Chapter Six

A week later, Medpark International Hospital, Chisinau, Moldova...

“Destul! I’ve had enough of this hospital bed. You’re all treating me as if I am a frail old woman who had a heart attack.” Zafira resolutely pushed off the covers and swung her legs over the side.

“No, you didn’t have a heart attack, but you are frail. Don’t give me that look. You’re malnourished, Mam?, which will lead to a heart attack, diabetes, or who knows what!” Vanya’s attempt to physically push her mother back into the bed was futile as Zafira slapped her hands away.

“Blyad’, Vanya! I’m a grown woman and your mother. You are not going to tell me what to do. I am going home. Now. Today, and no one is going to stop me.” She pointed at the hulk of a man who leaned negligently against the door, watching them with amusement. “You brought muscle man for naught. Not even he is going to keep me in bed.”

“Well, now that sounds like a challenge, and one I’m more than happy to oblige.” His voice sounded calm and filled with ridicule, forcing her furious gaze to slap onto his Goliath frame. “That is if Vanya is willing to leave. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass my daughter-in-law by begging me to get under the sheets with—”

“One more word from you, Bogdan Rusu... just one and I’ll... I’ll...”

Vanya stared at her mom wide-eyed. It was the first time the monarch of the family was at a loss for words. Not only that but her cheeks were also blistered with a rosy glow. Blushing! Zafira Guzun had never done either of those.

“Yeah? You’ll what? Chase me away again? Good luck with that.” He crossed his arms. “Or did you forget, Ms. Guzun? I don’t work for you. In fact, I am nothing to you.” A tender smile crossed his face as he glanced at Vanya. “Well, apart from sharing a daughter with you and future grandchildren.” His eyes turned dark. “Them I will protect with every fiber in my being... even against you, if it ever came to that.”

“You svoloch”! How dare you insinuate that I would ever hurt my own daughter or her—”

“Okay, that’s quite enough,” Vanya interjected quickly. “If you two want to wash your dirty laundry, I suggest you do so in private before your torrid affair is slathered across every tabloid in the country.”

“Rusu is the last man on earth with whom I’d have a torrid affair!”

“I have no interest in an affair with this heartless woman, torrid or otherwise.”

The two responses bombarded Vanya from both sides simultaneously. She hid a delighted smile. Her instincts about them had been spot on. Her mother had been slowly withering away ever since Bogdan had left. The haunting look she had seen in his eyes was proof that he also hadn’t been happy in Tampa. It was time they set the record straight. One way or the other, they had to find each other.

Vanya wasn’t going to rest until she found a way to light the fire between them that had been simmering for as far back as she could remember.

The parking lot, Medpark International Hospital, Chisinau, Moldova...

A shadow in the fading twilight, the man moved with the practiced grace of a cat. His silhouette blended into the surrounding darkness, allowing him to move unnoticed on the rooftop of the building across the street from the hospital. He was dressed in black, his clothing blending perfectly with the shadows.

“Ahh, there you are,” he all but cooed as his sharp gaze caught the movement just inside the swivel door. “So, my sources were accurate. Zafira Guzun is in hospital. How quaint and appropriate. Now they can just take you straight to the morgue while your soul joins your useless husband in hell.” The words echoed through the air from thinly pressed lips. “Odio, cazzo the Guzuns! So, fucking much!”

Settling onto his stomach, he placed the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, adjusting the stock for comfort. His gloved hands gripped the firearm with steady precision as his finger curled lightly on the trigger. Forcing his breathing to slow, he prepared to take aim.

Luciano Maranzano’s gaze was sharp through narrowed eyes as he scanned the target area using the rifle’s scope. His mind was calm and focused, a stark contrast to the tense anticipation that seemed to hum in the air. He adjusted the scope slightly, aligning the crosshairs with his chosen target. Usually, he would have appointed an assassin for the task, but after what the Guzuns and Andrei Balan, who now apparently changed his name to Rusu, had done to him, he didn’t trust anyone. More than that, he wanted the satisfaction of being the one to snuff out their last breaths... one after the other. Starting with the Matriarch of the family.

He waited, allowing the world to fall still around him. The distant sounds of the city faded, leaving only the soft whisper of the midday breeze. Time seemed to stretch as he prepared to take the shot. The weight of the moment hung in the air. The door swiveled open, and as he had seen many times before, the Goliath, Bogdan Rusu, hovered over Zafira, protecting her from harm with his humongous body.

With a final, controlled breath, Luciano gazed through the scope.

“No... they have to suffer first. Fuck what he wants. I’m not doing Zafira first. She must go last. That’s what I want. For every single Guzun to suffer the loss I had to with my grandfather and father at their hands. And once they are broken and vulnerable, it’ll be their turn.” His face hardened. “Not to mention what that fucking Andrei did to me.” He cringed at the memory of the furious man cutting off his manhood. Shaking off the depression that threatened to pull him under, he peered at his target one more time. “No, they have to suffer.” Decision made, his finger relaxed from the trigger as he moved the scope to gaze at Vanya who followed behind her mother.

“Now, what do we have here?” A delighted laugh exploded from his lips. “The bitch is breeding! Oh, now, isn’t that just perfect? Andrei Rusu, it’s going to be such a pleasure to make you suffer.” A cruel seed took root in his mind. “You’re not only going to mourn the loss of your lovely wife, Rusu. You’re going to regret the day you ever met me.” He remained still for a moment, watching the three people climb into a black GMC SUV. Only once the convoy of four cars moved out of sight did he rise and dismantle his rifle.

“Finally, I have found a way to make Andrei Rusu pay for what he did to me. And believe me, you bastard, you’ll suffer for as long as you breathe air.”

A luxury yacht in the Black Sea, one-hundred-and-fifty miles off the Romanian coast...

“What do you mean you decided she has to die last?” The anger in the man’s voice wasn’t suppressed well. In fact, he made no effort to hide the irritation from Luciano Maranzano. He was beginning to realize more and more that he had made a mistake in trusting the Sicilian mobster to take orders. As a once god-like Don of the Mafia, he didn’t abide well to conforming to the wishes of others. The fact that he had orchestrated and prepared his own escape from imprisonment should’ve been warning enough.

Even though he didn’t have full access to the cash he had stashed across the globe, he had enough power and support to still garner a force majeure event—the one thing that no one wanted at this point, at least not until they had achieved their goal. Zafira Guzun was situating herself in a position to ride the wave of success on the foundation of what the Maranzanos had been building for years—global power. It was little wonder that Luciano was so furious and willing to do anything to stop her and her family from attaining what was rightfully his birthright.

A sly smile turned the man’s lips askew. Well, in truth, the Maranzanos couldn’t lay such a claim... the birthright could be claimed by anyone with criminal intent. In the end, the accolade would go to the one who rose above the rest. Who had the foresight, the money, and the will to succeed.

Like he did, and no one was going to stand in his way. Not Zafira Guzun and sure as hell not Luciano Maranzano. If the Sicilian refused to follow his orders, he would be the first to walk with the fish, wearing concrete boots. He might have been an ally over the years, but loyalty would only survive if he conformed and realized he didn’t have the power he did in the past. A shift had happened while Luciano had been wallowing in self-pity in Estonia.

There was a bigger, crueler, and much more dangerous shark swimming in the waters now.

“You heard me. I have a much better plan in store for the Guzuns.” Maranzano resolutely cut him short before he could voice the words rising to his lips. “Don’t worry, my friend, what I intend will not only cripple the Guzuns as a whole, but it will also leave Zafira Guzun in ashes. By the time she and her family recover from the shock and horror of what I am going to do, we will already be fully cemented in the position as leaders of global crime.”

“If you’re naive to believe that I will sit back and allow you to make decisions, you don’t know me that well, Luciano. I have too much riding on this to watch Zafira Guzun walk away scot-free. Either you do what I told you to do, or I will find someone who will. You’ve been playing a cat-and-mouse game with them for years. I sat back watching, but my patience has run out. The time has come to take control. You can walk the path of success with me, or you can happily hop and skip after the Guzuns until your heart’s content, but Zafira Guzun won’t be one of them. I want her out of the way, Luciano. That is not negotiable, nor is it your decision to decide when she dies.”

“You’re the naive one if you believe the Guzun Bratva will come to an end should she and her three children die. They have the strongest and most loyal following. Nothing will change. Someone else will step up and continue. Either we cripple them as is my intent so that the entire organization crumbles and comes tumbling down around them, or you can go ahead. Kill Zafira and her brood. Proof will be in the pudding, my friend. You will see that I am right.” Luciano cracked a laugh. “My guess is that you already know that. You’re too clever not to have done your homework. Me being the assassin isn’t going to change the outcome. Now... are we going to do it my way, or are you happy to fail before you begin?”

“What is your way exactly, Luciano?”

“A flash of brilliance, my friend,” he preened as he briefly explained the devious plan that had been growing proportionally since the seed had taken root.

“You’re right,” the man’s voice darkened as glee flowed through him. Maranzano had indeed come up with a master plan. He dragged lazily on the cigar, enjoying the calming effect as the nicotine filled his lungs. His eyes followed the white whiff of smoke circling above him before it dissipated into the night. “Very well, but I want to be involved in every step you take. Finalize the details, Luciano. We’ll meet in two weeks to discuss the way forward.”

“Where?”

“You know the drill. I’ll send you the coordinates. Make sure you’re in Budapest two weeks from today, Luciano.”

“Why the fuck there?” he snapped irritably. “You know how difficult it is for me to travel across borders. In case you forgot, there’s a worldwide manhunt out for me.”

“I didn’t, but neither did I forget how clever you are with disguises. Pull one out of the bag, Luciano... like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. I have faith in you. You can do it.”

“Fuck you! This isn’t a movie—”

Flinging the stub of the cigar overboard, he summarily ended the call. He had no patience to debate the issue with Maranzano. An order had been given. It was time he realized just who swung the scepter in this saga.