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“How is Imalia?” I ask.
His expression softens. “She’s doing amazing. And she is the best mom ever to our two kids, Anastasia and Ivan.” There’s a long pause before he continues, and I can tell there’s something else he wants to say. “I know she’d love for you to meet them, Remy.”
I clench my jaw at the idea. While I accepted my daughters’ rebellious streaks, Imalia went too far. She inflamed the tension between our families and made the war ten times worse. “I’ll think about it.”
He smiles, but there’s that insane look in his eyes. “Perfect. So it sounds like you are in a pickle with the Vishekov Bratva. Am I right?”
I run my hands through my hair. “Yes.”
He nods his head and takes a deep breath. “Let me guess, you want me to help you out?”
There’s no other way around it. I need him if I’m going to get Ella back safe and sound, as he knows his way around the world of the Bratva. “He’s taken her to Las Vegas.”
He laughs. “That’s not good.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because that means she’s in Egorov Bratva territory.”
“They aren’t an ally of yours?” I confirm.
He shakes his head. “They’re not an ally of anyone other than the Vishekov Bratva, since Damien Egorov is Gregor Vishekov’s brother-in-law.”
I nod. “We know they have ties with the bratva there.”
Spartak taps a finger on his chin. “Are you asking me to overstep my mark and help you retrieve a girl I don’t fucking know or care about in another Bratva’s territory?”
I nod.
He laughs, and it’s a laugh that only adds to the psycho vibes he emits. “I love it. It’s going to get bloody. But those fuckers think they can take a piece of Chicago, and they’ll be met with backlash from the Volkov Bratva.”
Massimo clears his throat. “So we can count on your help?”
Spartak nods. “Not myself, personally. I don’t have a death wish, but I’ll send a few of my best men with you.”
I exhale a sigh of relief. Spartak may be crazy, but he wants to protect his territory, so he’s willing to help and stray onto another’s turf. “Thank you.” I hold out my hand to him.
He takes it and yanks me close. “I think this deserves at least a dinner to hear your niece’s side of the story, don’t you?” His voice gives away his true motive, that he is only doing this to help mend bridges with me and Imalia.
“Sure. Whatever you want. When it’s over, I’ll hear Imalia out.”
He smirks. “Perfect.” He claps Massimo on the shoulder. “My men are already on the way here. I assumed you’d want to move quickly and arranged their arrival before I left. If you are three hours behind Vishekov, time is of the essence.” He winks and then strides out.
The motherfucker knew I’d agree to his deal. The clock is ticking, and we’ve got to get Ella back before Vishekov hurts her.
Massimo stands, his hands resting on the back of a chair. “We should take our jet and our best men to Las Vegas.” He throws a glance my way, his expression full of determination. “We have an Italian contact there, an ally who’s well connected. He’ll help us remain as covert as possible.” His voice is steady, a comforting sound amid chaos. “We can use this to our advantage. Stay under the radar, move swiftly, and strike when the time is right.”
“Do we know where in Las Vegas they’re keeping Ella?” Leo asks.
Edoardo stands from the worn leather couch holding a document, his eyes hard and focused. “We have a list,” he states. “All the places run by the Egorov Bratva in Las Vegas. It’s an extensive list of forty establishments, homes, and hidden compounds. They will move hostages often to ensure they can’t be rescued easily.”
I take the document and growl. “How do we narrow forty down to one?”
Giuseppe clears his throat. “We start from the top and work our way down. We’ve got enough men to cover all bases.”
I shake my head. “We can’t go charging into Las Vegas with an army. And with just a few men it will take too long.”
Antoni nods. “I’ve got to say I agree. We need a better plan of attack.”
