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Added to all that, the pakhan of the New York Syndicate, Andrei Volkov, had been a guest at the wedding. He’d been pleasant enough, but his veiled threats hinted the other shoe hadn’t yet dropped for my break in protocol. It had been a downright shock to see him right before the ceremony. Leave it to the Peltos to know a Bratva boss well enough to invite him to a destination wedding. Of course, they didn’t know himthatwell; they only knew the businessman, not the criminal hiding in plain sight.
Since that meeting, I knew Volkov was going to cause trouble for me. My uncle had reamed me for trespassing, and like a damn dog that had been kicked, I took it. Which made his son and my cousin, Nikolai, mock me mercilessly. Only my sweet sister seemed to understand. She’d cuffed my cousin on the ear, not scared to strike the prince of the LA Bratva. But then she didn’t have to work with him every day like I did.
As if to remind me of that, Nikolai, sitting in the driver’s seat beside me, blew out a long breath. “No movement from the Metaks.”
I grunted in agreement. It sure didn’t seem like they’d stolen our goods. The first time could have been dumb luck, but this second hit? It was madness. Our network was too tight; they would have needed a snitch. But even so, it was all too clean, which wasn’t their style. That meant someone might be pitting us against the Serbian gang. To what end, it was hard to say. These were my own private hunches, and while my hotheaded cousin and bloodthirsty uncle were busy chasing leads, I was considering my own angle. After all, I had nothing left to do now but work.
“By the saints, man! You’re so fucking mopey,” Nikolai said, turning in his seat to face me.
I didn’t meet his gaze. “Touch me, and you’ll regret it.”
“Ha ha, like I haven’t heard that before.” But wisely, my cousin kept his hands to himself.
Growing up, we’d played at being gangsters. Our aspirations for fame and riches were now well and truly actualized, but unlike my cousin, I saw the emptiness of the throne.
“Movement. In the upper left room,” I clipped out, jerking my chin.
“It’s just a guard getting lucky. Second time the fucker’s been at it today.” Nikolai yawned.
I hated to admit he was right, but I watched through the binoculars as the naked, flabby-ass cheeks of the thug pumped into his mistress.
“Tell me if anything good happens,” Nikolai murmured, leaning back in his seat and pulling his cap over his eyes.
Before I could respond, my phone rang. Sophia. “Privet, zaika,” I said warmly.
“Hi to you too, goat.” She was distracted. She’d barely tacked on the insult.
“What’s up?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
“I sent the specs, but you already know that because you opened the email.” Sophia was dancing around whatever it was.
“Zaika,” I warned.
“Pakhan is here. It’s—it’s bad,” she whispered into the phone. “I have to go, but you should hurry home.”
“What happened?” I demanded. But the phone disconnected before she answered.
I slapped my lazy cousin. “Get up. Change of plans.”
Nikolai shot me a dirty look from under his cap that made him look constipated. “We’re supposed to stay here until the booker comes or one of the Metak lads picks him up,” he stated.
I shook my head. “You’re taking me to my house.”
“Why?”
“Your father’s there.”
“Oh.” That made my cousin start the vehicle and pull away from the carport of the abandoned house we’d painstakingly camouflaged in the middle of the night.
~*~
Sophia rolled her eyesas I opened the freezer door. “You weren’t supposed to come home from a stake-out.”
“Then why’d you call?” I snapped, letting the icy blast waft over me. She winced, and I pinched my eyes. “I’m sorry, zaika. You didn’t know where I was.”
“Actually, I did. Technically. But I didn’t know where you were was a stake-out. The booker you’re looking for is holed up in a hotel in Sun Valley.”
I jerked back. “Does Uncle know?”
