The Deadliest Sin Series Complete Collection, page 123
It better be something…
Days of waiting around for more information to surface, for the answers about the group attacking everyone to become clear, have left me back on the edge of violence.
Dmitri settles into the chair on the other side of my desk and shakes his head. “Nothing good, pakhan. We've scoured the entire city, looking for any signs of the men who came to the church and then to Felipe's condo, but they've vanished again.”
“Blyad!”
The only thing worse than knowing you have a target on your back is not knowing who is shooting or from where. This death squad that appeared at the church and then tracked us to Felipe’s poses a major threat—to me and everyone else. We don’t know who their real target is—it could be all five families. But even if they aren’t after me, taking out one of the heads of the other families would have catastrophic effects in Chicago. It’s the only reason I never moved against Kat when she stole from me and slapped me in the face by lying to me about her intent, all while looking me right in the eye.
That woman is the kind of threat I always feared in this business—deathly beautiful and a brilliant manipulator. She may have sworn she had nothing to do with the group of men after us, but none of us trust her word. We can’t. Not when we’ve all been burned by it and her before.
“What about the way Cutter’s guy was tracking them before—the rental car?”
“Somebody must have gotten wise to what happened when they arrived at the condo and everyone was gone. They ditched it and set it on fire on the Southside.”
“Blyad! So, we don't have anything?”
He shrugs slightly. “We have something…”
“What's that?”
“Surveillance video from the condo building of them coming into the lobby. Felipe sent it to everyone this morning to see if anyone had any sources who could use it in a helpful way.”
“Could you ID any of them and track them that way?”
“I don't have the technology to run that through facial recognition software, but Cutter’s guy is doing it. He said the names they flew under from Albania are likely aliases, anyway, so he’s trying to track down who they really are to see if it gives any clue as to who sent them.”
I tighten my hand into a fist and slam it against the desk. “Eto blyad’ khuinya. Why can't we find anyone who knows what the fuck they're doing? I don't want to have to rely on Valentina and Cutter, or anyone else for that matter, to get information for us about our enemies.”
It puts us in a weak position, one I refuse to let us fall into. There’s already too much conflict and uncertainty. I won’t give my belly to one of my enemies by calling them for help.
We need our own resource on this, someone who can do a deep dive, but I’ve never been able to find anyone with the skills of Cutter’s friend.
“I want you to find somebody who can do this, who can track down these fuckers and figure out who hired them and who their target really is—whether it's all of us or just one of us and we all happened to get caught in the crossfire. And see what you can get from any of Kat’s men. Until then, we stay on high alert. Keep the club locked down to members only and double the protection on all the girls when you send them out on calls.”
He inclines his head and pushes to his feet. “Will do, pakhan. You really think this wasn't Kat?”
I drum my fingers on the desk and lean back in my chair. “I honestly don't know, Dmitri. They came from Albania—Vlorë. She's fucking Albanian, and the city was the center of her late husband’s empire. We know she's had her sights set on getting rid of all the competition since the day she arrived here. She killed Michael Syla, and she's already made moves against me and the Irish. Now that she's teamed up with Rose, who knows where that might lead, to what lengths they might go.”
A cold-blooded femme fatale and a blood-thirsty Colombian cartel head combining powers isn’t good for any of us on the outside of it. Even Rose's own brother doesn’t trust him, and I can’t say I blame Felipe in that regard.
We need answers.
I need answers.
Dmitri nods. “I had the same thought.”
“But Galen implied it could be me.”
My first in command since Syla slaughtered Oleg pauses at the door and turns back to me. “What do you mean?”
I release a heavy sigh. “He suggested it was somebody trying to set up Kat, and given our close connections with that area of the world, it might be easy for us to be the ones behind it. They were using Soviet weapons at the church…”
Dmitri narrows his eyes on me. “Was it you?”
Is he fucking serious with this question?
“Poshol na khuy. Dmitri. Do you really think I would make a move like that without telling you?”
He offers a shrug again. “I don't know. Times are changing. It's hard to trust anyone, right?”
“That it is.”
He closes the door behind him, and I stare at the shiny black wood of my desk, drumming my fingers, considering all the ways life has gone to hell lately. One solitary good thing has occupied my thoughts and haunted my dreams at night.
Julia…
My gaze drifts over to the couch, and I can almost taste her release on my tongue again, remembering her little moans. I flip on my computer and click on the file for the video surveillance from when Julia arrived only a few days ago.
The alley camera shows her standing, staring at the outer door for a while, shifting uneasily in the too-high-for-her heels, hesitant to come in, before she squares her shoulders and steps up to it.
I was right; she was scared.
But she also has balls.
She made the decision to enter and never looked back.
I focus on the next camera, watching her approach the check-in area and her interaction with Connie. The way she responds to the other woman draws a chuckle from deep in my chest.
Julia wanted in and wouldn’t be deterred by Connie’s icy demeanor.
She steps into the club, and even from this camera angle and darkened room, the change in her body language the second she sees the people at play is readily apparent. Julia is more than interested in what goes on here. It isn’t an act or a pretense. She climbs onto the stool at the bar, and my interaction with her unfolds like I'm watching a movie in my memory.
Heading back to my office past the playrooms…
Me pouring the drinks…
Me slipping my hand up her skirt…
Her head tipped back with her cries and gasps…
My cock swells watching the replay, and the taste of her release dances on my tongue again.
Blyad!
I press the button on the phone on my desk to buzz Dmitri.
“Yeah, pakhan.”
“Send Sasha in here right away.”
I unzip my pants and free my aching cock, stroking it slowly as the door to the office swings open. Sasha enters with a sultry smile, closing the door behind her and throwing the lock. I push back from my desk and motion for her to come to me.
She approaches me seductively, her hips swaying in the miniskirt that barely covers her pussy and ass, red hair tumbling down over her shoulders and brushing the tops of her almost fully exposed breasts.
Of all the girls who work here at the club and make themselves available to our clientele, she’s one of my favorites. Always willing to please and a fucking expert at sucking cock.
She rounds the desk and immediately drops to her knees between mine to wrap her mouth around my length. I groan at the wet heat engulfing me and drop my head back against the headrest, burying my fingers in her lush waves.
Only it isn't her I'm picturing but a petite bleach-bottle blonde with tan skin and the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted.
VALERIAN
“Where did you find him?” I stare at Genti tied up in the chair at the center of the warehouse.
Blood trickles from a gash at his temple, his left eye already swelling from whatever my men did to get Kat’s right-hand man into this position.
“It isn’t like him to let down his guard.”
Dmitri glances over at me. “We followed him leaving Kat’s Cradle and managed to grab him when he got out of his car outside a smoke shop.”
“Did anyone see you?”
He shakes his head. “No, the place doesn’t have any security cameras, and we were careful following him.”
“So, Kat has no idea we have him?”
Dmitri offers a shrug. “I don't know how she could, pakhan.”
“Excellent.”
That gives me some time to try to get answers from the one man who may have them.
Genti lifts his head and sneers at me, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. “She's going to fucking kill you when she finds out.”
Chuckling, I approach and squat in front of him, putting myself at his level. “Your boss is already in a very precarious position, Genti. I don't think she's going to be doing anything of the sort.”
“What the hell do you think you're going to accomplish with this?”
I pull my knife out of my boot and use the blade to pick at my cuticle. “I'm hoping I can get some answers about what the fuck has been going on around here.”
Going after one of Kat’s men seemed like the most obvious move to try to get to the bottom of her potential involvement in the recent attacks. Though, I never anticipated Dmitri would be able to pull off capturing Genti—the one who has her ear and is privy to the innermost workings of the mind of the woman who seems intent on destroying the families.
“You think I'm going to tell you anything?”
I grin at him. “I do, Genti…because you're a smart man. And you know the kind of pain I can inflict on you if you don't cooperate. I want to know everything about the men who came over from Albania. Are they working on Kat's behalf?”
Genti’s lips twist as if he’s tasted something bitter. “If they were, do you think I'd fucking tell you?”
I scowl at him and shake my head. “Already not being very cooperative. This would go a lot faster and be a lot less painful if you were.”
“I have no desire to get sliced and diced today, Valerian, so I’ll tell you what I can. It isn’t much. Kat doesn't know anything about those guys and didn't send them. I would know if she did.”
“She's never made a move behind your back without your knowledge?” I raise a brow at him. “I find that hard to believe.”
Given how secretive Kat is and the way she betrayed his former boss—during a very intimate moment—I know the answer to that question before he even opens his mouth.
“Never something important. If you're trying to stop a war, kidnapping me and threatening me isn't the way to do it, Valerian.”
Anger races through my blood, and I tighten my hand on the knife. “Oh, now you're giving me advice on how to run my business?”
“Seems like you might need it.”
I push to my feet. “The only current threat to me is your bitch boss and her Colombian boy toy. Ever since she appeared in Chicago, everything's been one clusterfuck after another, yet you stand by her, ever loyal. Even when she linked up with Rose. Why is that?”
Anyone with eyes who has seen the two of them together would know why he’s so loyal—he’s in love with her—but given her relationship with Rose, he’ll never have her.
“She killed your former boss, betrayed him. The man who trusted her and brought her into his fold. Now you’re willing to put down your life for her. How do you know she isn’t doing the same to you? To all of us?”
He tries to shrug, but the restraints on his arms make the movement almost imperceptible. “I guess I don't. But one thing I do know is that Kat isn't stupid. She was in that church and got shot. She was hunted at Felipe's condo with everyone. She's not going to let herself get caught in the crossfire intentionally. And certainly not twice.”
“Unless she's trying to draw attention away from herself and remove suspicion.”
It would be a smart play. And it has worked. Galen’s voiced distrust of me only arose because Kat managed to make everyone believe she might be innocent.
Genti shakes his head. “This isn't that, Valerian. Something else is going on here. There's another player. I'm positive of it.”
I walk around behind him, sliding the knife under his throat. “I'd love to hear your theory, Genti. And I hope, for your sake, it's one that explains all this. I tire of this game we play. Perhaps slitting your throat and going after Kat, guns blazing, is the only possible course of action.”
He swallows, the motion pressing the blade against his skin enough to send a trickle of blood down the front of his shirt. “We all know the Berishas and the Dragushas tried to take out Kat when she was last in Albania because they weren’t happy about her taking their girls.”
I nod slowly. “Yes, I did hear something about that.”
“So, who is to say they haven't decided to make an even stronger move here?”
“The Dragushas and Berishas never struck me as the types with enough manpower or enough balls to come across the ocean and try to supplant us.”
“Normally, I would agree, but there have been rumblings.”
“Ah, so you do know something.”
He shakes his head. “Rumors, supposition.”
“Do tell.”
His eyes dart up to meet mine as much as the position allows. “Might be a little easier if you lowered the knife.”
I lean in and press my mouth against his ear. “What fun would that be?” More blood trickles from the wound at his neck. “Tell me everything you know.”
He tightens his jaw. “There's been more violence, more unrest and uncertainty ever since the Sylas and the Gashis left Albania and the Dragushas and Berishas stepped up. They've eliminated many of the smaller groups. Either decimating them completely or welcoming them into the fold if they bend the knee.”
“And you think they're ambitious enough to come here to stage something like this?”
“I don't know. But that's the point, isn't it? We don't know anything.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. We don't know anything. Except that there are some very angry people with guns, shooting at anything that moves.
Pulling his head back, I press the knife to his jugular. “If you're lying or holding anything back from me, I'll slit your throat right now.”
His stony eyes meet mine—no fear in them. “Do it. Do it and you'll create your worst enemy in Kat. If you think what she's done so far is bad, you can't imagine the lengths she will go to if you hurt me.”
I slowly press the blade against the skin hard enough to send more rivulets of blood down his neck. “I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone. But on this, I don't think you're lying. You just better pray I don't find out that I’m wrong about that.”
A phone dings somewhere in the warehouse, and I jerk my head up and watch Dmitri glance at his.
“Pakhan?”
“What is it?”
This isn't the time to be interrupting me, and Dmitri knows that. Which means whatever is going on is serious.
“There's a visitor trying to enter the club.”
“You know what I said—no visitors until all of this is resolved. Members only.”
He inclines his head. “It's the blonde.”
Almost instantly, my cock stirs, and I can't fight the grin that pulls at my lips. “Tell them to let her in and to bring her to playroom one to wait for me.”
“Yes, pakhan.” Dmitri texts whoever contacted him from the club.
I release my hold on our captive and walk around to face him again. “It's men like you and me who prevent wars, Genti. We are the ones who understand that there are some lines we don't cross. There are rules that aren't broken. Your boss needs to learn that. If she doesn't, she's going to be the one who ends up regretting it.” I force a tight smile. “You make sure she understands that, or the next time we meet, it won't be on such pleasant terms.”
Having to restrain myself from lashing out at Genti with my rage against Kat takes every ounce of willpower I have, but it wouldn’t solve anything. He’s right—if I kill him, Kat will only come at me harder.
I stalk toward the exit of the warehouse and pause next to Dmitri.
He peers over his shoulder at our captive. “What do you want me to do with him?”
I glance back to where Genti still sits restrained, fury flashing in his eyes. “Let him go, but see if you can slip a tracker and a mic on him somewhere. A coat pocket, perhaps. I want to know everything Kat and Rose are doing, and since we don't have anyone on the inside, we need to find a way to get out of the dark on all this.”
He nods. “I'll see what I can do.”
“I'm heading back to the club and will be otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening. Don’t interrupt me for anything.”
JULIA
The giant wooden X next to the wall directly across from me appears inconspicuous enough to someone who doesn’t know, just a polished piece of black wood. Nothing anyone should be afraid of…until I let my eyes drift to the manacles at the top and bottom of it—a St. Andrew's Cross.
I've never seen one in person before, but staring it down sends a flutter of fear and excitement through me that matches what I felt with Valerian the other night in his office.
Coming back was a calculated risk I had to take.
Either Valerian didn’t recognize me, or he did and let me go for some ulterior purpose. If he doesn’t know who I am, it’s only a matter of time before he will figure it out, and then, he’ll want to know why I'm actually here.
That doesn’t bode well for my future.
For the third time since I was escorted in here, I push to my feet from the red leather bench and make my way over to the door to try it.
Still locked.
I don't know why I thought it wouldn't be. Nothing has changed in the time I've been sitting here other than my anxiety ramping up.
Where the hell is Valerian?
Footsteps sound in the hallway, barely audible over the music from the main club. The walls in here are almost soundproof, likely designed that way so that whatever goes on in here remains absolutely private. Which, if my guess is correct, is precisely why Valerian had me put here.
