AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah. Before my brothers killed him in Sarasota, he told us he set up my father and the Brotherhood 7 by killing Olek Moroz instead of the Brotherhood’s real target. Who we also plugged, by the way. Not sure if that news got to you. So you’d better be very fucking afraid right now. I came for revenge and I’m gonna get it.”
Hadeon takes a few steps closer. “Arseny was one of my father’s business partners. Why the fuck would he kill someone he worked with? Someone who made him a shit ton of money?”
My throat clenches tight.
Business partner? They fucking worked together? How the hell didn’t my brothers catch that?
Flames of anger rage through me like a lit match tossed into a dry cornfield.
That rat ass Olek played me. If he really was working with Arseny, he never had any intention of signing our deal since Arseny and my father were rivals. My dad was on a quest to destroy an international sex trafficking ring run by two brothers who were in bed with Arseny.
If Olek had ties to Arseny, then he might have associated with the leaders of that sex trafficking ring, too. We killed one of them recently, but the other is still in hiding, no doubt waiting to strike.
Why the fuck would my father have wanted to work with Olek Moroz if he had ties to that sex trafficking ring? Years after Dad’s murder, we’re still trying to pull all the jagged pieces of the puzzle together, to make sense of what happened on the day he died and everything that led up to that point. But there are too many moving parts, too many enemies, and way too much betrayal.
Case in point, my brother Dima.
How fucking deep are my father’s secrets? Because it seems like every few months we uncover a new one and someone gets shot, blown up, or killed as a result.
Nobody knows his truth. And maybe nobody ever will.
The web tangles, silk threads wrapping tighter and tighter around me, holding me captive.
They say the truth shall set you free, but the only truths I’ve ever uncovered in this life have gotten me closer to death than I’d like to admit.
“They” are fucking ignorant idiots who clearly have no idea how the underworld works.
Larysa shivers beside me, holding the sides of her robe closed. I have one hand snaked around her waist, the other holding the gun to her temple. My fingertips warm as they press into her flesh. I torment myself by dragging in a deep breath, inhaling the orangey scent of her hair.
I grit my teeth.
I hate her. I hate them all for what they did to us. I hate that I couldn’t stop all of this when I had the chance. Fuck, I should have killed Olek myself. If I’d have done that hit, there’d have been no security footage to salvage. I’d have torched everything and walked away without a look back.
Jesus, is there anyone on the planet whodoesn’twanna fuck us over?
The hairs on the back of my neck shoot up, my fingertips sliding over the silky material as I catch her hip.
I have to kill her. That’s the objective, no matter what has the head of my cock tingling right now.
Another beeping sound blares into the tense air, jerking me from my tormented thoughts. The alarm alerts us that the sliding glass door to the pool just opened. Muscles in my legs tense, the flight instinct kicking in.
Then my eyes tangle again with the baby’s. I recoil at the glare she flashes in return. What the hell?
She’s too young to be able to do that.
A high-pitched shriek interrupts the dueling voices. High heels click clack across the floor, then clamber toward the foyer where we all face-off.
“Gigi,” Larysa says in a quivering voice when the young girl walks into the space, her clothes stained a deep red. “Whose blood is that?”
“Th-there’s a m-man on the floor.” Gigi’s skin turns white when she looks around and sees the guns. “And he’s—”
Her next words are swallowed by a barrage of bullets. They shatter the glass wall behind her, pane by pane. Bullets pop and crack as they explode into the air, tearing through sofas and chairs, blasting picture frames, mirrors, and vases.
We’re under siege.
But the question is — who’s the actual fucking target?
Them…or me?
