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Adrian clears his throat. “No, actually…I think she looks more like a Russian.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.I can’t help but close my eyes for a second to take control of the wave of frustration in my veins. If those damn freaks are planning something against us—
But I breathe out my anger and look at Adrian with a habitually cool expression under which my mind is still boiling. “Thanks, Adrian. If you see her again, let me know.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that, I finally walk away, although I can barely focus on the Mexicans with Adrian’s words still ringing in my head. Another conflict with the Russian Bratva is the last damn thing we need right now. It’s been over a year since we signed the truce with our formal enemies. They can’t just break it out of nowhere, right? Not while we have Elena.
You see, the Russians had been our number one enemies for decades. The war between two of the most powerful families of Chicago was long, bloody, and merciless—until a common enemy forced us to switch attention. The Mexicans made their grand appearance on the scene of the Mafia world with the murder of Cassio Messina, Riccardo’s father and previous don of the Messina Clan.
When we found out that it was the Escarra family who was responsible for his death, Riccardo swore to take his revenge and kill every last one of the Mexicans. But it turned out to be harder than any of us had expected—mostly because the war with the Russian Bratva had been exhausting our resources for years. So, to kill two birds with one stone, Riccardo decided to form an alliance with the Russians.
Of course, that was easier said than done, and when Yuriy Pushkov, the head of the Bratva, demanded that we prove our intentions, Riccardo announced that he would marry Yuriy’s niece, Elena Pushkova. I didn’t think it was a good idea as I knew that the two of them had been rivals in high school—but it worked out quite well.
Yes, it took some time for Elena and Riccardo to find their way around each other. After all, Elena had spent eight years hiding from her family and raising Riccardo’s son in secret, so they had quite a few things to resolve. But now they are obnoxiously in love, and Elena is even carrying his second child. What a sweet story that leaves everyone happy, huh?
Only it isn’t. Because the Russians have been not been very good at keeping their promises.
They helped us once, okay, but it was because Elena and her son were in danger. The Bratva showed up in the middle of our fight with the Mexicans and saved the day—but that was the only time they were actually helpful. But ever since that day, the Russians have been quiet about their part of the deal.
The Bratva is supposed to help us deal with the Mexicans and avenge Cassio, but it looks like they don’t give a shit. Well, at least they don’t try to kill our men, steal our territories, and take over the crown of Chicago, so thanks for that. Although with this new piece of information from Adrian, I can’t be sure anymore.
After the Mexicans’ blatant betrayal, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a Russian knife in our back. But it’s too early to think about it. One recruit being weirded out by a girl’s behavior isn’t enough of a reason to switch our attention from the Mexicans.
I spend the next couple of hours driving from one observation point to the other, checking other guards and asking about the Mexican car. Everyone says they’ve seen nothing, and it starts to piss me off. It’s impossible for the goddamn car to appear out of nowhere, right? They had to have crossed the border somewhere!
The sun is already setting when I reach the southern part of our border with Bridgeview and slow down on the road near the stadium. It’s quiet, and the parking lot is empty save for a couple of cars, so I guess there’s no soccer practice today. I see the invisible border of Bridgeview where it meets Bedford Park, and that’s where the thought strikes me.
Bedford Park mostly consists of railroads and heavy industrial buildings that no one in the Mafia world is truly interested in. It’s considered a neutral territory and a good place for doing business. Plenty of deals have been stricken here, among the industrial rails, crumbling buildings, and never-ending hum of factories.
Wouldn’t it be a perfect place for crossing our borders away from unwanted eyes? Especially as we don’t have anyone to keep an eye on the ramp leading off Harlem Avenue—where it makes a loop and leads straight into our territory.
Bedford Park is considered a calm enough place that we don’t expect guests from there, and that’s exactly why the Mexicans would use it! God, how could I not see it earlier?
I feel a rush of adrenaline and excitement as I park a dozen feet away from the bridge. The hum and vibrations of the cars driving through Harlem Avenue fill my ears as soon as I get out, but I barely pay attention to the sounds. What’s important right now is to find out if my theory is correct—and my heart picks up its pace when I see evidence just a couple of minutes later.
Even in the growing twilight, I notice a couple of gravel paths wide enough for a car to weave along and over the rails, and one of them leads straight to the road. You wouldn’t see them on the map, and no one in my family cares enough to remember that they exist. It’s damn brilliant!
I’m sure it’s not gonna stop the Mexicans from sneaking into our territory any chance they have, but at least we’ll be ready to catch them here. All I need is to let Riccardo know, so I reach for my phone.
The bright screen blinds me in the darkness, but before I clear my vision I catch the sound of steps behind me—and the next moment I feel a cold touch of metal on my neck. Shit. Is that a gun?
Chapter 2 - Sasha
I press my gun to the back of Louis’s neck and breathe out through the black linen of my mask. My heart is pounding, my body is taut with adrenaline, and it feels like my mind is floating somewhere above me.God, is this really happening?
It’s been years since I swore to myself that I would kill Louis Messina, it’s beenyears—and finally, he’s in my hands. I lick my lips. Damn, what a powerful feeling.
“Okay, okay, I got it,” he says all of a sudden, speaking over the hum of cars on the bridge, and slowly raises his hands above his head. “I’m gonna behave, I promise.”
I can’t help but huff under my breath. Hepromises, huh? As if his words can be trusted.
“See? My hands are empty.”
Louis even wiggles his hands a little, but I press my gun deeper into his skin, forcing him to stop. I don’t like his little jests, they always make him look like a clown. Isn’t he gonna try to save himself? I would enjoy watching him beg for mercy much more than putting up with his stupid, ever-confident persona once again.
“Alright, you don’t like it, I see.” Louis clears his throat and moves his head to the side as if trying to catch a glimpse of me. “Well then, whatdoyou like? Tell me what you want, and then—”
