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"At home, I assume." And I really hope so.
"Alright, well, I don't know what to tell you."Tell me what it is, get to the point."We just saw someone like her driving into Orland Park."
Oh, shit. It's the biggest part of the Bratva’s territories.
I slam on my brakes at the intersection and close my eyes with a groan. Goddamnit. She’s gonna get herself in trouble, and—shit. Isn’t Nikolai’s place in Orland Park? I grip my wheel tightly, barely fighting the urge to hit something. Doesn’t she understand how fucking dangerous that is?
“Thanks, Omero.” I clench my jaw and focus on the road in front of me as I make a sharp turn toward Orland Park. “I’ll check on her.”
I can’t let Sasha get killed because of her own weird obsession with revenge, but I don’t think my own family would appreciate me going straight into the Russians’ territory on my own. So I keep it quiet and drive between our posts with the confidence of a man knowing what he’s doing. I have to play it cool, and then, even if someone spots me they may not report it right away.
For this reason, I have to drive slowly, but it’s killing me. Sasha may already be in a trap or fighting her crazy father, and I’m stuck here because I want to be so damn cautious! Fuck that! I run out of patience very quickly, and close to the Russian border I pick up my speed and follow the directions on my map. Thank god I decided to do my research and check where Nikolai’s mansion was even before the wedding.
Okay, now I only have to figure out how to get there without attracting unnecessary attention from the Russians—but as soon as I think about it, I realize that it’s already too late. With a loud growl, two cars turn onto the street behind me, flashing their lights and honking at me. Shit. I haven’t even done anything yet!
Should I stop? I glance at the rearview mirror. They seem pretty aggressive, and if I try to escape them now…well, I may just as well blare about my presence to the rest of the Bratva. I think it’s better to play it cool for now, so I pull to the side of the street and stop. With the active truce between our families, they can’t harm me, can they?
“Get the fuck out of here!”
“What did a pig like you forget in our neighborhood?”
The men start yelling as soon as their car stops next to mine, and I have to breathe in before going out. No one dares speak like that to Louis Messina, but I can’t get myself in trouble. I have to think about Sasha first, so I even show them my empty hands as I get out, blinded as I am by the lights of their cars.
“Who are you?” one of them finally speaks up without cursing and with a steadier voice—a higher-ranked member of the Pushkov family, I assume.
“I’m Sasha’s husband,” I say, carefully choosing my words. It’s not a good place to speak about my last name, but judging by their whistles and chuckles, I guess they recognize me anyway.
“One of the Messina guys, huh?”
“You must be either too brave or too stupid to drive like that in our territory.”
I frown. What are they talking about? Have they forgotten about the truce?
“I’ve signed a deal with Nikolai. I have a free pass through your territories,” I remind them, squinting to see their faces behind the car lights. I don’t recognize their voices, and it would be nice to know who the hell I’m talking to.
“A free pass?”
The calmer man laughs, and everyone else immediately joins. Their laughter is mocking and certainly unfriendly, and I feel a rush of adrenaline at the sound of it. Something’s not right. I tense up, trying to calculate the fastest way to get out of here, when the man speaks again.
“There’s no truce, you naive dumbass.” He chuckles. “We only needed a pretense to get closer to you before we take over Chicago once and for all.”
What? I blink and try to look at them better to figure out if it’s some kind of bluff. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, it’s—
Damn it, he just confessed that the Russians plan to betray us! It sends a wave of heat through my body, and I move my arms—but the men raise their arms at once, and I don’t have to see them properly to know that they’re aiming their guns at me.
What, is that it? I chuckle and shake my head. “So now you’re gonna kill me, huh?”
I hear excited whispers and chuckles running through the men surrounding me, but the calm man shushes them before turning to me.
“We don’t want to upset little Sasha and destroy Nikolai’s plans for you. So, with all the generosity of my heart, I give you thirty seconds to get the hell out of here. If you’re still inside our borders by the time we catch you, count yourself as dead, Louis Messina.”
Well, it’s better than nothing, so I nod at him. “Thanks.”
But that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to obey the orders of some fucking Russian freaks.
I rush to get into the car and open the driver’s window, pretending to be nervous and scared out of my mind. I hear them laugh when I drop the key and lean down to get it from under my seat. What they don’t know, though, is that I have a gun hidden there specifically for a situation like this.
As soon as I sit up, I turn on the ignition, push the accelerator, and open fire through the window. They start yelling and cursing at me, firing back, but I weave my car onto the sidewalk, honking at the passersby, and take the next turn to speed into an unfamiliar street. Next time, these bastards will know not to laugh at the Messinas.
