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She’d killed a member of the Russian Bratva. If I sent her back home now, she’d simply be hunted and disposed of.
I had originally intended on bringing her home with me, but the beautiful little she-devil tripped me on the stairs and sprinted off into the night. I’d done my best to keep up with her, but she was a crafty thing and disappeared within the network of alleyways in this derelict part of the city.
I hadn’t even come here knowing that I’d have to rescue a handful of women from the hands of the Bratva tonight. The only reason I was here was because my close friend and reigning mafia boss of the Montagna family, Jon Moretti, needed help rescuing his girl Mila.
I couldn’t get my mind off Kasia, so I called Hugo, my lead man.
“Find out if any of the girls speak English for me,” I stated.
“Right away, boss,” he replied. There was a scuffle I heard over the phone as he asked the women he had gathered with him.
“One girl. Irina,” he answered.
“Put her on the phone.”
There was more shuffling.
“Hello?” a shy woman asked. She was clearly still afraid. I understood completely. I’m sure the Russians had been exceedingly cruel to them, lugging them across the world as property and beating them when they had the audacity to stand up for themselves.
“Hi there, Irina. My name is James. I need to ask you a few questions and I would really appreciate if you could help me,” I began. I kept my tone soft, gentle even.
“Okay,” she answered, still a bit wary.
“The girl upstairs, the one that killed the Russian. Is her name really Kasia?”
“Yes.”
“Who is she?” I pressed.
“Her full name is Kasia Poplawski,” she answered. She stumbled over the English words a bit.
“Poplawski?” I echoed.
“Yes. Her father is Piotrek Poplawski. Bad man,” she added. She sounded a bit braver now and I was happy to hear it.
“Thank you, Irina. You’ve been so very helpful. Now go with Hugo. He’ll see to it you have a full meal, a nice shower, and a comfy bed for the night.”
“Thank you, Mr. James,” Irina replied. I hung up the phone.
I hadn’t alerted the girl, but I knew the name Poplawski. In Poland, it was infamous. The Poplawski mafia family held a vast area of territory and from what I understood, they ruled with an iron fist.
Kasia was the kingpin’s daughter.
What was a Polish mafia princess doing in the hands of the Russians? In a trafficking ring no less? I needed to know more, but more important, I needed to find her.
Immediately, I started making some calls. It was really late at night. Even here in the city, most restaurants would be closed. There might be some shops still open, but they’d be few and far between. There was a small possibility that she might sleep on the street somewhere, but I thought it might be more likely that she’d tried to find a hotel for the night.
She had money. I’d seen her sleight of hand to hide it from me. I was proud of her for thinking of a detail like that. She could get a hot meal, new clothes, and a place for the night.
What she didn’t know though was that she wouldn’t be able to hide from me. She could try, certainly, but I was going to find her wherever she went.
I wasn’t a public figure. I didn’t have a political office or a mafia family to run, but what I did have was money.
I could buy whoever I wanted whenever I needed regardless of the cost. There was nothing out of reach for me. I could buy off the mayor or the director of the police or someone as simple as a hotel owner. If a situation called for it, I could pay my way into an alliance, be it with the infamous Montagna mafia family or the Waldorfs that owned much of Manhattan.
Sam Davidson picked up right away. He was my inside man in the New York division of the FBI. His specialty was surveillance. He had cameras that covered most of the city, from traffic lights to well-traveled blocks to even the dimly lit entrances of alleys all over the state. If there was a location that he didn’t initially have eyes on, he could usually hack into the private systems of regular business owners and civilians to find what he needed.
“I need you to find someone for me,” I began.
