“Oh, thank God,” he breathes. “Can you get me out of here? I just want to go home.”
I exhale slowly and take a step inside the shed. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”
Not only am I not a patient person, but I’m not a trusting one, either. I still haven’t fully decided if Viola’s intentions with being Saxon’s friend are real, or if she’s playing some sick and twisted game with someone who’s already lost enough. The one thing I do know is that if it ends up being the latter, I won’t think twice before taking a machine gun and turning her body into Swiss cheese.
I climb into the helicopter and put the headphones on. Beni does the same and my pilot takes off, bringing the helicopter straight up over my house before heading for the city. I give Beni a look, impatiently waiting for him to explain.
“Right,” he says, his voice coming through the headphones. “According to our little pet, Vladimir and Dmitri flew back the day after Saxon’s funeral. Not many in the organization were aware of it. It was kept pretty low-key, but the shithead has a cousin higher up who told him to put in extra effort because of it.”
My brows furrow. “I don’t get it. What would make them come back so soon after leaving?”
“A deal,” Beni says, making the pieces fall together. “According to him, Dalton is back in, which makes me believe that having Saxon killed was his way of proving his loyalty to Dmitri."
“That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.” A pit settles in my stomach. “Dmitri wanted her dead, because in his mind, she was his property. The second Dalton promised to give her to him, he believed she belonged to him. I didn’t tarnish what was Dalton’s…”
“You ruined what was Dmitri’s,” Beni finishes for me.
I exhale slowly while pinching the bridge of my nose. “That man is un-fucking-hinged.”
“Absolutely delusional,” he agrees with me. “But that’s neither here nor there. Saxon is safe. Everyone is fully convinced she’s dead, and as long as Viola doesn’t go blabbing to the media, it will stay that way. In the meantime, we need to focus on why they came back to the city.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. They put a hit out on Saxon. I’ll have them hanging by their intestines off the George Washington Bridge before they can even choose which properties they want first.”
Beni nods. “And what about Dalton?”
A sinister smirk makes its way across my face. “I’m going to torture him in ways that make what I’ve done to everyone else look like a toddler’s birthday party.”
THE RUSSIAN HANGOUT that Vladimir is rumored to be inside sits in the middle of the Bronx. It’s a brick building, barren of any windows, with only one way in and one way out. The location could be better, but the building is perfect. It’s the ideal place for us to grab him, as long as we can prove he’s inside.
Roman and Cesari pull up in a separate car, looking discreet as they make their way past us and into the alley. Beni and I glance around and then follow them, out of view from onlookers. Once we’re alone, Ces takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. There, right on the screen, is a picture of Vlad from one of his informants—a crackhead who will do whatever it takes to get the money for his next fix.
My blood starts to rush. The adrenaline of knowing Vladimir is almost within reach has me ready to break down walls with my bare hands in order to get to him.
Another man who stole my father from me will be dying today.
“Okay,” I say. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that every man in there is armed, so our only option is to go in hot. Thankfully, this isn’t the best area, and gunshots aren’t uncommon. We kill everyone except Vlad. I want him to suffer.”
They all nod in unison and turn just in time to see Nico limping as he leads the rest of the soldati behind him. They all look professional, and armed, and ready to take down anyone in their goddamn way. That is, if Ro and Cesari don’t take him down first.
Within seconds, two of my most trusted men pull out their guns and have them cocked and pointed at his head. Nico stops in his place, his bruised eyes begging me to rescue him before they blow his fucking brains out.
“You didn’t fill them in?” I ask Beni.
He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”
I snort. While the rest of the Familia was at The Pulse for a meeting, where Raff was completely stripped of his consigliere title and exiled from the Familia and Nico was beaten by the rest of the soldati for his betrayal, Roman and Cesari were on orders to guard the house. I couldn’t risk any of the soldati learning Saxon is still alive. It’s already bad enough that Nico knows.
“Lower your weapons,” I tell them, finally taking mercy on him. “Beni will fill you in later, but for now we need all hands on deck.”
Everyone follows my lead as I walk up to the door, putting one of the newer soldati in front of the peephole. The rest of my men get up against the wall while I knock three times. When a man about my size opens the door, the firefight begins.
I shoot him directly in the head, immediately notifying the rest of the Bratva inside of a threat. My men and I make our way inside with guns blazing, shooting at Vlad’s men and taking cover from the returning fire. There are at least twenty men including Vlad, which outnumbers our fifteen, but we’re a better shot.
Blood spatters against the walls as we land headshots and take them out one by one, while Vlad remains at the poker table, shuffling cards. He knows there is nowhere for him to go.
A Bratva fires a shot that manages to get one of my soldati in the thigh. He falls to the ground while Nico grabs his arms and drags him to safety. Meanwhile, as another one gets grazed in the arm, he simply uses his other arm to fire his gun right back at them. That’s the kind of soldati who is going to make it in this organization.
Finally, there’s only one gun being fired from the other side, and Beni gets up, running across the room and shooting him directly in the head. The room goes silent, and the only ones left are us and Vladimir. He holds his hands up, careful not to make any sudden moves.
Dead bodies belonging to the Bratva fill the room, and yet we didn’t have a single casualty. I step over the bodies, making my way over to Vlad. He glances around with a blasé expression, as if he’s not looking at the massacre of his entire team.
“You didn’t have to do all that,” he says in his thick Russian accent. “I would have gone willingly.”
“And ruin all my men’s fun?” I mock offense. “I could never.”
He’s yanked up by Beni and holds his hands behind his back while he gets tied up. “Now that I think about it, it’s better that you did. A bunch of pussies like them don’t belong in the Bratva.”
I snort, watching as Beni grabs his arms and brings them up, making Vlad bend forward uncomfortably. “You’re all a bunch of pussies.”
Roman pulls the car straight up to the door. All my men block the view from the street into the alley while Beni tosses Vlad into the backseat, hogtying him once he’s back there.
“We’re going to the same place you took Evgeny,” I tell Ro. “Meet us there with three soldati of your choosing. Send the rest home.”