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My father has always had high expectations for me, and I’ve always done my best to fulfill them. Even when I hated the task assigned to me. I have no problem killing people, but I do have a problem with selling them against their will. He swears to me that he is working on shutting down the human trafficking rings, but I’m not so sure he’s willing to give up the money they bring in.
I head to his office, having no doubt he’s still there. Before we lost mama, he would be home by seven every evening to sit and have dinner with the two of us. It's been eight years since we’ve sat at the same table to eat a meal together in our home. Work became everything to him, nothing outside mattered anymore. He had a private suite created above his office so he never had to leave, and I had the pleasure of growing up being raised by random people he hired along the way.
As soon as he brought me into the business, I planned to do the same. Hence why we built our offices right outside our hidden home. Damien was the first to suggest it, needing to get space from his father. Lev and I have seen the scars, but ever since we brought them up that one time, we vowed never to talk about it again because of how Damien reacted. I have no doubts about who’s given him the gift of all that pain, and I plan to one day make his father suffer just as much for the damage he’s caused.
I’ve never been good at emotional stuff. Talking is not my strong suit. But murder, or rather making murder look like an accident, that’s my skill set. Damien’s father has a heavy drinking habit. It wouldn’t be hard to make it look like he died of something as simple as liver failure. Hopefully, one day soon.
I let myself into my father’s office, and sure enough he is sitting at his desk going through what looks like some old files.
“We have a plan. Expect us to be unreachable for the next eight days or so. We will be taking a plane in the morning and heading to New York.” My father’s eyes shoot up.
“New York? What could you possibly find in New York that you can’t find here in Russia or even Europe?”
My father has a great dislike for Americans.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, walking to stand in front of his desk. “I don’t want to bring any bad blood to our territory if I can help it. The whole point is to prove I can keep our people safe, and we will do that by not starting any more problems here.”
He nods understanding me. His brows furrow, and his eyes slide back to the old files on his desk. “Anything I can help with?” I ask.
“No, I just lost someone very important a long time ago. I thought I had a lead, but everything keeps turning up as dead ends.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. He looks tired and worn out.
“Want some fresh eyes on it? Maybe I can give it a second look?” Instantly he shakes his head at me.
“I’m afraid I lost this one for good. It changes my plans for how we will move forward with our organization. I’m just angry, finding this person would have changed so much for us. I’m holding onto old dreams. You are our future, son. You will do better than me.” My father stands and stretches his back.
I just stand there with my lips parted, unable to believe what my father said. That's the biggest compliment he’s ever given me.
“Are you staying here tonight or headed home?” I ask him, snapping out of my shock.
“I’ll stay here. I have a call at four in the morning our time with some buyers overseas. Might as well try to get a few hours of sleep in before that.” He pats me on the shoulder as he walks to the door in his office leading to private stairs to his floor suite. “Goodnight, son.”
I cross back to my father's desk and pick up the file he was looking at. This is a man that rarely admits defeat.
Damir and Liv Petrov
I know those names, but I don’t know why he would still be searching for their kid, they were ruled dead years ago. I lay the file back where it was, making a mental note to come back to it when we get done at the university.
Chapter 3
The past two weeks have exhausted me. I spent the first week researching my marks and reading everything I could find about them. They had too many people watching them for me to get close to tailing them, but I was still able to get some information from a few of our eyes in the area.
This past week I spent with Havoc, every day from dawn to dusk we fought and talked strategy. He helped me find a few weak spots I had while defending myself with my blades. I was feeling ready when it came to our combat and weapons classes. The physical work I was good at, but the memorization work and test-taking are where I struggle. I may have graduated high school at fifteen, but I had a shit ton of tutors on top of working my ass off.
I trained briefly with our tech guy as well, needing to make sure I could keep my spare phone encrypted and maintain secure lines. When I was younger, Mac and I spent a lot of time together before my uncle would let me into the ring with the guys. He taught me a lot about computers and coding. In the evenings, he would set up scenarios where I could practice said coding and securing firewalls. Once I got older, we would video chat, and he would walk me through the difficult codes and teach me new shortcuts. He was happy to help me with this, knowing just how long I’ve worked for my goals.
Now I’m sitting on my bed, trying to decide about the Cosa Nostra challenge. It only briefly irritates me that the leaders of Elysium were called ‘The Kings’. If I win, that will definitely change. Queens are known to be more powerful and more ruthless anyways. I've had to learn a lot of skills to be a part of my uncle's world, but stealing a car isn’t one of those skills.
A knock sounds at my door, “Come in,” I say.
“Hey, Little Warrior,” my uncle says, walking to sit beside me on my bed. “I see you’ve been working hard these past two weeks. Have you decided your next move?” he asks gently.
“I haven’t,” I say, crossing my legs on the bed. “I can’t decide what role I need to play here. Should I show my hand, let them see my skills, and attempt the challenge? Or should I stay in the background, attempting to appear easy to control so I can get close to my marks? What if I fail and my worst nightmare comes true?” I let the questions that have been wracking my brain for the past two weeks pour out of me.
“I think that like calls to like. Even the most powerful men in the world need someone to put them in their place, and that kind of woman is rare.” We both laugh at that.
“Who puts you in your place, Uncle?” I ask with a grin.
“No one, until recently,” he says like it's a confession. “You’re the only one who has ever questioned me or told me no. You have a fire in you, Little Warrior. Your marks will see that even if you try to hide it. When they first see your fire, make them think they're in control and then, when you're ready, let the inferno burn them to the ground.”
