FOURTEEN
Nikita
Showing up uninvited to the mafia's compound isn't a picnic. There are two men at the guard gates. One of the men radios into the compound for reinforcements while the second guard searches me, getting a little too friendly with my family jewels.
"That's my dick, not my gun," I bark at the guardsman.
He snorts under his breath. He already has my weapon, and he's disarmed the gun before sticking it into his waistband.
A half dozen guards exit the interior of the building, heading across the lawn. In the center, is Antonio Moretti.
Are they that afraid of one man that they had to call in the cavalry for reinforcement?
"What are you doing here, uninvited?" Antonio asks on his approach. He's behind the metal gate, not allowing me inside the premises.
I don't need to be inside his home to tell him what I think of him, that he's a pompous ass and should leave my family alone. "We need to talk," I say.
He glances me over. Does he not approve of my crisp, black suit? There's disdain in his eyes, and his gaze tightens. "What do you want?"
"You are to leave Lucy and her son, Zion, alone. Their family is off-limits."
He chuckles under his breath. "What makes you think I give a shit about the girl or the child?" He doesn't admit to the crimes that he's committed, and why would he? He's too smart to say anything that could get him locked behind bars.
"You sent the Italians on her in Chicago, and your imbecile Otello tried having the two of us killed. Your men know better than to step on Russian Bratva territory.
Antonio's top lip twitches. His hands are balled into fists at his sides. He's armed, but he hasn't pulled his weapon on me. "Otello is dead. I assumed that you had something to do with it."
I would have liked to have been the one to put a bullet in his head. "How'd he die?"
Had Mikhail put a hit on him without consulting me?
"He didn't know his place," Antonio says.
Antonio killed him.
Why?
Even with Otello dead, I don't trust that it's over. I haven't seen his dead body; he could be playing us. "Stay away from my family," I warn Antonio.
"Is that a threat?"
"Lucy is my wife. The bratva owns her. If you come anywhere near her, Zion, or anyone in my family, we will burn you and your pathetic mafia to the ground."
He doesn't take kindly to my threat, stepping closer to the gate.
The guard at his side shakes his head at Antonio, whispering something that I can't hear, likely a warning for him not to raise the stakes.
"We will cease-fire with your family under one condition."
"What is that condition?" I ask, my stomach tensing. I don't like where this is heading with Antonio. His men could put a bullet into my head. While it would break the truce between the mafia and bratva, we're already treading a thin line on the verge of snapping. War is imminent.
"You bring me the flash drive that your wife was supposed to hand over."
"There's a flash drive in his pocket, sir," says the guard who searched me.
"Hand it over," Antonio demands.
I cautiously plunge my hand into my coat pocket and retrieve the thumb drive. It is exactly what Antonio requested, except one little detail has been left out: we wiped nearly all the money out of the accounts and installed a bug to gather intelligence from their computers. The moment they hook the computer up to the internet, we'll have access to their data, their keystrokes, and any saved passwords on their web browser.
We left a small amount of cryptocurrency funds in the ballpark of six figures and, with a hack, wiped our data from the transfer.
The guard beside me snatches the flash drive and hands it to another guard standing on the opposite side of the gate, who then gives the tiny device to Antonio.
"This had better not be empty."
"It's all there, every last cent," I say, biting my tongue from mentioning he doesn't deserve any of it and that Mikhail was generous in gifting what he did to keep the peace between our feuding families.
His eyes tighten, but Antonio doesn't respond to me. "He's free to go. If the flash drive is empty, you will be hearing from us again."
"I assure you, there is money on the drive." I take a step back, and the guards at my side let me retreat. "I hope never to see you again."
"Likewise," Antonio retorts as he heads back across the lawn for the compound.
* * *
Anton meets me at the club when I return from paying a visit to the mafia. "How bad is it?" I ask, stepping out of the black SUV and meeting him in the parking lot.
"Pretty tragic what they did, but the good news is no one died."
I exhale a sharp breath. "Good." I could have sworn that I stepped over bodies when they dragged me out with a bag over my head, but perhaps it hadn't been a person but something else?
He opens the door of the club, leading me inside. The dust has settled from the gunfire, but the destruction isn't subtle. There are bullet holes on the walls, on the platform, and riddling the ceiling.
Glass crunches under my black shoes.
Tables and chairs are overturned. The barstools were smashed and lay peppered over the floor in disarray. It's as if a tornado came through the interior, laying waste to the club.
The exterior, however, remains intact.
"We have a lot of cleaning up to do," I say. "Call Luka, Ivan, and Dmitri. Tell them to get their asses here to help rid the filth around here."
"Luka isn't available, sir."
"What do you mean, he isn't available?" Anton hasn't even called Luka before, assuming the man is busy.
"He has plans with Hannah."
"What kind of plans are more important than getting the club back up and running?" Without the club, we'll have to find another avenue to launder money. I don't have time to conjure up a new strategy in a short amount of time. Mikhail expects money to flow freely from the club.
"Luka intends to propose."
I should have seen that coming. It's been no secret that he's tried to ask for her hand and been interrupted. "Well, she'd better say yes. Then the two of them can get their asses here and help."