Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Do you think Rosa’s ready?”
“It’s been five years,” Dario says. “You have to move on at some point.”
I turn and stare at him. He doesn’t need me to say it. He needs to move on too.
I take several large, chunky rings from my jacket pocket as we reach our destination.
“He deserves it,” Dario says angrily, “and much worse. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.”
The thick rag binding his hands to the chain-link rope used to be white, but it’s crimson now. In the shadows of the warehouse—the windows are blacked out—my men stand out of the harsh glare of the floor lamp. I stare at the man with one cheek bruised from a beating my men must’ve given him en route.
After meeting my woman, I’m even more sickened at what this man did. He recorded it and sent the video to Edonismo: a mother and her daughter.
I punch him so hard in the mouth three of his teeth fly into the lamplight and clatter on the floor. My second strike takes him in the gut, causing him to try to keel over, but the rope stops him, and he dribbles blood all over himself.
“Women and children in my fucking city?”
Two more blows remove three more teeth, and then I step back, taking the rag Dario hands to me. I wipe my hands and grab his face, forcing him to look at me. It sickens me to touch him.
I met with the mother and the daughter after what he did. They survived physically, but their minds are shattered, twisted at what he forced them… They’re out of state now, in a special care unit, but that doesn’t make it better.
“They might’ve been better dead,” I snarl, then headbutt him. His nose breaks, and more blood spills. I step away and wipe myself down again.
“The Russian Bratva are funneling their trash into the drug circulation of low-income neighborhoods.”
The man groans, staring through blurry eyes.
“What did I just say?” I snarl.
“The Bratva are selling sick dope where poor people live, yes?” He groans. “That is it. Yes?”
“Where are they keeping it? Who are the dealers?”
“If I tell you…” He pauses, coughing some more. “You let me live, yes?”
“You tell me, and I put a bullet in your head. If you hold out, we’ll hurt you badly and then put a bullet in your head.”
“I will never betray the Bratva. Not if I cannot live. You will not break me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I turn and walk into the darkness. Dario strides into the light, holding a hammer in one hand and a knife in the other. The Russian doesn’t take long to give us what we want.
Once it’s over, I return to the light and press my gun against his head. It’s always brutal, killing a man, but I don’t feel any guilt as I pull the trigger. As his body slumps forward, I feel nothing. I’m not even righteous about avenging that poor woman and her daughter.
In the car, Dario says, “That’s how they’ve taken over the unions—the fentanyl-laced shit. We’ve already lost five men to it: civilians and regular construction workers. Even more to addiction. This should help the legitimate side of the business too.”
I nod. “We’ll stop the flow and get some of our guys back into the union.”
“We need to put Sokolov in the dirt,” Dario snaps, sighing.
Fyodor Sokolov is the leader of the Bratva on the East Coast, who initiated this war. He’s trying to push us from power. He’ll run the city like an animal without constraints, thoughts about people’s lives, or the everyday person.
“If I knew where he was, I’d beat him to death myself.”
“Did you hear what that man said when I got the information?”
I shake my head.
“Sokolov taught him all that, the stuff he did on the video. He trained his men. He called it Kremlin stuff. Using psychological warfare, abusing and destroying regular citizens is a way to terrify the average person. They don’t realize, do they, Leo?”
“No, they fucking don’t.”
“We’re not the average person, and we don’t get scared.”
I clap him on the arm. For the rest of the journey, I let my mind wander. Considering I just killed a man, maybe it’s strange where my thoughts go, but it feels natural. The red of the blood becomes the red flush of her cheeks instead, and suddenly I’m in a better place.
The war’s over. I’m holding my woman tightly, inhaling the scent of her curly hair, and our children are laughing and calling to us, Mommy, Daddy!
And everybody lived happily ever after. Yeah, right, because life’s a goddamn fairy tale.
CHAPTER FIVE
Emma
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Rosa asks, lingering at the door to the guestroom. There’s hope in her voice.
Before the half-naked man, before the kidnapping—call a spade a spade—we talked about spending the night together slumber-party style. However, the day’s been far different, sitting in awkward silence in the basement.