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“Like you, we are resourceful in many ways.” Havel crossed his arms. “Why are we being detained? We didn’t disrupt the meeting.”
“Da, you’re right. In fact, quite the opposite. You didn’t participate at all. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were here to gather information.” One eyebrow crawled higher as though he was amused. “Does your Pakhan know you turned informant for the Sicilian Mafia, Havel? Because as sure as I’m sitting here, there is no way in hell any of the Guzuns, including Sabira, would support what they are attempting.”
Havel’s lips compressed into a thin line.
“Let me rephrase that. I want answers, Havel. Either you give them freely, or I will make you talk. Your choice.” Andrei ignored the man on the left struggling to breathe as Oleg caught him around the neck in a stranglehold. “So, let’s try this again. How did you know about this meeting, and who gave you the coordinates?”
Havel straightened and looked between Andrei and his comrade. “There’s no need for that. Let him go.”
“I suggest you start talking, my once dear friend since your comrade is turning blue already.”
“Gabriel Dalca.”
Oleg released his captive at the wave of Andrei’s hand.
“Of course, my dear cousin,” he said thoughtfully. “You do know that he’s not part of the Red Bratva anymore?”
“I heard,” Havel said gruffly. “Look, Andrei, I know this seems… unconventional, but all isn’t as it seems.” He shook his head. “Not only for us but for other groups as well.”
“You’re being blackmailed.” Andrei wasn’t surprised as Havel nodded with misery stamped over his face.
“I assume your Pakhan isn’t part of this act?”
“No. Gareth Sanders approached me personally, with the assistance of Michal Bielak, the Koval Bratva’s ex-Communication Avtoritet.”
Andrei listened uninterrupted as Havel relayed the meeting and the demands made by Sanders.
“To protect Sabira, we decided to keep the incident from her. When Gabriel contacted me, it was with an instruction to attend and, yes, gather as much information as possible.” Havel looked Andrei square in the eye. “We came here to reach out to you for help.”
“Did Sanders indicate at that meeting that Gabriel would be the mediator? The one issuing orders to you on his behalf—Gabriel, not Michal or himself?”
“No.” Havel frowned. “I got the impression he preferred to be personally in charge of every Bratva group leader. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person who trusted others to be as committed as he was to the cause he was forcing on us.”
“But Gabriel expects you to report the information you gathered here today back to him, I assume.”
“Yes, he made sure to repeat that instruction twice,” Havel confirmed with a sour look on his face. “The little prick presented himself as Sanders’ most trusted ally.”
“Hmm, so, my dear cousin Gabriel is once again playing on both sides of the fence… interesting.” Andrei leaned back in the chair. “The question is, who is on the other side of the fence? Well, let’s not disappoint him. I’ll give you information to relay to him. Something that will trigger a reaction beneficial to all of us. Once a traitor, always a traitor. It’s a lesson Sanders has yet to learn.” He got up and shook Havel’s hand. “In the meantime, keep mum about all of this. Sabira Guzun won’t be safe if she finds out what is happening in her territory. It’s best that she remains ignorant.”
“I agree.” Havel hesitated on his way to the door. “Thank you, Andrei. I don’t know what happened between you and the Guzuns, but one thing I do know, regardless of how feared you are as the Pakhan of the Red Bratva, deep down, you are a good, compassionate man.”
“Don’t be fooled by the façade, my friend.”
“Da,” Havel grimaced. “The question is, which part of you is the real Andrei… do you still know?”
Andrei watched them leave with a stony expression. It was a question that had been haunting him of late. Truth be known, he couldn’t answer it. For the thin line between what was and what is had slowly been dissipating.
There was only the now. The present… this moment in time.
Chapter Fifteen
Three days later, Valley's Lake, Codru, Moldova…
Vanya surreptitiously watched Andrei from across the room, her heart aching and her mind confused. She struggled to hide the feelings still burning as fiercely as ever inside her, especially since he regarded her with cold indifference.
She studied his tall, broad-shouldered frame as he stood gazing pensively out the window overlooking the lake. He had disappeared for two days and returned yesterday without any explanation as to where he had gone. It stung more deeply than she cared to admit that he acted as if their passionate encounter in the forest had never happened. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her body, his lips trailing fire across her skin. While she remembered every detail in vivid technicolor, he seemed to have deleted it from his mind entirely.
As much as it pained her, none of the tumultuous feelings showed on her face. As a Mafiosa, she never showed weakness. No one would know that late at night when she was alone, she allowed the tears to fall silently into her pillow over the man she had lost. Vanya yearned to reach through his aloof façade and reconnect with the man she fell in love with, but the icy detachment in his eyes warned her away.
