The corridor opened up to a bar area of red velvet and black lacquer, which only intensified the hellish vibe of the place. There were poles and booths with velvet curtains and several doors that branched off the main room where the whores took their customers for privacy. Another long corridor, also held in red and black, led to Remo’s office.
When I entered the long room without windows, Remo’s eyes said he knew why I was there. Nino sat on the sofa, eying me with a hint of disapproval. He thought I sought fights with Remo, but that wasn’t the case. But unlike Nino, I had a conscience and it sometimes clashed with Remo’s ruthlessness.
“Your visits are becoming more frequent again, but this isn’t a simple family reunion, is it, Adamo?” Remo asked, arms crossed in front of his broad chest. He was in workout clothes, probably because he’d kicked the living hell out of the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling between his desk and the sofa. His dark eyes held a hint of suspicion. Maybe it was my own emotion reflecting back at me.
“How are things with Dinara?” Nino asked calmly, trying to be the deescalating presence but accidentally poking the beehive.
I narrowed my eyes. “She’s still part of the races and we’ve been talking often these last few weeks.” It wasn’t a lie, but certainly not the truth either.
Remo’s answering smirk told me he knew. I didn’t care. He hadn’t said I should stay away from Dinara, and even if he had, I wouldn’t have listened. Her closeness called too loudly to me. Getting in bed with the enemy was something he and I had in common.
“You want answers about Dinara. Answers she’s unwilling to give you.”
“Answers she’s unable to give me. It seems you are the only one who knows every aspect of her past. You and Nino.” I nodded at Nino who kept his usual poker face, not that I would have expected him to show any kind of reaction. His wife Kiara and his kids were the safest bet to tease an emotion out of him. Before his marriage to Kiara, everyone had been convinced he wasn’t capable of feelings at all.“Dinara told me she wants you to tell me the truth.”
“Is that so? I hope you reminded her that I don’t take orders, nor do I need permission. Keeping her secrets isn’t only for her sake.”
“That’s what I thought. If you worry whatever you’ll say will shock me or make me resent you for your actions, you’re forgetting that I know you, Remo. I know every despicable act you’ve committed. Nothing could ever shock me when it comes to you.”
Remo’s face turned hard. “Nino, why don’t you gather the info Adamo demands.”
Nino got up without a word and headed over to the computer on the desk. He threw Remo a warning look. Maybe the secret protected both of them.
“What do you think will you discover today?” Remo asked.
“Dinara went through some shit in the past. Something to do with Grigory and you. Her mother tried to run away with her but you caught them and delivered Dinara right back to her father. You kept Eden for yourself for whatever twisted reason. So maybe Eden and Dinara did something in our territory that pissed you off. We both know you were even more psychotic back in the day than you are now.” I remembered the days when Remo and Nino had fought over Vegas, when blood and violence shone in their faces when they returned home from their raids at night.
“I was fucking pissed at the time. Grigory too,” Remo said. “I wonder if you think Dinara needs your support against me, and would you give it to her if she asked for it?”
“Are you testing my loyalty?”
“Should I?”
Nino made a small impatient sound. “No loyalties need to be tested.”
“He’s right. I’m loyal to our family and the Camorra.” I held up my arm with the marred Camorra tattoo. “But that doesn’t mean that’ll stop me from butting heads with you if you’re causing Dinara harm.”
“I see she got you,” Remo said with a dark chuckle.
“Done,” Nino said, looking up from the computer screen. Remo gave a jerky nod before he turned back to me again.
“Maybe one day you’ll stop suspecting the worst when it comes to me.” Remo gave me a harsh smile. “I’m not a good man, but whatever you think about Eden and Dinara, you’re wrong.” He nodded at Nino then he turned and left.
I frowned at the closed door. I’d have thought Remo would stay to see my reaction, to gauge my loyalty, even if he said it wasn’t a test.
Nino raised a USB-stick and motioned toward the laptop on the table in front of the couch. “Might be better if you sit down.”
“I can handle it.” I’d seen enough death and torture in my life to be hardened for whatever waited on this USB-stick. I snatched the device from his hand and shoved it into the laptop, wanting to get this over with.
Nino didn’t leave. He leaned against the wall behind me.
At first, I didn’t know what was happening on the screen. The camera was directed at a bed in an otherwise empty room. Was this a video of how Eden started working for the Camorra? Or worse, the video of Remo’s first encounter with the woman? I really wasn’t keen on seeing him getting it on with Dinara’s mother, but it would explain why he left the room.
Then a girl in a white nightgown came into view, definitely not a grown woman. One look at her face and her red hair, and I knew it was a young Dinara, maybe eight or nine years old. A fat guy in only underwear with a mask covering most of his face followed her and my stomach turned, fearing what would come next. The girl shook her head frantically. I couldn’t even think of her as Dinara. Then a woman came into view, the same red hair and distantly familiar features. Eden. She talked to Dinara then disappeared from view again.
I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d expected. Not what I got. My heart beat frantically, my chest tightening as I kept watching. Bile traveled up my throat. I wasn’t sure how long I managed to watch the horror before me. Soon nausea battled with absolute rage in my body.
I grabbed the laptop and threw it against the wall, smashing it. The screen finally turned black and the horrible sounds died. My breathing was harsh as if I’d run or fought a battle, and the spike in adrenaline indicated the same. But I was still sitting in the same spot on the couch. My fingers dug into my thighs, shaking with the need to rage and destroy.
“Remo and I had found out that the Bratva was looking for Grigory’s wife. We got a tip that she was in town, so we went looking for her, hoping to blackmail them. What we found wasn’t what we expected. Eden and her boyfriend produced these kinds of videos with her daughter and they sold them on the Darknet. We informed Grigory and handed his daughter back to him.”
I stared blankly at the destroyed screen. It wasn’t enough. The need to destroy more, to rage and hurt was almost impossible to suppress. It was a familiar craving, one I’d felt on occasion over the years—never this potent, this all-consuming, though—and had always ignored. I had barely watched three minutes of the video, had to shut it off before it really began, unable to see the horrors that Dinara had lived. She hadn’t been able to stop them. I’d imagined so many horrors, but nothing came close to what I’d watched.
“I always wondered if I’d ever see that look in your eyes.”