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The Heir: (A Dark Mafia Romance) Bratva Blood

Page 16

by SR Jones


  The trouble is, if whoever is behind this are so feared these shady bastards manipulating Zoey are scared, they’re clearly bad fuckers. Their reputation obviously precedes them. But … so does mine.

  I reach the bedroom and look down at my sleeping wife, curled up on her side. Love so fierce it hurts sweeps over me. I’ll do anything to make sure Violet gets to keep sleeping like this at night, but in order to ensure that, I’m going to have to re-enter a life I swore I’d left behind.

  I never gave myself a nickname when I was an enforcer, I didn’t need to. I didn’t get Bratva ink. I didn’t need to. My name alone put the fear of God into anyone who heard it. I beat people up for Allyov in the UK. I took people out for Allyov. But before him, back in Russia and the Ukraine, I was a deadly avenging angel for the men I worked for and for myself. I went through some of the supposedly toughest motherfuckers alive. I took them out and then disappeared like a ghost. I didn’t leave a calling card, but I let it be known it was me who had ended the people I killed.

  Sometimes, I shocked myself with the things I did.

  Justina thinks she knows me. She knows I saved her from that brothel. What she doesn’t know is that many moons later, when no one would be expecting it, I went back to that brothel after a police raid ensured there were no girls working that night and took out the owners. I killed the odious Madam and burned the place to the ground. I torched it and every sordid fucking thing in it.

  I’ve witnessed what extreme beliefs and convictions can do to people. The monsters it can turn them into. I’ve also seen what greed, power, and a lust for more can do. Most of us, most people, they have limits. There are those who walk amongst us who have none. They are deadly, dangerous predators, and I know what these people can do when they get power.

  If people of that ilk are coming after my loved ones, after K and his loved ones, then there’s only one course of action. They must be stopped. And this time there won’t be some gunfight at the OK Corral-style shootout like we had at K’s house. No, this time there will only be silent death for them. Death as they sleep in their beds at night or screw some poor hapless woman that they’re probably forcing or coercing. There will be death for them as they sit at their desks working or as they drive their fancy cars.

  Nothing but death. Silent, unexpected, and coming at them from all angles.

  I will put the fear of the Devil himself into them, and that devil will be me.

  Violet turns in her sleep, and I watch her for a moment longer, then I go look at our daughter in her cot.

  She’s so precious. So beautiful. I never thought I’d have this. Thought I’d go through this life pretty much alone. In some ways, I weirdly wish I had because despite all the joy my family brings me, they also bring me crushing, soul-destroying fear. I know how dark the world can be. I know what is out there, lurking beyond our sunny patch of land, the sun, sea, and olive groves. I can’t bear to think of any of that touching them.

  So in order to keep them safe, I’m going to have to break a promise made in good faith. I’m going to have to risk my marriage because my wife will not understand me returning to a life I swore I was done with.

  I’m coming out of retirement, for real this time. This won’t be a short, show-off moment like with K at his house. This will be me, leaving my family for however long it takes to make sure anyone who is a threat to me is dealt with.

  I won’t be able to do it alone, and K is out of commission, so I might have to work with Vasily. We might not see eye to eye, but he’s the sort of person I need on my side. To do so means putting aside my rage against his wife.

  As I look at my daughter, though, I can’t deny. I get it. I understand why Zoey did it. Doesn’t mean I forgive her for it, though.

  Kissing my beautiful baby girl on the forehead, I walk out of her room, down the stairs and into the cellar where I open the door to my weapons room.

  Time to take an inventory.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Vasily

  We arrive back in Corfu, and I’m tired and on edge.

  How the fuck any of this is going to work, I don’t know. How can K have a meeting with this fucker when he’s in the hospital and doped up on the good stuff?

  Andrius might kill Monty the moment he sees him.

  Reece is on his way, as is Damen.

  I glance at Zoey, and she’s positively bouncing in her seat. In a few hours, she’ll get to see her daughter again. How will I fit into that picture? Where will we stay?

  The whole future is uncertain and scary, and scared is not something I’m used to feeling. I know I’m probably going to lose Zoey, sooner rather than later, and I don’t want to.

  Andrius is right. We are fucked up, and we are probably headed for disaster, but I need her in my life.

  The idea of her walking away from me makes me feel sick.

  Do I love her? I don’t know.

  I think I might be in love with her, in a head-over-heels, but not-very-healthy, way.

  We approach the property, and it isn’t the one where Andrius lives now, but the empty property where he’s setting up a business with K. Except, in a matter of a day or so, he’s had electric gates and a camera installed. The driver Andrius sent to fetch us turns the car smoothly into the gate and comes to a stop. I glance up the drive and can’t help but smile.

  “Wow, he really is paranoid.” Monty shakes his head.

  The piece of shit is handcuffed between me and Ilya in the back. Zoey’s facing us, on the opposite back seat, and Alexei is up front with the driver.

  Behind the gates, walking down the hill, are four men with weapons aimed at the car. They gesture for us to get out. We do. The driver strides to the gate, and it opens, and the men descend upon us. One of them has a metal detector wand, and he uses it to check us.

  “What the fuck?” Ilya says. He glances at the house then looks at the cameras facing the gates. “Andrius, you fucker. What are you doing?”

  The men, all of them trained Special Forces I would guess, take our weapons, and then one of them gestures for us to follow him. We do. We are taken to the biggest house on the plot and shown to the open door.

  We head inside, and there, sitting in a chair, sipping at a drink is Andrius. By his side, in another chair, is Bohdan. I grin at my friend, wondering when he got back, but I get a blank look in return.

  My heart sinks a little. Bohdan has chosen his side, has he? We should all be working together, not this shit. Fuck these idiots for making it this way.

  Heavy footsteps descend the stairs, and Damen enters the room, and then, fuck me, Alesso and Stamatis Kantos.

  “Well, isn’t this a welcome committee and a half,” Monty says, but I can hear the fear in his tone.

  “Sit,” Andrius says to Monty and the rest of us.

  He indicates an uncomfortable-looking, dusty sofa placed at the other side of the room with two chairs next to it.

  I take one end, Ilya takes another, and we pull Monty down between us. Alexei remains standing, and Zoey takes one of the two chairs.

  “I think you probably know everyone here, Monty,” Andrius states.

  Monty nods.

  “You should leave,” Andrius says to Zoey.

  Oh, no. “She stays,” I say. “She took one of these bastards out, and she put her life on the line, so she stays.”

  “Not likely,” Andrius argues.

  “She’s in on this, fighting on our side, so she stays.”

  “Fine.” He bites the word out and gives me a filthy look, but he isn’t arguing, which I’m relieved about because he’s higher up in the pecking order here. “Reece, who has Esme and Luka, both of whom are British Special Forces, are on their way.” He turns back to Monty. “I’m Spetsnaz. So are K and Vasily. Alesso and Damen are Greek Special Forces. The men outside are Spetsnaz too. None of us fear you or your freaky little organization. We are, however, determined you’ll tell us everything you know, and if not, we can get very creative in how we extract t
hat information.”

  Andrius pulls his phone out of his pocket and makes a call.

  “Hey,” a familiar, gravelly voice says.

  “K, how you doing?”

  “Never better.”

  “Hhhmm. Well, welcome to the meeting. Oh, and the piece of shit who ordered your death is here.”

  Andrius turns the phone, and we can see K on the screen, looking a bit healthier than yesterday.

  “Vasily,” K states with a nod. “Ah, and Zoey. Hello again, darling. Seems you’re not as good with a gun as you are with a graphic pencil. Should have stuck to the art.”

  To my surprise, Zoey speaks. “I should have. I’m sorry, Konstantin. Truly sorry, I mean that. I’m not saying it to beg for your mercy, but because I need to say it. I was beside myself, thinking they’d kill my daughter. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Konstantin moves, and I notice the wince he makes when he does. The guy is not out of the woods, he’s in a world of pain, and Zoey did that to him.

  “I get it,” he says, surprising the hell out of me. “Not saying we’ll be best friends, Zoey, but I understand why you did it. You’re not the one I want dead. That piece of shit on the sofa is.”

  Monty smiles, but there’s a thin sheen of sweat over his top lip. “Now, now, Konstantin. We’re all men of business, and that’s all this was—business. However, I do have some very interesting advice and intel for you all, and all I ask in return is my life. That’s it.”

  “Listen, I’m going without the good stuff for this little tete-a-tete,” K growls through the screen. “So don’t blow smoke up my fucking ass. You tried to have me killed, and you expect me to believe you’re going to tell us who paid for this, frankly shoddy, hit, and all you want is to live?”

  “Yes,” Monty says. “I know once I tell you who is behind this, you will need to ensure the threat is neutralized, which makes me safe. So long as I have your word, all of you gentlemen, that I can simply disappear and live a quiet life, then we’re good.”

  “Except,” Andrius interrupts. “We know someone who knows you, and he’s told us you’re a bona fide psychopath, and I don’t see you slinking off for the quiet life anytime soon.”

  Monty considers us all then he sighs. “I’m dying.”

  For a moment there’s nothing but silence, then K snorts. “I’m done.”

  “No, wait. I am. Slowly. I have maybe four years they’ve said. Cancer. Untreatable, but slow. It’s made me aware of all the little things. It’s why I was vulnerable to being taken in by a gold digger, and it’s why I’ve made some bad decisions. Of course, if I was a psychopath, I’d probably decide to go out in a blaze of glory and take everyone I could down with me, but I’m not. I love my dogs. I have an elderly relative or two that I love. There are people I care for in this world. So, I want to spend time with them, know they are safe when I’m gone, and simply smell the flowers for however many years the good Lord decides I have. What I do not want to happen is for it all to be cut short tomorrow by a bullet to the head.”

  “I suppose you can prove this?” Andrius asks.

  “I won’t need to if your man Damen is as good as you say. He’ll already know.”

  We all look to Damen. He shrugs. “Still waiting on his personal medical and education records to be read through by Markos. I left it all with him. Let me call him.”

  Markos is another of the Greek mob, and Damen rings as we all wait. After a rapid-fire conversation in Greek, a few more minutes of waiting, then more Greek, he hangs up. Damen looks at Andrius. “According to Monty’s records, it’s true. He’s on low-dose chemo to help him survive longer, but it notes he’s been told it is not a cure for him.”

  “That’s the first reason I want to tell you out of the way. Now, the second. The people who hired me are extremely … nasty.” Monty sighs, rubs at his face, and swallows. “I wouldn’t normally have let them hire us. I’m the one who vets anybody referred to us, and I’m super careful, but I got myself in a personal situation, a total mess where I ran out of money. Oldest story in the book, ageing, and in my case dying. Old fool falls for youth and gets cleaned out in the process.”

  “You’re hardly old,” Damen points out.

  “Compared to the person I fell in love with, I am. But then, I’m sure quite a few of you gents understand, eh?”

  Damen laughs, but Andrius’ face turns even harder. I’d bet he’s five seconds away from putting a bullet in Monty.

  I decide to move this along before Andrius cracks. “Get to the good bit,” I demand.

  “Of course,” Monty says. “Have you heard of a group who call themselves The Starz Allianz?”

  We shake our heads and glance at one another. I’ve never heard of them.

  “Let me give you a small history lesson, and while this might be teaching my grandmother to suck eggs, it is apropos of what I will be telling you next.”

  Monty rearranges himself, his slim fingers clasped together on his knee. “Crime has gone global, as you are probably aware. Different crimes are carried out by different groups. So, for example, the idea that every organized crime group carries out every kind of criminal activity as seen on many TV shows, is simply incorrect.” He shifts again, and I wonder if he’s in pain. “Take human trafficking. Whilst it is done on a large scale, it is not generally carried out by large scale organizations such as well-known mafia groups, but it tends to be smaller scale opportunism by people who traffic women in their own nation to others. In Africa, for example, a lot of trafficking is done via the larger family unit. When the Soviet Union collapsed, women were trafficked by small, new gangs from local villages to Europe. It’s small fry doing it, but they’re vile, and they need taken down. Now.” He glances at Stamatis and smiles. “Contrast that with the illegal arms trade. You men will be more than aware that nations such as Ukraine have a huge number of unused weapons. They aren’t needed in the Ukraine, but perhaps an African dictator might find them of use. It is very difficult to steal and clandestinely move many arms without being noticed. To do that takes a lot of power; am I right, Stamatis?”

  Stamatis says nothing, but his face is set in hard lines. Andrius is listening intently, though, taking this in, the way he does everything.

  “Therefore, most military arms trafficking actually takes place under a veneer of legality. Like other commodities that can be moved around by shipment, so long as you have the right paperwork and corruption in the right places, having a few local officials and international arms brokers in your pockets means you’re good to go.”

  He shifts yet again. “Now, we could debate the morality of shipping arms, or say, letting a few tons of marijuana pass through the shipping lanes you control, all day long, but I think we gentlemen would agree that if there is one thing we are not okay with, it is the trafficking of young women, and even children, for sexual slavery.”

  There are murmurs from around the room.

  He nods briskly. “What if I was to tell you that the ridiculously named ‘The Starz Allianz’ is a group of disparate gangs, some from South America, many from the African continent, and the rest from Eastern Europe and the Balkans, who are working together to try to turn the piecemeal, opportunistic trafficking of women into something more akin to what Stamatis here, Vasily, and Ilya to a degree, do with weapons?”

  Stamatis frowns. “They’d need control of vast amounts of shipping lanes.”

  “Yes.”

  “Government officials in their pockets.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re saying that this group, this supposedly high-level group, are the ones who hired numbnuts like you to force a woman who wasn’t capable of it to shoot a Bratva kingpin?” I put it out there, not caring if Zoey’s feelings are hurt. This is fucking nuts.

  “Yes. It’s the truth. They wanted Mr. Silvanov out of the picture, and his girlfriend. They knew it would tear this venture you’re building apart, which by the way, they’re very concerned about. They believed it would push Andr
ius further into hiding, basically. Totally screw up things for Vasily, and cause trouble between him and Allyov, because we were supposed to pin this on Allyov as a move for more power and territory. They thought it would ignite a war amongst you all, and from what I’ve seen so far, they weren’t all that wrong.”

  “Where do we come into it?” Damen demands.

  “The plan was to take out Konstantin and do so in a way to terrify everyone, which if Zoey had completed her task, would have worked. Sow the seeds of doubt about who had ordered it and why. Start a whispering campaign, turning all the Russians against one another. I wasn’t involved in their plans for you, Stamatis, but I know it involved blowing up a few shipments, making it look like Allyov did it. Basically, the plan was, you all tear yourselves apart, and then they come in and take over. They came to us because we’ve successfully done such things in the past. I was the one who fucked this up. I used Zoey, at their request, instead of following my instincts and simply taking out Konstantin myself.”

  “How the fuck would you have taken me out?” K snorts.

  “With not too much difficulty,” Monty replies. “You go to that beach often, and I’m a trained sniper. Wouldn’t have been hard. They wanted it to be an inside job, though. Part of the brief was to create fear and division. They came to me because we were already using Zoey to spy on you, Silvanov, for another interested party. The Starz Allianz did their research, knew we had an in, and asked us to implement their brief.”

  “That explains why you were so panicky about me doing this, and why I got the feeling someone else was pulling your strings,” Zoey says. Then she considers him for a moment. “How did you manage to put an alert out on me?”

  He taps his nose, the insufferable idiot. “Need to know, but I have friends in very high places.”

  “This group have gone with a really shitty name.” Alesso speaks for the first time. “The Starz Allianz. It sounds like what someone would name a boy band.”

  “Shitty name, but terrifying members. The head of them is an Albanian group who used to be the Abi-Mag Crew working out of France. Highly insane levels of violence all around wherever they showed up. They beat women, raped them, killed their rivals with utter impunity. They are now working with at least five African organized crime groups, a handful from ex-Soviet nations, and finally three South American gangs we know are responsible for a massive amount of death in their own nations.”

 

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