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34
Sophia
We waited until nightfall.
It had started snowing again by the time we arrived at our location, an upscale neighborhood on the outskirts of Anchorage—although calling it aneighborhoodwas a stretch because there were ten wooded acres between each home. Basically, this was where the richest of the rich lived.
I could see my father choosing this spot. It had access to the ports, which was vital for anyone dealing in dirty commodities, and also ideal for those who needed quick exits, especially to Russia. Also, the ocean is a great place to dump bodies.
The adrenaline rush from the “interrogation” Justin had given Ron had dissolved hours earlier, leaving him in a world of pain. Though he remained silent and compliant, driven by the gun Justin kept pressed to his temple.
“Stop and kill the lights,” Justin said.
I braked at the end of a long, winding driveway lined with ornate lampposts. Snow flurries drifted from the darkness overhead.
“This is it?” Justin tapped the barrel of the gun against Ron’s head.
“Yes. This is one of Kusma’s homes. He purchased it when he learned his daughter was in the area,” Ron mumbled, squinting through his one good eye.
A shiver rippled over my skin. “What now?” I said over my shoulder.
“We go say hi.” Justin cocked a brow, surveying the landscape ahead.
“Smartass.”
He winked.
“Okay.” I inhaled, lifting my chin. “Here we go.”
“Keep the lights off, okay?”
“You got it. Trust me, I’m in no hurry to announce our arrival.”
Slowly, I drove up the driveway as anticipation swirled in the air around us. I could practically feel the adrenaline pouring off Justin. Ron was even sitting up fully now, his head on a swivel.
I understood this reaction. I felt the same way when approaching my father.
At the end of the drive, a sprawling futuristic-looking mansion sat atop a bluff that overlooked a massive black lake. Gray concrete walls framed sweeping windows and countless terraces over multiple levels. Everything was sharp ninety-degree angles, like a bunch of boxes stacked on and around each other. The home was cold and uninviting, just like my father.
If I had to guess, he had a fancy boat somewhere below, stocked with everything he needed to run at a moment’s notice.
Aside from security lights, the home was mostly dark, save for a distant glow coming from somewhere in the back.
The moment I slid the SUV into park, two men stepped out from the shadows, guns drawn.
“Justin. We’ve got company.”
“Guards,” Ron said unhelpfully.
“How many are there?”
“Three,” Ron said. “At all times.”
“Stay here.” Justin handed me his pistol. “If Ron makes one move, shoot him in the face.”
The guards were less than twenty feet away, their urgency increasing with each step. Dressed in all black, they were tall and thick and scary as hell.
I nodded, my heart pounding. “Hurry.”
