked at me, I wasn’t too sure.

Bracing for anything, the boss began, “It looks like you are not the only one to stumble upon some mysterious files. I’ve recently acquired some of my own.”

“Russian shit?”

Maxim nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yes.”

“What the fuck is going on here, Max? Trick Pony, my club, and now your shit?”

“Not just mine either,” the boss added. “According to Dmitry, our files also contain information on Satan’s Angels.”

“That’s biker shit,” Montana said, sitting up. “Who gave you those files?”

Maxim Fedorov slowly shook his head. “Not this time, my friend. The person who acquired those files is not only protected by me personally, but that person is also Russian.”

“Got love for you and yours, Fedorov, but I handle all biker shit. You know that. You take care of the Russian shit, and I don’t know who’s holding down the fort on the Italian side. By the way, have they picked a successor yet? It’s been over a year.”

“No, and before you ask, my wife doesn’t know either. The Italians are, if anything, very passionate about choosing the next head Don of the families. After Don Armando Pisano passed away, the Italian families went into a period of mourning.”

“What does Giovanni say?”

“He doesn’t. The man is living the high life on his island with my niece, happy and free from all this drama.”

“Then what the fuck was he doing at the meeting a few weeks ago?”

“From my understanding, he represented the families as a favor.”

Montana shook his head. “Don’t like it, Max. Something is going on. I can feel it. Whatever it is, it’s big and it’s gonna change everything. Don’t know about you, but we just got out of one war, not too happy about stepping into another. Not with this shit piling up.”

“Then you will not like this. There is talk about replacing you at the table. Some leaders feel you are too occupied with your current situation to speak clearly for the Biker Federation. They want to replace you with someone else. Let’s just say, someone more focused and singular minded.”

Montana growled and Mercy groaned. “Oh fuck.”

“If you fucking tell me those bastards are thinking about him, I will fucking lose my shit right now.”

Maxim smirked, folding his hands over his chest. “You must admit, he is a focused individual and the other leaders are not happy with how things went down between the two of you. They don’t want infighting within the Biker Federation.”

“Motherfucker!” Montana roared. “You were there right beside me.”

Maxim nodded. “Yes, I was, but as I’m the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, and Remi, being my goddaughter, they chose to look the other way. As for you, there are many other biker clubs that, shall I say, are more amiable to a peaceful resolution.”

“I want peace!”

“Look, Montana, it’s only talk. You know how this stuff goes. It’s politics of the underworld. Everyone thinks they know best until someone comes up with a better plan. My advice: get a handle on your shit fast. The next summit is this December. They will make their decision then.”

“Well, that went about as well as a root canal,” I said, taking a seat after Montana stormed from the house, cursing up a storm. That man really needed to chill the fuck out.

The boss was right.

It was only politics.

“Why didn’t you tell him that Nikandr confirmed Steele is still alive? He could have helped us on that front.”

“Because Montana isn’t thinking clearly right now. His mind is elsewhere, and if my friend isn’t careful, he’s going to lose more than his seat at the table. Speaking of Steele, have you told Aksana that her stay with us is now indefinite until we can dispense with her soon-to-be-dead husband?”

I sighed. “No.”

“And why not?”

“Because she’s still not talking to me.”

“We don’t have time for these childish games, Vladmir. You brought her to us. You offered her protection. There are still things we don’t know. We can’t do our job unless you do yours. You need to tell her and find out as much as you can, and fast. I can’t execute Steele without probable cause.”

“With what we already have on him, that should be enough for his kill order.”

“It’s not,” Maxim clipped. “The table wants more.”

Frowning, I looked at Maxim and asked, “What exactly are they needing? A written confession?”

“They want to know what the endgame was.”

“She won’t know that information, Maxim,” I clearly said.

Maxim sighed. “I know. That’s why we are going to do this old-school.”

I smirked. “Now that is something I can handle, boss.”

“I thought so. I will leave everything to you then. As soon as it’s done. Let me know.”

Smiling, I got to my feet and left.

After making a few calls, I found Aksana in the kitchen.

The woman was always in the kitchen.

Seeing Katiya in her highchair, I smiled, walking over to the little girl and picked her up. “And how is your day today, little one?”

Her mother ignored me and stood with her back to me, stirring a pot on the stove. She really hadn’t said more than two words to me since she chewed my ass out, though, like Maxim said, she felt awful about it, quickly apologizing the next morning over breakfast.

Since then, the divide between us grew stronger every day.

Of course, my avoidance of the woman didn’t help. Regarding Aksana, I really didn’t know what to say to her. I wasn’t good with feelings or talking about my feelings.

I preferred a more hands-on approach.

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Nothing special. Just spaghetti Bolognese, freshly baked garlic bread, a nicely tossed salad with Panna Cotta for dessert.”

“So then, we can miss it.”

Turning around, the woman frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how about I see if Clara will watch Katiya tonight and you let me take you out to dinner?”

“Why?”

“Because we need to talk, and I’d rather do it in private.”

“So, you want to have a private conversation in a public restaurant with people all around us? That makes perfect sense,” she scoffed.

“I never said there would be people around. I just said dinner.”

Refusing to give her a chance to come up with an excuse to refuse my invitation, I walked out of the kitchen with Katiya in my arms. While her mother may hate being in my presence, Katiya did not.

This little girl enjoyed spending time with me.