“Benito is currently tracking him in one direction, while Raig’s band of IRA brothers tracks another. We also have our men, including those of our allied Bratvas, and the Clubs various chapters watching different groups.”
Blowing out a breath, I put the pieces of the puzzle closer together in my mind. This was good, but we needed more yet.
“There’s still a way to go, but we’ll have to see what Raig and Nick say.”
Standing up, he waved two fingers through the air. “That’s the final thing I had to pass on. You have a meeting at eleven tonight with them.”
A glance at the clock showed that was nine hours away, and knowing the boys’ schedule, they’d be sleeping during it and wouldn’t wake up for two hours after it.
Since they’d moved into the house, I’d set alarms for the boys' feeding times, so that I could be there through the night to help Nell out. I couldn’t do much for her, but I was determined to do as much as possible.
“Okay. Call Kuznetsov, and see if there’s anything else we should know. I’ll wait for Ben to call with an update from Nick and Raig, as agreed.” My brother nodded, and just as he got to the door, I asked about two of the men who’d been killed during their questioning.
“Was there ever anything said about Chernyshevsky or Goncharov’s bodies being dumped on their doorstep?”
“Not a thing, and that much I know because Kuznetsov said he’d asked where they were last week, and no one said anything.”
It was time to up the ante, then. “In that case, drop Pankin’s off. This time, do it in Makar’s bedroom.”
“I was just about to suggest that. I’ll let them know.”
Ben had suggested getting Raig and Nick into the Azarov meeting, saying I’d contacted them begging for help. That would explain any calls to them all those weeks ago and serve as proof for the Azarovs. We knew it would go to Makar’s head and that he’d trip up, which he had by inviting Ribeiro to the meeting, and showing one of his hands.
This didn’t explain why Abar hadn’t killed anyone for a few weeks, but it was likely he knew now that he had our attention and was planning something else. Unfortunately, and as much as it killed me, we had to wait for that.
In the meantime, I could prove how weak his Azarov buddies were, by dropping the body of one of the men they’d managed to buy from our Bratva in his bedroom. It made a mockery of his security, and showed how little we thought of him as a threat. It’d also knock their balance off after the meeting.
What he didn’t know was that it was his own son doing it.
Sacha was over his father ruining the name and reputation of their Bratva. They’d never been close, and his sister was just a bitch, so he’d offered to do what we needed. When I’d mentioned having some of the men's bodies, he’d suggested doing this exact thing with one of them.
And now it was time.
Dmitri would make the call, and while we were meeting with the men they thought could give them the power they needed to take us over, Makar would be coming face to face with the proof of how little power he had.
This whole situation had highlighted the fact that we needed to perhaps move to more legitimate business dealings, though. I had two sons and a woman, and soon enough, Dmitri would hopefully be following suit.
We had enough businesses to do it in the USA, and with the focus now on us after the body on the interstate with the 9 11 message on it, we had more eyes on us from the government than we wanted.
It was time to start planning for the future.
Nell’s pussy clamped down around me, making it hard for me to withdraw and push back into her.
Throwing her head back, she dug her nails into my sides, hopefully leaving more cuts behind. I wore them as a badge of honor, so she could leave as many as she wanted.
“Taras!”
Pulling back enough so I could rub the head of my dick on that patch inside her, focusing on the place that’d drive her out of her mind even more, I watched as she writhed around the bed. Satisfaction filled me at how out of control she was, with the knowledge I was doing this to her.
“Keep coming, baby.”
As soon as I felt some of the power in the spasms of her walls lessen, I thrust in hard, burying myself to the root, and let go, unable to stop the growl that came out of me.
The first time I’d had her in my bed, three weeks after her twenty-first birthday party, I’d thought it couldn’t get any better. I’d been wrong.