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The idea of war makes my gut tighten. Part of me had hoped I’d be able to schmooze my way into a takeover of the city, to steal St. Petersburg from underneath the noses of the Chechens with a wink and a smile. I should’ve known such a tall order would be too much, even for the Closer.
I nod, even though they can’t see me. “Agreed. And Damien? I hope it doesn’t come to this, but there’s a damn good chance we’re going to need firepower.”
Damien answers, “Consider it done. Just tell me when and where.”
My brothers, bound not just by blood but by years of trust and loyalty, are my anchor. We’ve faced troubles before, but this? This is something else. This is about love and hate, interwoven in a dangerous dance.
By the time the call ends, the energy in me surges anew. The Chechen mob might have made the first move, but the Antonov-Nicolaevich Bratva? We were about to make the most impactful one.
The apartment feels quiet, almost eerily so. The shadows playing off the walls and the dim light of my laptop are the only things keeping me company. With a glass of neat whiskey in hand, I recline in my leather chair, my thoughts racing.
To get to the bottom of this mess, to save Valentina, and possibly myself, I need answers. And what better way to get them than to tap into my vast network? I've always been a charmer, always known just the right buttons to push. It's served me well, both in love and business.
Opening an encrypted messaging application, I message Detective Larin, one of my more receptive contacts in the St. Petersburg police. Larin owes me big after I got his brother out of a particularly nasty jam a couple of years back.
Larin, I need a deep dive into Iosef Tolensky's disappearance. Anything you have, any whispers, rumors, off-the-record confessions.
It's a risk reaching out. The blue dots indicating Larin is typing back seem to take forever.
At this hour? What’s in it for me?
I smirk. Always the opportunist, Larin.
Isn’t your brother's freedom enough? If you deliver, I’ll owe you one.
Deal. But I need time. This isn't an easy one.
Time's what we might not have. Hurry.
I exit the chat, taking another sip of my drink. Larin isn't my only angle. I've got people scattered across St. Petersburg's shadowy underbelly, individuals who thrive on the rumors and whispers of the night. Some are contacts I’ve made since moving, others are from my time visiting over the years, planting seeds for my future takeover of this town.
Now, it’s time for those seeds to sprout and blossom.
Dialing another encrypted line, I reach out to Anna, a high-profile madam with connections in every corner of the city. She's another who owes me, after I helped her out of a tricky situation with a rival gang.
"Roman," her sultry voice purrs from the other end. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
"Anna," I greet, ever the charmer, even in the face of adversity. "I need your ears. I’m trying to track down a man named Iosef Tolensky? This would’ve been a few years back. "
She hums thoughtfully. "Sounds vaguely familiar.” She gasps in realization. “Yes, I remember that name. He was linked with the Chechen mafia but vanished a few years ago without a trace. I can dig deeper for you."
I thank her and disconnect the call. Each lead is a possible thread to the truth, and I intend to pull on them all.
Finishing my drink, I set the glass aside, staring at the muted reflections on its surface. The pieces are beginning to fall into place, but there's still so much to do. I’m racing against time, but I've always thrived under pressure.
There's a restlessness in my chest, a gnawing, relentless unease. Every muscle twitches with tension. I'm adept at handling challenging situations, but this isn't about business. This is about Valentina, the fiery, sharp-tongued beauty who's gotten under my skin in a way few ever have.
My thoughts stray to Ilya, the innocent in this chaotic mess. Valentina would burn the world for him. What would Vladimir do to get to me, to break his sister, to control her? The notion makes my blood boil. I need to see for myself that the kid's safe.
Navigating St. Petersburg's labyrinthine streets, I find myself at Valentina’s apartment. Taking a deep breath to control the tension gnawing at my insides, I knock sharply.
A few moments later, the door opens to reveal a young woman with soft brown eyes, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She's a picture of youth, innocence almost, pretty in that girl-next-door kind of way. The gentle curve of her lips and the slight apprehensiveness in her eyes make me think she knows who I am.
"Can I help you?" she asks tentatively.
"Is Valentina here?" I try to keep the urgency out of my voice but fail miserably.
She shakes her head slowly, her eyes clouding with worry. "No. I’m Lena," she introduces herself. "I look after Ilya when Valentina's out. But… she should have been back hours ago." Lana speaks the words more as if she’s letting her worries vent, rather than expressing them to me. She nibbles on her lower lip, a nervous habit, perhaps.
