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I’ll confess I’m not entirely sure where to start. It’s not like people openly advertise their illegal gambling dens. There’s no big flashing sign to point me in the right direction. The only thing I can think to do is head to arguably the roughest part of the neighborhood, a small district in the south that’s seen better days. There’s a low police presence here, high levels of graffiti. I wouldn’t normally come here by myself, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Moscow at night is an entirely different beast. It’s alive with the sounds of sirens, the smell of rubbish. People are out and about, unsavory characters. The types I would normally cross the street to avoid. Tonight, though, I decide to face them head on.
A group of rough and tumble men approach, eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat. I’ve got a small canister of mace in my pocket, my thumb hovering over the trigger button, but I take a deep breath and find my resolve. I’m pregnant with Leo’s child—he may not know about it, but the thought alone is enough to get me going, to push me forward with my chin up. Worst-case scenario, I will pull the baby card if I run out of options to keep myself alive in this place. Good grief, I’m carrying a Bratva child. What would he say if I told him about this? What does it matter if it’s a Bratva child? It’s still a child. An innocent baby.Get a grip, Nikita.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” one of them asks me. His face is covered in tattoos. A few of his teeth are missing. Even a mother couldn’t love a face like that.
“I’m wondering if you can help me,” I say, speaking as calmly as possible even though I feel like I’m seconds from rattling out of my own skin.
“Oh?” he says. “What do I get in return?”
His buddies chuckle. It makes my skin crawl. I know exactly what he’s trying to imply, but I don’t give him an inch.
“Look, I’m just trying to pay back a debt.”
“To who, girly? You can give the money to me. I’ll deliver it for you.”
I lick my lips, steel my spine. “I owe the Bratva.”
There’s no denying the sudden shift in the air, a subtle imbalance. Their obvious unease tells me I’ve struck a chord.
“Who runs this place?” I ask. “This territory.” I don’t know if I'm talking out of my ass, but I’m pretty sure an organization as large and intricate as the Russian mafia needs to have a chain of command. Surely there’s a lieutenant or a captain I can talk to who’d be more than happy to point me in the right direction.
Or stab me and take my money, but I’ll get there when I get there. Hopefully, I won’t get there. I can just scream that I’m carrying Leo’s baby. I bet that’ll turn some heads. Dammit, Nikita, what did you get yourself into? I was scolding my father for getting involved with the Bratva, but haven’t I been doing the same? Not knowingly. Would it have mattered? If I’d known who Leo was from the beginning? Would I have stayed on that road in the middle of a snowstorm? I doubt it.
“We answer to Samuil,” the thug says. “We can just take the money for you.”
I stiffen. There’s no way in hell I’m going to fall for that. What if they take the money and run? “I don’t think so. Just tell me where to find him.”
“What’s wrong, girly? You don’t trust me?”
“Tell me what I want to know. This payment… It’s urgent. You don’t want me to tell Samuil you slowed me down, do you?”
The man visibly blanches. I’ve struck another nerve. “Samuil isn’t here right now, but you can probably find him at the depot.”
“What depot?”
“The taxi depot. You didn’t hear it from me, but they operate out of the Nicolaevich Brothers Taxi Company headquarters.”
Hearing the name is more painful than a slap to the face. This has to be some sort of mistake. Maybe the stress of the day has finally caught up to me and I’m hearing things.
No. No, that’s too many coincidences in a row. The dots aren’t connecting, my logic isn’t lining up. I don’t understand how it keeps circling back to Leo, but I’m realizing with growing horror that he might be the answer to everything.
* * *
I’ve been to the taxi depot once before when I tried to return his coat. It had been busy then, but even more so now. Something big is happening. There’s an almost frantic electricity in the air. I suppose it works to my advantage, because I’m able to slip in without being noticed. I make my way down the hall toward the office, startled to find a large group gathered out in the hall.
The men I saw earlier this morning at Leo’s apartment. His brothers. I cling to the shadows. None of them have spotted me yet.
“I want a full sweep,” Leo’s voice rumbles like thunder. “Leave no stone unturned. They couldn’t have gotten very far. Do we have our men posted at all the exits to the city?”
“Yes,” someone answers. A woman. Sandra or Charlotte. They sound exactly the same so I have no idea. “They won’t be able to slip past us. Provided they haven’t already left.”
“I want them brought in alive,” someone else speaks. He sounds like the one in charge. “I know you’re angry, Leo, but we can’t risk a gunfight on the streets. We’re going to take care of this quietly.”
“My reputation’s at stake here,” Leo hisses. He doesn’t sound like the same person I’ve come to care for. I hear the anger dripping off every syllable, can feel his rage radiating from the room. “Those bastards made a fool of me. Justice needs to be swift.”
“I don’t disagree, but we need to handle this carefully. You’ve left us in a vulnerable position. You’ve proven that people can steal from the Bratva and potentially get away with it.”
