by Nicole Fox
“The Balduccis have been steadily gaining ground,” Yakov says. “If we don’t come up with something, our only other choice is to get the fuck out of the city. I’m not going to let my family be gunned down by some Balducci thugs.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say. I wish I felt as confident as I sound.
My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. It’s the burner; Lynna is the only one with the number.
“Excuse me,” I say. I walk to the kitchen before answering. “Lynna? Is everything okay?”
“It’s not Lynna. It’s me.”
A thousand emotions in my chest are magnified by Cassie’s voice, but I can’t set them free—not in the same house that my lieutenants are in right now and certainly not in front of Cassie.
“I can’t talk to you right now,” I say. “I’m busy trying to clean up Gianluigi’s mess.”
“Well, there’s a more important mess he’s made,” she says. “He’s taken Lily.”
“What do you mean he’s taken Lily?” I demand.
“He kidnapped her. Right in front of me. He told me that he wants to use her against you because he’s seen you hanging out with her.”
I go around the corner and indicate to Borislav. He stands up, walking toward me.
“Cassie, I’m sending some soldiers your way. You’re at Lynna’s, right?”
“No. I left. I’m at my apartment. Maksim—”
“I’m sending soldiers there. Don’t leave.”
I hang up. I turn to Borislav and start arranging Cassie’s protection. My brain is burning as it tries to reconfigure all of my previous plans to accommodate for this new information. But only one thing will save both of my girls and all of the men in the Bratva.
“After that’s done, we’re meeting up with Gianluigi,” I say. He raises an eyebrow, but nods. He knows better than to question me when I’m ready to tear apart the earth to get what I want.
He doesn’t know that there’s no time to waste trying to think of a better strategy. I have no intention of leaving the girl I now consider to be my daughter with a sadistic narcissist like Gianluigi for a second longer. I’ll give myself up to get Lily safe. It may be the first time I’ve gone straight to the center of hell for someone other than myself.
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn, boss—” Genrikh says.
“Then don’t,” I cut in.
He stares up at the Peninsula’s Orchard, the Balducci restaurant. “It’s a very abrupt decision.”
“It’s been a long time coming.”
We walk into the restaurant. It’s empty except for Gianluigi, his five lieutenants, and his lawyer—Eric Clarke, the lawyer who helped him give away Lily. I sit down across from Gianluigi while my remaining four lieutenants and the Bratva lawyer circle around me.
Gianluigi pushes a stack of paper in front of me. “Should I check you for a wire?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that,” I say. “Especially with what’s at stake.”
He nods. “Good. The agreement states that you, Maksim Akimov, are willing to hand over your life in exchange for Lily’s. You will also turn over any and all of the Bratva’s resources.”
“I have an amendment to add,” I say, setting a stack of paper on top of Gianluigi’s contract. “First, my men will be left alone—no violent acts may be committed against them or anyone closely associated with them. Second, Lily will be turned over to Cassandra Balducci. Both of them will be financially supported and given the same respect as your men give you. As soon as Lily is confirmed to be safe with Cassandra, I will agree to your terms.”
In the city, a Mafia leader can’t retain power without being able to keep his word. If Gianluigi breaks his word, nobody—not the gunrunners, not the drug dealers, not the goddamn corrupt police officers and judges—will work with him. These agreements likely will never see the light of day. It’s a formality. The more binding factor here is the witnesses. If they see a double-crossing leader, all claims of loyalty become just as disposable as the broken contract.
My men will have their doubts about how willing I am to turn over all of my power to Gianluigi, but they will consider me worthless if I break my deal with him. And the same applies to Gianluigi and his men.
It doesn’t matter. Gianluigi wouldn’t have made this deal if he thought I was going to break it. I sign his contract while he signs mine. It’s easier than I thought it would be. I’ve been circling around cemeteries my whole life. My parents, Natalie, Ravil, too many of my men—death is a constant companion. I have spent a lifetime focusing on survival, on thriving on my own, but now I know there’s more to life than staying alive as long as possible.
Gianluigi indicates to his lawyer. Eric Clarke disappears into the restaurant’s kitchen. A few seconds pass by before he comes back out, with Lily at his side. I stand up. As she passes by, I grab her hand. Her eyes are full of a quiet understanding—she knows she’s in the middle of a caustic environment and that everything is going to change soon.
Hopefully, it will change for the better.
She mouths my name. I don’t say anything back. In Clarke’s hands, she disappears out of the restaurant. I sit back down. Gianluigi suggests a last meal, his expression betraying a suppressed joy. I reject his suggestion.
When Gianluigi’s phone rings, the room goes silent. He puts it on speakerphone.
“Lily is with Cassandra,” Eric Clarke says. His voice sounds slightly muffled as he turns away from the phone. “Tell them that you have Lily.”
“Hello?” Cassie says. Her voice nearly shatters me. It will be the last time I hear it. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just calling to make sure Lily arrived safely,” Gianluigi says. “You have her?”
“Yes,” Cassie says, her tone full of hesitation.
“Good.” He hangs up. He turns to me. “Good enough?”
“If you break your word—”
“If I break my word, we both know what will happen. Everything you just gave me will become worthless. I’ll keep my word. Now, you keep yours. We’re going to take a drive.”
As Gianluigi stands up with me, I see the glint of his gun. Even without it, he’d have all of the power right now. I gave it all up the moment I signed those papers. My lieutenants each pat my shoulder as I follow Gianluigi out. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s one last moment of the respect I fought from the streets to the top of the food chain to earn. It should break me, but for once, I’m at peace.
Now that I know Cassie and Lily are safe, I’m ready to walk straight to my death.
23
Cassandra
As soon as Eric Clarke closes the door behind him, I turn around, kneeling beside Lily. I take her hands.
“Are you okay?” I ask, scrutinizing her face. She squeezes my fingers.
“Is Mr. Maksim in trouble?” she asks. I glance over at Lynna. She insisted on staying with me after hearing my phone call with Maksim. She tried to act like it was because she thought being with me was the easiest way for her to find out what was going on with Maksim, but I know on some level, we’ve connected over our choice of lovers.
In my living room, her two kids have turned my couch cushions into a fort. Every couple of minutes, they burst into giggles. Lynna gives me a small shrug. I turn back to Lily.
“What happened?” I ask “Did you see Maksim?”
She nods enthusiastically. “He was at the restaurant with Grandpa. They were sitting at a table with a bunch of men. It looked like they were reading papers.”
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. I glance at her. “Forget you heard that. I need to take care of this,” I say, standing up. My temple feels like it’s pulsing. “I can’t just leave you here.”
“Cassandra,” Lynna says gently. “Just leave her with me.”
I run my hands over my hair, pretending to smooth over any rebellious strands. Since Maksim called, Lynna has been a great ally. But both of the times I looked away from my daughter, she was taken from
me. It doesn’t help that Lynna is a grieving widow and my father killed her husband.
“Cassandra.” Lynna takes my hand, her hands surprisingly warm. “Maksim clearly cares about this girl. I’ll take care of her. Besides, I have two boys. I’d love a little time with a girl.”
I grab her arm, gently squeezing it and hoping she can feel my gratitude. “Thank you, Lynna. I have to get to Maksim’s house. If this was a Mafia contract, all his lieutenants would have been at the restaurant. They would be bound by the contract. But any one of his employees wouldn’t be. Do you think there would be any soldiers at the house?”
“If there is, there will only be one or two,” she says. “You’re going to recruit their help. Smart.”
“I’m trying. I have to be.” I quickly kiss Lily’s forehead. “I’ll explain everything to you later. Okay? I’ll be back. I swear, I’ll be back.”
I run out the door. There’s a string pulling me back toward Lily and another one pulling me toward Maksim. It’s hell, having to choose, but I’m willing to go through hell right now to save them both.
Running straight into the mansion, Katia barely has time to catch me before I’m halfway to the library. There’s a dash of anger lowering her eyebrows, but as she takes in my face, it’s replaced by rising fear.
“What happened?” she asks. “Is Maksim okay?”
I shake my head. “We have to gather everyone here. Are any soldiers guarding this place?”
“Just one. Avgar.”
“Get him,” I order. I run past her, finding the various employees inside the house. I don’t think at all—I see them, I tell them to meet me in the library, and I search for more. For the most part, Maksim’s employees stayed under the radar while I lived here—if I saw them in the mansion, it was a sliver of them before they disappeared into a room, turned around a corner, or became veiled by the darkness of the hallways.
When I get back to the library, twelve people are waiting to hear from me. Avgar is there, easily identified by his rigid posture and the semiautomatic rifle. I give them a summary of what has happened. “I need every single one of you to save him,” I say. “But if I’m going alone, I need to know now.”
Nearly a minute passes by without anyone saying anything. I look at each of them, my gaze steady. I know if they all refuse to help me, my actions will remain the same. I will track down Maksim. I will do what it takes to save him. I am certain it is the right choice. It would simply have a higher chance of success if I had help.
Katia steps forward. “What do you need us to do?”
“Anyone who knows how to shoot will need a gun.”
Katia smirks at me. “Cassandra, we’re in the Bratva. We all know how to shoot a gun.”
She indicates toward the other employees. Several of them go up the stairs to get guns. The rest wait for me to give another command. They’re waiting for me to tell them where we’re heading, but I haven’t figured out where my father and Maksim are. They wouldn’t stay in the restaurant. My father would want to torture or kill Maksim and that wouldn’t be done in his restaurant.
I have to get in my father’s head.
My father is driven by malice. One of my first memories is when I was five or six. We had some young new neighbors and my father didn’t think they gave him a proper amount of respect. After the husband died—in hindsight, suspiciously, in a robbery—my father slowly tore apart the wife’s mental health with a constant barrage of reminders of her husband. He mentioned her husband every time he passed her, about how sad it was that he died alone. He found out what their wedding song was and played it constantly in the front yard. I remember the wife confronting him about his harassment and accusing him of leaving photos of her husband’s dead body in her mailbox. He claimed he didn’t know what she was talking about.
I have no idea what happened to her, other than the fact that she left her house shortly after that.
As Maksim’s employees gather weapons, that memory plays over and over in my head. My father won’t just torture or kill Maksim anywhere. He’ll want to cause maximum damage. He’ll want to kill Maksim in a place that will trigger Maksim’s worst memory.
“Let’s head to the cars,” I say. “We need to go to Natalie’s grave.”
Katia gives me the first selection for a gun. I choose the S&W 9mm. We drive to the cemetery in six separate cars with Katia joining me in my car. As we approach the cemetery, I see my father’s black SUV.
I park my car. The line of cars behind Katia and me stops as well. I open my car door, getting out slowly. I indicate to the others, gesturing for quiet and caution. I creep closer to the cemetery, the incline feeling annoyingly steep while I’m trying to remain low. At first, all that’s visible is the top of the gravestones.
Then, the top of my father’s head.
Then, the gun in his hand aimed downward.
Then, a gravestone engraved with chamomile flowers.
And, as if the gun is an arrow, it points to Maksim’s head as he kneels in front of the headstone.
As I’m about to lunge forward, Katia’s fingertips dig into my shoulder, pushing me back as she lurches up in my place. The sound of a gunshot echoes in the cemetery as she shoots to our left. The man she shot sounds like a broken snare drum as he collapses. In my tunnel vision, I hadn’t noticed my father’s men—his five lieutenants, I assume—but they all notice us as Katia shifts her aim and I hear Maksim’s other employees running to join us.
Growing up in my household, I regarded violence as uncontrollable chaos, but as the sound of gunfire breaks out and Maksim’s employees crowd around me, their shots are as precise as Katia boasted they would be. We approach closer and closer to my father and Maksim, dodging behind headstones as the shots go off. It’s the opposite of chaos. We’re a single unit with a single-minded objective.
When I peek over the headstone, Maksim and my father have vanished. Scenarios unfold in my head like one of those origami fortune tellers.
Scenario 1: My father is simply hiding him behind one of the headstones. He’s still at gunpoint.
Scenario 2: Maksim was shot by my father or one of his men. They dragged him away as a bargaining chip.
Scenario 3: Maksim was shot by friendly fire. He’s fallen behind one of the other bodies.
He wouldn’t have run away. It’s not who he is. But he could be injured. I need to find him.
“Cover me!” I tell Katia. She nods once before I sprint over to a long headstone, marking the resting place of Daniel and Katherine Chalus. A dead body bleeds out onto the grass a couple of feet in front of me. Not him. I still don’t see Maksim. Frustrated, I shift away from the headstone, shooting at one of my father’s men. It hits him in the abdomen. He jerks backward, falling onto his back.
I check back on Maksim’s staff before looking forward again.
My brain registers the sight of a gun pointed at me like it would register any other inevitable occurrence—oh, my foot missed the step, I’m going to fall; oh, I said something to my partner that I can never take back; oh, I wasn’t careful enough staying behind a headstone, I’m going to die. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes, but I get a jolting realization that there are things I never told Lily or Maksim that I need to tell them.
I love you. If you forgive me, I won’t ever disappoint either of you again.
I move around the headstone, charging forward. It’s a mistake. It’s my fight instinct triumphing over my self-preservation instinct. I’m still in range of the gunman.
The gunshot goes off. I promise myself I’ll stay alive long enough to tell Maksim I love him and tell him to tell Lily the same thing.
I fall onto my stomach, but the only pain is the rock digging into my abdomen. I raise my head to see the shooter crumpled on the ground. Before I can move farther forward, a large hand grabs onto my ankle, pulling me so quickly and roughly that the rock under me cuts against my stomach.
I spin around, getting onto my back swiftly enough that I take my
attacker by surprise when I stomp at his arm. He jerks his arm back, but his other hand grabs the front of my shirt, plucking me up, so I’m hidden behind the headstone.
I stare straight at Maksim, absorbing his body heat and his intensity.
When we kiss, it’s inconvenient, it’s rough, and it’s unruly, but every time our lips collide, it’s better than the last time. It’s relief. It’s the realization that our lives could end at any moment. It’s gratitude. And it’s love.
He pulls away from me, but his hand remains on the back of my head, his fingers slipped in between the strands of my hair.
“You should have stayed safe,” he says, but his voice isn’t angry.
“I’m your wife,” I say. “I go where you go.”
A pistol is in his hand, resting against his thigh. I realize he must have shot the man aiming for me and when he disappeared, he must have been getting a gun from a corpse.
“Are you ready?” he asks, kissing me quickly on the cheek.
“Ready,” I echo.
Being in a firefight with Maksim is significantly different from being alone. I’m never worried about myself. I know he has my back. There are fleeting moments of concern for him, but his confidence is a weapon all on its own.
I am madly in love with this man.
I never go for the kill, but Maksim pulls the trigger easily. Before, how easy it is for him to kill people might have frightened me or frustrated me, but as his hand touches me between every shot—my shoulder, the small of my back, my waist—I know it’s not death he’s focused on. His motivation has always been his family. First, it was the Bratva and the men he considers brothers. Then, it was Natalie and how he was determined to avenge her. Now, there’s Lily and me. But as Natalie’s headstone is chipped by bullets and he violates the Mafia laws, I know I’ve taken priority over everyone else.
