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Chapter 3
ALEXEI
Two months later…
We’ve set up cameras near Terrero’s mansion and places she tends to use to bring in new shipments of slaves.
The first two months, I watched her from LA, gathering as much information as possible on her. We arrived in Columbia yesterday, and keeping a low profile, Demitri arranged a place for us to stay with one of our contacts. It’s a simple-looking house, squashed into an overcrowded area, that won’t attract any attention.
My gaze flits over all the screens, and not seeing anything of value, boredom begins to weigh down on me.
This is the part I hate most. Waiting for the right moment to strike.
I’m tempted to call my brother and every other favor owed to me so I can just get the attack over with. But acting out of boredom would be stupid.
“It’s been two months,” Demitri mutters. “Either Sonia never leaves the compound, or she’s coming and going without us noticing.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if she crawled through tunnels like the rat she is. See if you can get a map of what’s beneath the property.”
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I begin to check my bank accounts. Call me materialistic, but seeing what I’ve worked my ass off for calms me.
“Is that…?” Demitri murmurs as he leans closer to the screen showing the front of the mansion. “Is that the daughter?”
My eyes lift to the screen, and I watch as Isabella Terrero comes out of the mansion. She looks like any other socialite as she walks to the Audi parked by the foot of the steps.
Resting my elbow on the armrest of my chair, I rub my thumb over my bottom lip. “Yeah. That’s the princess.”
“We could take her to lure Sonia out,” Demitri mentions.
I shake my head. “Sonia won’t do shit to get her daughter back. We’d stand a better chance of getting her attention by taking a shipment.”
Demitri lifts an eyebrow at me. “Why don’t we do that?”
“Because it will only get her attention. There’s no guarantee it will draw her out of that fucking fortress.”
“True.” Demitri relaxes back in his chair.
My gaze goes back to the screen showing Isabella steering the Audi away from the mansion. An SUV follows behind her. Probably her guards.
With nothing else of interest happening on the screens, I spend the rest of the day making business arrangements with Semion Aulov and Lev Petrov. They’re part of the bratva and stationed in Russia, so I allow them to handle things on that side of the world.
After having an early dinner, I catch up on some sleep before relieving Demitri so he can rest. It’s just past midnight, and I’m staring at the screens showing all angles of the compound when a black figure scales one of the side walls.
The person is small enough to be a woman.
Fuck, please let it be Sonia.
I’m up from my chair in a second, and grabbing my backpack that holds my rifle, I leave the house. I send Demitri a message letting him know I’m out scouting, and I activate the tracker in the tag hanging from the chain around my neck. That way, Demitri will be able to find me if something goes wrong.
A moment later, Demitri responds.
Demitri: I’m going to fucking kick your ass.
Alexei: I activated the tracker. I’m just scouting.
Demitri: Don’t do anything else without me there to back you.
Alexei: And people wonder why I don’t do relationships. You’re clingy enough for me.
Demitri: Fucker.
Demitri: Be safe.
Alexei: Always. I’ll be an hour at most.
Bringing the camera feed up on my phone, I steer the unmarked SUV I’m using while in Columbia in the direction of my target.
I reach a safe spot to follow the person from, and taking a pair of binoculars from my backpack, I get a closer look at the target. When the figure stops and glances behind them in the direction of where I’m parked in the shadows, a frown forms on my forehead.
A street light sheds some light on her features, and I feel a flicker of disappointment that it’s not Sonia but Isabella. She’s dressed in workout gear. As if she’s out jogging.
Which isn’t fucking weird at all, seeing as it’s past midnight.
The frown remains on my face, and out of curiosity and boredom, I watch as she crosses a street.
There’s something familiar about her movements, but before I can try to figure out what it is, Isabella walks to a shed that’s on the side of a vacated house. The property is worse for wear and wouldn’t attract any attention.
Interesting.
She’s in there for a while, and my eyebrow lifts when she pushes a motorcycle out of the shed. She’s changed out of her workout clothes into black leather pants, a jacket, and boots. She’s also grabbed a backpack that’s snug on her back as she climbs onto the machinery that’s nothing short of a masterpiece.
She’s got taste. I’ll give her that.
When she steers the motorcycle onto the street, I pull the unmarked SUV away from the curb and follow at a safe distance.
I don’t know much about Isabella Terrero. Only that she trained at St. Monarch’s and that she’s the same as any other socialite. Up until now, she’s done nothing to make me think she’ll even take over from Sonia. So my focus has been on the mother instead of the daughter.
Okay, little princess, you’ve got my attention. What are you up to?
