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“Stop. Stand still right there. They’re coming for you and this will be done,” he stated through clenched teeth.
“You’re part of this?” she asked him.
“I made this happen. Are you kidding me? You think I didn’t know your mother was a fucking whore who got knocked up by a Russian mobster?” he yelled at her and she looked at her mother who appeared scared with her eyes wide and bulging.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Save it, Nalia. You’re as good as dead once you pop out a kid for the Scarlapetti family.”
“Fuck you. The police will find out about this. You’ll go to jail.”
“No, you will. Because you just killed your father, a made man in a parking garage on the east side. Then you came here and killed your mother.”
“What? I did not kill him or my mother.”
“Well, your fingerprints are on the gun. They set it all up. Right about now Nicolai Merkovicz is probably finding out about how you killed his right-hand man, your father, and then your mother. You’re on a hit list. You’re as good as dead,” he said to her, practically smirking.
She was shaking, she was so angry and confused. “I didn’t kill him and I didn’t kill my mother.”
She jumped and screamed as he pulled the trigger and shot her mom.
“No. No!” she cried out and ran to her.
Raymond grabbed her hair and pulled her back as he pressed the gun to her head.
She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Her father was dead and now her mother, too. She was shaking and feeling helpless.
“I know everything about you. I worked your mother over all these years and finally got what was coming to me. I know your every move. I’m going to bring you to Vincent myself. You’re going to fuck him. Give him the kids he wants to secure the bloodline and take over the territory he wants. Your piece of shit father killed Vincent’s brother and cousin.”
He lifted her up and started pulling her across the room. She glanced at her mom, her tears streaming down her face at the sight of all the blood. He killed her. She was dead and so was Karlicov.
Anger pooled in Nalia’s belly. She couldn’t let him get away with this. She wouldn’t let Vincent either.
“No. No, I’m not going with you,” she screamed at him and he struck her with the gun in the back of the head. She remembered her father’s words. Run. Trust no one. She had to get away. She had to go into survival mode. She had to.
“You don’t know everything about me. You know nothing,” she screamed at him.
“I know you’re weak like your mother,” he said and when he lowered the gun to drag her she used one of the moves that Boian had taught her and got free. Raymond’s eyes widened and she shifted and thrust her hand upward, knocking the gun from his hands. He grabbed for her and struck her repeatedly but she didn’t give up. She fought for her life and countered his moves, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He shoved at her, trying to get her off of him as he banged her body against the cabinets and then the curio closet in the corner of the room. Fragile pieces her mother collected over the years shattered and rained over them but she kept her grip and tightened, letting the anger, the determination to live shove her into action. She screamed and cried, thinking of how he killed her mother and how she now had no one and was going to become the hunted.
He fell back on top of her on the floor. She gasped, losing her breath but then held on tight. She couldn’t let go. She needed to kill him and get away from here. He struggled to get free and she remembered her training and instinctively went for the move. She twisted and heard the crack. His body went limp and she released him, shoved him away, and pulled from underneath him.
She was shaking, she was so scared and sick. She looked at Raymond, eyes open. She’d killed him. She actually killed someone. Then came the anger again. Her father was dead, her mother, too, because of Raymond. She ran to her mother and checked her pulse then cried as she felt nothing. She wanted to die right here and end it all. She continued to cry and hold her face to her mother’s arm, sobbing. Then she remembered her father’s words.
Run. Don’t trust anyone.
She jumped up and wiped her tears. She ran for the basement and went to the corner and the hidden spot in the back of the room no one ever bothered with. She shoved aside the old spider webs and dead insects. She reached inside and pulled out the two bags. Guns, money, burner phones, knives, and ammunition. She took a deep breath and stared into the old mirror, barely seeing her full reflection. Life was over as she knew it. She was on the run. She was all alone and Vincent Scarlapetti would one day die because of what he did to her and her family.
Chapter 1
“Where is she?” Karlicov asked as he slowly awoke in the hospital. He coughed and Nicolai was there to comfort him. He held his gaze with a firm expression.
“We do not know.”
“What do you mean, Nicolai? How long has it been?” he asked and tried sitting up. He cringed from the pain.
Storm was there to help him. “Easy, Karlicov. You were shot twice and we all thought you weren’t going to make it. It was touch and go there for a while,” Storm informed him.
“How long?” he repeated.
