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“You have somewhere else to be?”
“Very good, young blood, I guess your father taught you something.”
“I taught myself everything.”
“What do you want?” He says clenching his jaw.
“Tell Artem I want to meet his successor.”
“There is no new leader.” He frowns. “Romanov has always led the Bratva.”
“Artem is not making these moves, he’s almost in the drooling stage. Somebody is using him as a puppet.”
“Artem runs the Bratva nobody else, he is staying alive to spite you Italian bastards. Good old Russian resilience, we don’t stop until we get revenge. Let me go you piece of shit!” He says angrily.
“That is very impolite.” I say rolling my eyes.
I have no intention of leaving Ivan alive after this little meeting. It was more of a fact-finding mission. I needed to make sure that Anton was really dead and that Artem is the only one pulling the strings.
“I hope you fucking choke, cocksucker. You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?”
“You tried to kill me, and you fucked up. So, to answer, yes, I do take a little bit of pride in this scenario.”
“He who laughs now will laugh last.”
“We’ll see about that,” I say staring down at him before pulling the gun out my waistband and shooting him in the head. “Send his head to Artem, a direct message from New York.” I say to Franco.
“What about the other assailant?”
“Kill him. This is war and it’s about to get a whole lot bloodier, no mercy.”
Artem would get my ‘message’ and understand it clearly. This was no longer business, it was personal.
Damon unlocks the door and gives me fifteen minutes to get dressed and showered. The car ride is silent, and Damon doesn’t so much as glance at me. When I ask where we are going, he doesn’t reply. Then as I see the derelict building my chest plummets and I freeze in horror.
“I’m not going to kill you. Rocco really is in there. Look, that’s Franco’s car,” Damon says, pointing.
“Take me to him,” I say a little more confidently than I feel.
My heart thumps loudly through my ribcage as I walk into what feels like a dark chamber; the stench of meat and blood seeming to overtake my senses, almost making me nauseous. Damon is walking too slowly so I outrun him once I hear the echo of Rocco’s voice coming from up ahead. He shouts at me to stop but I keep running. I push open one of the doors and see Rocco standing over a bloodied man, pointing a gun at him. I’m not used to seeing Rocco this way, I know what he does for a living but there is a profound difference when seeing it up close.
He shoots the man in the head, the body falling helplessly on the floor as pools of blood stream from it. Rocco spins toward me and gives me an unsettling look that turns my insides to ice but doesn’t utter a word. Who was he? So many questions are twirling around in my head it’s making me dizzy.
“Rocco?” I say clinging to the door
“Where is Damon?” He says icily.
“Boss,” Damon says pushing me to the side. “She got out of my sight,” he says apologetically.
“I didn’t know anyone was here, I just wanted to see you,” I say timidly.
“You can leave,” he says glaring at Damon before turning to Franco and giving him the same look.
Franco doesn’t look up at me, he avoids my gaze and walks out as the door bangs shut. Damon and Franco leaving me there with Rocco and a dead guy is hardly a good sign.
“Are you hurt?”he asks, wiping his gun and putting it back in his jacket.
“No, just unsettled.”
