Page 96 of Illyria


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“Speak.”

The man had been through enough already. I wasn’t going to make him wait any longer. Taking the bull by the horns, I informed, “You were right. Sergio Pavlov worked under Petrovitch. You were right about everything. Petrovitch, Capribella and Bianchi were all working together. The orphanage you had us look into was a front, owned and operated by Petrovitch. Capribella sold the babies to the highest bidder. Petrovitch shipped the mothers to Bianchi’s in Italy, where he used them for his breeding farm. All three of them used Pavlov’s connection to Reynolds to smooth the way. With Benson Graves working the numbers, they had everything wrapped tight. No one was the wiser.”

“Maxim’s right,” Montana added. “Everything you suspected has come to fruition. Thanks to Graves, Petrovitch knows everything about all of us. He’s been biding his time, waiting for the perfect time to attack. Well, he struck. He took Illyria and now has eyes on your wife. She’s the only puzzle piece we couldn’t figure out. There is much about her past that we don’t know. But we think it has something to do with her birth parents. Only there is nothing on them. They were fucking high school sweethearts, for crying out loud. They came from normal, everyday families. They were nobodies. So, fucking far off everyone’s radar, they should have lived a relatively normal existence.” Montana growled, frustrated.

“To make matters worse, if that isn’t enough, Petrovitch discovered our mole’s identity. Last we heard, he was close to finding everything out when we received his distress signal tonight. By the time our men got to the extraction site, he was nowhere to be found. All they found was this,” I said, handing him the patch Vladmir gave me.

He said nothing as he took it from me.

His fist gripped it tightly.

“Is he dead?”

“We don’t know,” Montana sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve got my clubs out searching for him. He’s been under since the wedding. He could have gone native for all we know. Until we find him and he tells us what happened, we’re in the dark. Let’s hope your boy knows how to lie low. But we think he’s going for reinforcements.”

“Which means he’s putting everyone in danger,” I stated, adding, “I’ve sent a message and alerted them, but after everything they’ve been through, they won’t survive another attack.”

Throwing on a clean shirt, he tucked it into his jeans. Reaching back into his bag, he pulled out his leather cut. Shaking it out, he quickly put it on. After pocketing the picture, he reached for his blades, slipping them into the leather holster on his back. After securing them, he picked up his two Glocks and checked the clips to make sure they were full.

Ready for war, he zipped up his bag. Holding the handle, he threw it over his shoulder as he walked past us, heading for the door.

“What are you going to do?” Montana asked.

He stopped, turned and looked at the both of us before saying, “What I should have done in the first place.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“Reap souls.”

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