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Were they telling me the truth? Are we actually gonna start the war with Russians again? No, it’s not the time to think about it. My wife is still somewhere here, looking for a way to get caught by her father, and she should be my first priority right now.
I force my mind to focus on the chase; thanks to the element of surprise, I’m ahead of the Russians, and I have to use it. It won’t take long till others join them, and if I keep driving around like this they’ll catch me in no time. No, I need something else.Think, Louis, think.
As I drive through a secluded street, listening to the sirens and honks of the Bratva in the distance, my eyes catch the cars lined on both sides of the road, and my brain lights up with an idea. But damn it. I hate sneaking away and avoiding open confrontations, but right now a fight may cost me and Sasha our lives, and I can’t risk that.
I have to make sure she’s safe first, so I pull the car close to the sidewalk and, with a quick glance to the side, run down the street until I find a small, old car. The Russians would never expect me to steal it, and that’s exactly why I decide to take it. I have to be one step ahead of them—and then, maybe I’ll be able to get out of here alive.
I learned the art of stealing cars when I was a teenager, and even though my knowledge has become rusty over the years, it still works well enough. The car does let out a loud beep at some point, but I quickly cut it off and climb into the car. Now, let’s try to turn it on.
While I’m dealing with the ignition, I see the lights of a car on the other end of the street and freeze in my place—but it’s just one of the locals driving back home after work. The car passes me a few seconds later, and I breathe out and focus on my new car instead.Come on, I know you can save me, I know you can work.
I bite my lip, connecting the wires, and oh miracle, the engine vibrates and turns on in response. Perfect! Now I have to get out of here as soon as possible. For now, the Bratva is focused on searching for my car, but as soon as they find out that I’ve left it behind, they’ll figure out what happened—and then they’ll use all their forces to find me.
I’m pretty much breaking the truce by being here, but haven’t they done it first by not allowing me to enter? Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. I’ll talk to Riccardo about it later—right now, I have to follow the directions on my map and find Nikolai’s mansion before Sasha does something stupid.
Chapter 12 - Sasha
The house I used to call my home is right in front of me, eerie and quiet in the darkness of the evening. The rain has started drizzling again, making the lights on the second floor blurry, but I don’t even notice it tapping on my cheeks. The only thing I can think about right now is the deep hole in the middle of my chest and the determination burning in my hands.
I have to face Father. I want to look him in the eyes and hear the truth from his own lips. But to do that, I have to sneak past the servants and security guards. Otherwise, Father will just order his men to catch me and throw me into the basement, and I won’t even have a chance to demand answers.
Thankfully, I still have a keycard that gives me open access to the house, so it shouldn’t be a big problem to get inside. I just have to be careful and focused on my task, and with the adrenaline burning in my muscles, I know I can do it.
I quickly glance around, making sure that the street is clear—Father likes his privacy, so our closest neighbors are almost a mile away—and press the keycard to the gates. They open with a flash of green light, and I pick up a rock on the ground and put it at the base of the gates to prevent them from locking. Who knows if I’ll have to run for my life out of this goddamn place.
Keeping myself in the dark cover of the trees and bushes scattered on the property, I run to the back door where Father’s servants usually get deliveries. It’s a less obvious place to enter, and the guards rarely hang around it. I bite my lip as I stop behind a maple tree and check my surroundings. It looks clear.
I look at the windows to make sure there’s nobody watching before running to the back door. But when I almost reach it, I see a line of light appear on the doorstep, and the doorknob moves. Shit! I take one glance around and jump into the wet bushes of hydrangea growing under the walls a moment before the door opens.
“I wonder if the old man himself would want to drag his ass outside in such weather,” I hear one of the guards grumble while his companion snorts and shakes his head.
“Why do they think he’s gonna come here anyway?”
But I don’t listen to the rest of their conversation and quietly run toward the door behind their backs to sneak inside. The rain and their own complaints cover the sound of my footsteps, and by the time the door closes I’m already in the small hallway leading to the kitchen. From here, I already know how to get to Father’s rooms.
I press myself into the wall and crawl toward the kitchen door before quickly peeking inside. Halina, the cook, is already working on the dinner, and the room smells of pork and spices. The range hood is working to the fullest, the water is boiling on the stove, and the cook is murmuring the recipe in Russian, creating a perfect cover for any noise I could make.
Okay, it won’t be a problem to get past Halina, but I have to make sure that the hallway behind her is also clear. It would be stupid to creep through the kitchen only to end up in the hands of the guards.
So I peek from behind the corner and see two men going through the main entrance and toward the stairs. I recognize one of them as a higher-ranked recruit who never shows up in our house without a reason. I frown, watching a guard lead him to the second floor. Damn, it’s literally the worst time to have guests—but I can’t turn back now.
Perhaps, I’ll have to hide in my or Misha’s old room for some time before the guy leaves. Or, if worse comes to worst, I’ll have to get rid of him. I doubt the evening will pass by without someone being injured, so I take out my dagger and keep it close to my arm. The most important thing is to make sure I’m not the one to get shot in the end.
After the men leave the hallway, I wait for a few more seconds, check whether anyone else is coming, look at Halina who is still focused on rubbing the pork with spices, and dart forward, keeping my head low. She doesn’t even bat an eye, and I crouch by the counter that separates me from Halina and check the entrance and hallway again. Clear.
I close my eyes for a moment, take a deep breath, and run to the stairs with my dagger secured in my grip. I have to do it, I have to do it, I have to get out of here alive. With my heart pounding in my ears, I move as quietly as possible, jumping over a few stairs at once and keeping my eyes on the second floor. Damn, why didn't I bring my gun with me? But no, I have to keep quiet. Even a single gunshot would alert the whole house.
After what feels like an eternity, I get to the second floor, press my back to the wall, and look around. There are muffled voices coming from Father’s part of the house, and it sounds like something big happened today. Damn, they don't know that I'm here already, do they? But the thought makes my chest tighten. Whatever it is, I have to find a good place to hide before—
"I haven't seen him so pissed since Sasha lied about the Mexicans."
Shit. I frantically look around, listening to the footsteps inevitably drawing closer. There's a big plant on the other side of the hallway, and I rush toward it in a hopeless attempt to hide.
"Well, it's always the Mexicans or the Italians who ruin everything."
"Not for long, though." And the guards laugh, appearing from behind the corner.
I hold my breath and grip my dagger tightly, watching their every movement. It will be a miracle if they don't notice me, but I want to believe in it till the last moment.
