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He now wore the same expression on his face as the day he’d gone after the bastards who murdered his family.
“We’re going to find her,” I reassured him, as I holstered my own guns. I’d be driving.
He didn’t say anything, his eyes empty as he checked his weapons. “That we will,” he vowed.
Together, we walked to the garage and loaded up an SUV. Two soldiers met us by the car, Michael and Adrian. They were good kids, reliable, young, and most importantly, had a loose sense of morality that wouldn’t be shaken by the damage we were about to do.
Adrian hopped behind the wheel, eyeing me as I climbed into the backseat. “Where to, boss?”
“Corner of 4th and Bruce, South.” Arkady Petrov, the Bratva’s money man, would be taking his morning coffee at a tiny cafe, surrounded by mid-level soldiers. I checked the street cameras, and he was just arriving.Fucking idiot.Nikolai should have warned his fucking men to stay home today, after he’d snatched our woman.
Our tires squealed as Adrian slammed on the breaks then backed up onto the sidewalk in front of the cafe. Passersby scattered, shouting and screaming. He remained in the car as the rest of us leapt out.
I shot the glass facade of the cafe twice, shattering it, then leapt in, my leather gloves taking the brunt of the shards of glass around the edges.
Pop! Pop!Liam took out two Russian soldiers who should have leapt to their feet and started shooting the moment we parked the vehicle. What were they thinking? Fucking laziness.
Adrian and I trained our guns on the remaining soldiers, and Petrov, while Liam quickly triaged those in the cafe. He grabbed the owner by the collar of his shirt. “Tell fucking Nikolai this will fucking continue until he returns Ginevra,” and threw him out the door. The man scrambled to his feet and dashed away, hopefully calling the head of the Bratva as he fled in terror.
Liam stalked toward Petrov. When one of the three remaining soldiers tried to defend the accountant, Liam yanked him up, disarmed him, and then slit his throat from behind, spraying blood everywhere. I sighed. There was a reason we typically unleashed him for interrogations rather than street battles.
Before he could do more damage, I shot the last two soldiers in the head. Liam yanked Petrov to standing by his hair. “Arkady Petrov, good morning.”
Petrov trembled as Liam slammed him into a wall, then traced a bloody knife down his face. “You have something of mine,” Liam growled. “Where is she?”
The Russian shook his head. His terror was evident. Perhaps he’d thought his position as the Bratva’s accountant protected him. Normally it would. It took days for street wars to percolate up to the leadership of the various gangs in Yorkfield. Not this time. The Bratva shouldn’t have gone after our fucking wife.
We bound his hands and feet, then threw him in the trunk of the vehicle before speeding back to our office building. Rian wanted Petrov interrogated without the Russos listening in.
The operation had been remarkably easy. Why? It didn’t make any sense, unless Nikolai had been telling the truth last night, that he didn’t have Ginevra, and so didn’t feel he needed to take precautions.
Cormac: We have Petrov.
Rian: I have Lebedev. Meet you there.
Declan texted separately. His crew hadn’t found Yuri Semenov, the Bratva’s number two. Fuck. He was the big one—he’d been gunning for Ginevra, and if he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, then the odds were, he was involved.
Antonio Russo was on the phone with Nikolai when we pulled into his house. When he saw us, he switched to speakerphone. “Nikolai, you can have them back when I get my daughter back.”
“I don’t fucking have your daughter, Russo,” the head of the Bratva shouted.
“Then I suggest you find out why your people kidnapped her and then burned down my fucking warehouses!”
“I had nothing to do with your warehouses,” the Russian growled. “I asked for twenty-four hours. It’s not my fucking fault your security is absolute shit. Alexi Marino is your man, not mine.”
I snatched the phone out of Antonio’s hand. “You expect us to leave Ginevra in whatever hellhole your people have her stashed for twenty-four hours? Fucking find her, Nikolai. Where is Yuri Semenov?”
Nikolai didn’t respond.
Liam’s grin was feral. “Hide your daughters, Nikolai. They’re next.”
30
GINEVRA
“Ihave to fucking pee!” I shouted. Nobody had answered my pleas, and I was about to lose it. Just in time, the light above me flicked on, and a hulking shadow emerged from the darkness. “Hey, help me, please!”
The man was huge and built like a bear. His head was shaved, and his pale skin was covered in tattoos. I eyed him with caution. He wasn’t here to help. The tattoos were evidence of time spent in Russian prisons. When he dropped a hood over my head, I screamed and struggled harder against the duct tape that bound me to the chair.
