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“I-I had no choice. She wanted … to go … with him,” the guard choked.
“You’re lying.”
“She asked… she knew what she was doing,” he gurgled.
I cut his air off for several more seconds before leaving him to cough and splutter on the floor.
I whirled and gestured to my men. “We’re going to pay Konstantin Ivanov a visit.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest as we left Luna and got into a line of cars. There was an urgency in my chest I couldn’t stand. I was worried like never before. Konstantin Ivanov had two women in his hands—my women—and I wouldn’t stop until they were safe.
I’d never been more afraid—or alive—in my life.
* * *
The Ivanov partof town was nothing like where the Songs and Lucianos lived. The old families of great power had built fortified and luxurious homes. Like modern-day kings and queens, they watched over their territories in comfort. The Ivanovs weren’t an old family, and it showed.
We crossed into their territory, and I immediately felt eyes on us as we drove. Here, in Brighton Beach, there was dive bar after dive bar, amusement park rides all closed down at this time of year, and the scent of year-old popcorn. Rain fell on the slicked boardwalk as we passed the carnival attractions lining the shore. It was the raw and gritty face of New York I didn’t see often, and it suited Konstantin and his rabble of violent circus freaks down to the ground.
We drew up outside a dilapidated shopping mall on the sagging pier. A man stood outside, uncaring about the rain, holding a gun out in the open. He was backed by about fifty others. Konstantin wasn’t messing around.
“Just you,” the man said as soon as I got out of the car, flanked by my security.
I’d expected that, but it wasn’t a promising start. A car pulled up behind my security team, and I was surprised to see Rocco Luciano step out into the drizzle. The infamous playboy looked dapper as always, but there was a firm set to his mouth that said today, he meant business.
“Konstantin will see us,” Rocco said arrogantly to the guard.
Rocco was like that—all confidence and charisma. While my life had frozen me in ice, an impenetrable fortress, Rocco had embraced the tragedy of a kingpin's existence. A blazing short shot at glory and the darkness. He was the opposite of me, yet was willing to stand by my side and enter the wolf’s lair.
He slapped me on the shoulder. “Well, shall we go inside?”
“You don’t need to risk yourself like this,” I told him.
He shrugged with that devil may care grace of his. “I have no wife, no children, no duties. I can accompany my brother into certain death once in a while.”
Brother?All the defenses I’d kept in place for so many years crumbled like sandcastles in the face of the fierce personalities who had blazed into my life.
I could only nod as we went inside.
Konstantin had set up his headquarters in a store that seemed to have sold office furniture before it was abandoned. Now, it was all arranged in a huge circle around a long desk and chair. Kon Ivanov lounged in the middle, his heavy-soled boots kicked up on the table. His sheepskin overcoat was still wrapped around him, despite being inside. Wind whistled through the place, making me cold. It was damp and uncomfortable as fuck, and I could see why Kat’s brother was so dangerous. He had little to lose, while I had everything.
“My, my, a visit from my brother-in-law, the great and powerful Song Jae Han. If I’d known you were coming… what’s the phrase? I would have baked a cake?” Konstantin chuckled, turning his eyes over his shoulder. “Well, Kira? Did you bake a cake?”
“Fuck you, Kon, and them too,” a sharp, female voice called.
A woman stood at the bottom of a long flight of stairs. She was dressed in black leather trousers and a dark jumper. She was nearly as blonde as Kat but had a deadly grace my wife didn’t. She looked like someone you wouldn’t trust enough to sleep next to.
“Ask Kat. Maybe she did,” Kon continued, enjoying himself.
He stood, and I saw he was shirtless beneath his sheepskin. His pale, muscled chest was elaborately tattooed. “Though, I’m not sure if she was up to baking.”
“If you’ve hurt her—” I stilled as Rocco cleared his throat. I was losing it, tipping my hand. Next, I’d be begging Konstantin to give Hana and Kat back.
“I don’t think we finished our discussion properly the other night. We don’t have to go this way and start a war. Business would be better if we worked it out. We’re family now, after all,” Rocco said.
A soft, feminine snort sounded from the woman behind Konstantin, the deadly looking one.
“Did you hear that, Kat? This man thinks that family works together.” Konstantin laughed.
