Bianchi … that name sounded familiar to me.
“The West Coast Mafia?”
His lips twisted in a small, amused smile. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
I shrugged. There were lots of things I didn’t know. But I’d realized early on how important it was to listen for information surrounding Father’s work. I knew the life I was born in meant I could die at any age. I refused to die in ignorance.
I didn’t want to die for a cause I knew nothing about.
“Yes, the West Coast Mafia,” Mikhail said.
“Why are we looking for him?”
His eyes softened when I said, “we.”
He played with my hair, his gaze taking on a faraway note.
When he turned back to me, I didn’t know what he was feeling. Like Damien, he was so good at hiding his emotions.
“Unlike Damien, I wasn’t born in this life,” he said.
I didn’t say anything, not wanting him to stop. The men hardly ever told me anything about themselves. I was hungry for information on them.
“I was born in Russia to a single mom. I don’t know who or where my dad is, and I don’t care to find out. It had always been her and me. It was a nice life. Quiet. We were poor, but …” He shook his head. “I don’t think I have ever been happier.”
I cupped his cheek. I had a feeling his story didn’t end happily.
He placed his hand on top of mine and looked at me. “We were planning on immigrating to the U.S. Everything was all settled. The house was sold, giving us small means to at least find a place to live once we came to a foreign land. We said goodbye to everyone. I was twelve.
“Then, at the airport, something went wrong at security. They brought us to a small room, and I don’t know what the cause of it was. We missed our flight, and the next thing I knew, we were being taken away from the airport. Fuck, I tried to fight them off. There were so many of them.”
“Oh, Mikhail.”
He focused back on me, frowning a bit. He used his thumb to swipe away the small tear falling from the corner of my eye. I didn’t even know I was crying until now.
I was right. This didn’t have a happy ending.
He brought his thumb up to his mouth and licked away the tear.
“They kept us in a small room for three days,” he continued. “It wasn’t until I got older and gained more power through the brotherhood that I realized we were targeted by a group of mercenaries who made it their business to find people leaving Russia and traffic them for a hefty profit. I was sold off to a brothel.”
I tightened my arm around his neck, moving closer to him.
He moved his hand up and down my back. Even when he was telling me about the horrors he went through as a child, he was trying to comfort me.
“Your mom?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Damien got me out of the brothel when I was nineteen. He brought me out of the life and gave me a place in the brotherhood. I’ve been trying to find her since. I’ve long given up hope that I will ever see her alive, but fuck, I would much rather know.”
“And this Ricardo person knows?”
He nodded. “You know we took Henry.”
I swallowed, looking down briefly before bringing my eyes back up to his. I nodded.
“He won’t ever hurt you again,” Mikhail promised softly.
Again, I nodded. I believed him, but I didn’t want to think about Henry Ramos anymore. The last time … when he had me pinned down to a dirty mattress …