Chapter Eighteen

Vladmir

“They ain’t takin’ my boy, King!”

“No one is taking Banks,” King groaned, trying to untie the multitude of knots the kid used to secure his ass to King’s chair. “And for your information, Banks is mine. He’s not yours, yet.”

Standing against the wall, shaking my head, I watched while King, Reaper, and Maxim squared off with a very angry and insolent child. Any other time and I would have thought it funny that a smart-mouthed seven-year-old bested three major players in the underworld, but I was in no mood for theatrics. Someone out there wanted my wife and her daughter, and until they were safe, I refused to stand down.

“Then why are they here? And for your information, I’m not talking about the Knuckle Dragger. I’m talking about my boy, Kai!” the kid snarled, glaring at Maxim, who had a grin on his face like he was enjoying the situation.

Reaper, who sat off to the side with his feet on the table, laughed. “The kid has a point, King.”

King growled, frustrated, working on another knot. “He’s a pain in the ass, and when I get him untied, I’m going to whip his ass.”

“Oh, come on, King,” Gunner spoke up. “Carnage is only trying to protect Banks. You can’t punish him for that.”

“No, but I can beat someone’s ass for getting him involved!” the president of the Sons of Hell snarked angrily. “Who the hell told him about this shit? You know how he gets.”

Gunner shrugged his shoulders. “You know the kid. He’s got his nose to the ground. He could have heard that shit anywhere. Besides, with Carnage on Banks’ side, no one is gonna make him go where he doesn’t want to go.”

“If I can’t get him untied, I’m going to hand him over to Maxim instead!” King retorted.

“Enough of this.” I groaned, reaching into my pocket and removing my knife. Walking over to the kid, I kneeled before him and started cutting through the rope.

“I understand you only want to protect Nikoli, but you are just a child. This matter has nothing to do with you.”

Several men groaned.

“Uh,” Frank piped up. “I wouldn’t call my little buddy that. He doesn’t like it.”

“Seriously, dude,” Enigma quickly added. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!”

Gunner chuckled. “Now you’ve done it.”

Even King took a step back and muttered, “Maxim, how fond are you of Vladmir?”

“Very fond. Why?” my boss said as I continued to cut the rope.

“Then you better put a protection detail on him because Cameron is the master at subterfuge. I’m talking full-on mayhem.”

Reaper threw his head back, roaring with laughter.

“King’s right, Fedorov. This menace to society bested his whole damn club. They are still recovering.”

“But he’s just a kid,” Maxim countered, frowning as he took a better look at the tyrant, who had said nothing more when I cut him loose. However, when I looked at him, I could see the wheels of retribution spinning in his wild, crazy eyes.

“There,” I declared, standing. “Now, can we get down to business?”

The kid slowly stood and walked right over to me.

Unafraid and with balls of steel, the kid simply said, “Sleep with one eye open, Russian. Your day is coming.”

With that, the little shit marched his ass out of the office.

“And no one knows who this mystery guy is?” King asked, looking around the table.

“No,” I said. “All we know is he is Malice’s twin, and if the guy is correct, he’s the older twin.”

“Bet Malice loved that.” Reaper smirked.

“Let’s just say he wasn’t happy about it,” my boss added.

“So, what am I looking at here?” King asked. “Because while I got mad respect for all of you, my club isn’t exactly the biggest in the biker club world. If you’re looking for manpower, you should have taken Aksana back to Luc and the brothers of Disturbed. Only a few of my brothers have military training. Disturbed consists of all former military special forces and more.”

“Don’t need manpower, King,” Reaper stated. “Just need a safe place for Aksana and her daughter to hide. You’ve provided that once before and no one was the wiser. We’re hoping that whoever is looking for them knows nothing about this place. Plus, you will have my Tennessee Chapter close by for backup.”

Leaning back in his chair, King nodded. “Works for me. Now for full disclosure. When you guys called, I started doing some digging of my own. Like I said, the Sons of Hell are a small club by most standards, so it’s rather easy for us to slide under the radar. So, I sent one of my brothers to do some digging and what he found out was interesting. Apparently, all these mysterious files that have been dropping out of the sky weren’t a coincidence. Whoever is behind them planned everything out, down to a specific date and time.”

“How do you mean?” Maxim asked, sitting up straighter.

“It seems the Bratva and the Soulless Sinners were not the only ones who received coded files. According to my brother, Cesare Vitale, the head of the Italian Mafia, received similar files. And the files Ace retrieved from the Trick Pony not only held information regarding the club’s members but also Harbor Security.”

“That makes no sense. Harbor Security has nothing to do with the criminal underground. They are legit business owners,” Maxim stated.

“Yeah, but Law and his team are former special forces. They worked for the government before going to the private sector. They have in the past worked alongside each of you,” King added logically, then sighed, looking at his brothers, Gunner and Pyro, who both nodded before saying, “And you should also know, I received a file too, right before you all showed up. It’s not much. Only concerning me and my involvement in Valentino Valentinetti’s death and Shane Keller’s death.”

Sliding the file toward Reaper, King sat back in his chair.

“Someone out there knows all our dirty secrets and my gut is telling me shit is about to get really interesting.”

Leaning forward, I asked, “Has your brother found out anything else?”

“Ask him yourself,” King said when the door opened and in walked a brother with long golden blond hair, wearing board shorts and a tie-dyed shirt. He looked nothing like any biker I knew. In fact, he looked more ready to surf the waves than anything else. To make things more interesting, Antonio Valentinetti was with him.

“Antonio?” Maxim sat up. “What are you doing here?”

“This includes my family, too. Gio’s not happy. He’s on a plane as I speak. It’s bad, Max. Really bad.”

“Everyone, my brother Scribe,” King introduced as the man took a seat next to Gunner. “So, what’s the 4-1-1?”

The hippie biker got straight to the point. “Valentinetti is right. It isn’t good, King. Files have gone out worldwide. I’m talking about the IRA, the Mexican Cartel, even the Triad. And it’s not just the criminal underworld. Everyone who has had any dealings with the Golden Skulls has received a file.”

All eyes turned to Reaper, who growled. “Say that again?”

Scribe nodded, throwing a hefty file on the table. “It’s all there. I gathered as much information as I could. Everyone who received a file has, at one point or another, had dealings with the Golden Skulls.”

Shaking his head, Reaper cursed. “I’m not fucking doing this shit again. I won’t. I promised my wife. I swear to fucking God, Maxim, if someone out there is trying to bring me back into the fucking fold, I will lose my shit and fucking kill everyone. Mark my words. I will do it. FUCK!”

Reaching for the file, I opened it as Maxim and King tried to calm Reaper down when my phone rang. Reaching into my suit pocket, I saw Bane’s number on the screen.

Connecting the call, I said, “Not a good time, Bane.”

“Make time,” the cranky doctor snarked. “I got the results of Aksana’s blood work.”

“And?”

“She is Amy’s daughter. Aksana is my niece.”

“As you already suspected, so why aren’t you telling Aksana this?”

“Because she’s not George Stone’s daughter, Vladimir. She’s Malice’s half-sister. Which means her father was Devlin Scott.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, stunned. “Can you repeat that?”

“Aksana’s biological father is Devlin Scott. And the reason I’m calling you and not Aksana is because I got the medical files from when Aksana was at Birmingham Memorial. I know who Katiya’s father is, Vladmir. It’s you. You are Katiya’s biological father. From what I can piece together, this Mr. Ess, who Aksana remembered hearing that day, somehow acquired your DNA and forced Dr. Trent Blackstock to artificially inseminate Aksana. For what reason, I don’t know, but, Vladmir, someone out there is playing Russian roulette with all our lives. Find this motherfucker fast, kill them, and keep my niece safe.”

I sat there stunned, looking at my phone, unable to say a word when Bane disconnected the call.

It was impossible.

It had to be a mistake.

I never, not once willingly donated my sperm. I always wore a condom when I was with a woman. After Nina, I refused to put myself or anyone else in that position again. There was no fucking way. Yet, I believed Bane. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. But it had to be a mistake.

I didn’t even know Aksana back then.

What would this person gain by doing this? They had to know it wouldn’t end well for them when the truth came out.

“Vladimir?” I vaguely heard Maxim say my name while my gaze moved between my phone and the file before me, when something caught my eye.

Moving my phone, I read.

Subject: Vladmir Ivenok. Two Spies to the Russian Pakhan, Maxim Fedorov. Brother, Mikhail Vaidisova. Biological father to Remi Anderson and Katiya James.

“Scribe?” I whispered, never taking my eyes off the file. “Where did you get this information?”

“From an old friend of mine. He’s good with computers. Why?”

“What is his name?”

“Why?” the brother cautiously asked as I jumped to my feet, slamming my hands on the table and roared,

“WHAT IS HIS NAME!”

Scribe looked at King, who nodded before saying, “Kyle. His name is Kyle Kreuger, also goes by the name Oracle.”

“Why is that name familiar?” Reaper muttered mainly to himself when Maxim asked.

“Vladmir, what’s going on?”

Shoving the file toward my boss, I stated, “I never told anyone about Mikhail. How does this fucker know unless he’s the one behind it all?”

Reaper looked at the file and frowned. “You have a brother?”

“Had,” I snarled. “Baranov killed him before I could extricate him.”

“Vladmir, this file says you’re Katiya’s father?” Maxim questioned.

I nodded. “Bane just called and confirmed everything. And George Stone isn’t Aksana’s father. Devlin Scott is. She’s Malice’s half-sister.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Reaper asked, taking a seat. “Everything stems from the Trick Pony. Just what in the ever-loving fuck was going on in that shithole?”

That was the million-dollar question I wanted answered, along with how my wife and daughter got mixed up in all this, and that was when I remembered with distinct clarity the very first conversation I ever had with Aksana.

That fucking bitch lied!