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“So, what can I help you with, Mrs. Leone?” I ask and lean back, spreading my right arm over the back of a neighboring chair. “I was rather surprised to get your message.”
“A little birdie told me you’ve recently engaged in a new business venture. I have a proposition for you—a mutually beneficial affiliation.”
One of my eyebrows shoots up. Word travels fast in our circles, but still, it’s concerning that she got wind of such information so soon. “I thought you’re getting your guns from Endri Dushku?”
“Yes. But I’m looking to make new alliances.” Her blood-red lips pull into a smile.
“Endri and I have an understanding. We don’t step on each others’ toes. I’ll think about your offer and let you know my decision.”
Nera Leone rises from her seat. “Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Popov.”
I follow her with my eyes as she leaves the diner, her two men trailing close behind. They get inside the cars and pull onto the road, raising a cloud of dust from the loose gravel around the potholes marring the lot.
“Boston faction has been working with Dushku for years,” Filip says. “Why the change of heart so suddenly?”
“No idea.”
Across the street, movement within a derelict motel attracts my attention. A man in a black coat steps out from the farthest room on the ground level. He meets my gaze and holds it for a moment. As I reach inside my jacket for the gun in my shoulder holster, the man breaks our eye contact and turns, heading around the building. His steps are sure and steady, so I get a good look at his long jet-black hair, twisted into a thick braid, and a black rectangular case hanging over his left shoulder.
“Is that what I think it is?” Filip asks next to me.
“Yes. The guy is casually strolling around carrying a sniper rifle on his back. And I’m pretty sure he had us in his crosshairs the entire time we were meeting. That room he just left is directly across from the diner; the window has a clear line of sight to the table I was sitting at.”
“You think he’s one of Nera’s goons?”
A black sports car pulls out from behind the motel, then heads the same way as the Italians.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “But I have a feeling that if we had given off the slightest indication of harming that woman, we’d both be lying on the ground. With holes through our heads.”
Filip and I get in our respective vehicles, turning in the opposite direction than Leone’s brigade.
We’re half an hour from the house when my phone goes off on the dashboard. My gaze snaps to the screen showing Relja’s name. The phone rings twice, then stops. A signal for me—something is wrong at the club.
Fuck. I hit the gas pedal. A look at the rearview mirror confirms that Filip is accelerating as well, his phone pressed to his ear and probably getting all the details from one of our men.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone starts to ring and vibrate again, and this time, it keeps going, setting off a clusterfuck of panic in my head.
The house is under attack.
The lights go out.
Did a fuse blow? I move my notebook away and climb off the bed, feeling my way to the balcony door.
The outdoor lights are off as well, and none of the other windows are lit. The grounds around the house are shrouded in absolute darkness, except for the two specks of light beyond the trees at the main gate. What the fuck?
The bedroom door bursts open, making me jump and swivel around.
“Get back from the window.” Adam’s voice booms from the doorway.
A faint yellow glow of the emergency lights from small recessed fixtures low on the walls just barely illuminates the space behind him as it falls onto the hallway floor.
“Adam? What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack.” He ushers Tara inside my room. I haven’t even noticed her standing behind him. “Lock yourselves inside the bathroom. When it’s over, someone will come get you.”
A loud metal bang erupts outside. The next moment, the radio in Adam’s hand cracks, then Relja’s voice fills the room.
“They’ve breached the gate.”
