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Chapter 33 – Constantine
Living with my bridewas a constant strain on my resolve. The distance my work put between us revealed that with startling clarity, because while she might not be haunting the halls of my LA condo, her memory did. Remembering the smell of her perfume had my dick hardening instantly, and the phone call had been a terrible torture. The sound of her voice had sent little chills of desire skating down my spine. What was most frustrating was that I was unable to reach out to touch her.
My work kept me away from her, and for the first time in a long time, I hated what I did. The kill had been decisive and clean, but just as I was preparing to leave town, I received a message to meet someone in person. It wasn’t something I would normally oblige, but a small hint in the encrypted message had fear gnawing my insides.
The contact was a ruthless bastard, a powerful soldier in the LA Bratva, and a nephew to the district’s head. As far as I knew, he had no gains to seize power, but if he was contacting a world-renowned assassin like me, he wanted someone taken care of. The fact that he was coming to me for business meant it was something that couldn’t be handled openly.
Curiosity drove me to meet with him. And Viktor “Ace” Markovich didn’t disappoint.
Leaning against a concrete pilon and fully hidden in the dark, I watched him stride along the wharf, moving in and out of the pools of light. He wasn’t trying to hide his approach. The tactic suited him. He was a brutal force; his history spoke of the powerful mark he’d made in the underworld.
Thick muscles corded his body and ink decorated his skin. The tight, black tee shirt and designer jeans he wore didn’t hide the weapons he carried. But I wasn’t offended. If I’d wanted him dead, he wouldn’t draw another breath. Viktor strode right to the meeting spot, directly under a fluorescent spotlight, and glared into the dark. He didn’t see me; I was a ghost in the underworld.
He had a pissed off look on his face as he turned around, searching for me. “Quit fucking around. Where are you?” he called out.
“That’s no way to speak to someone you want to hire,” I said in a low voice.
The brute spun around, peering into the dark. “I arranged for an audience with the most famous assassin. Come out and face me.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. My interviews are done via encrypted servers. The fact that you’re meeting me at all is an honor. Take the offer as it stands or I leave,” I menaced. The truth was, I hated the imperious attitude of most mobsters, this bastard especially. Their shit stank the same as anyone else’s.
“How can I know that you’re sincere?” Viktor rumbled, saying all the wrong things to cover his hubris.
“You can’t. But I’m here now, so tell me what this is about.” Whatever sixth sense had been flagged in the email was not present in the vibe I was getting from him now. In fact, my gut was telling me this was a stupid idea to meet in person, and I should just get the hell out of here.
Viktor let out a long breath through his nose, nostrils flaring wide. “We have a problem. We need him disposed of.”
“Without causing a scene in the ranks,” I surmised, laughing softly to myself. Typical mob bullshit.
“We want it to look like he died peacefully in his sleep; no sloppiness.” Viktor crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “Things are on tenterhooks with the Serbs, and he’s making it worse. We can’t have them blamed and a war on our hands.”
“The plot thickens,” I murmured, intrigued enough to stay. But really, although I dealt with gangs and mobsters, I was a lone wolf. I swore no allegiance to any criminal organization.
“In turn, we can help you with your little French problem.”
I froze. That instinct had been right.Holy shit!
A slow, feral smile crept over the Russian’s lips. “That’s right. I know who you are, Constantine Drakos. I’ve got a very smart little sister who studied computer science over at MIT.”
Heat flashed through my veins, and my fingers itched for my gun. “How about I bury that secret with you and your sister?”
There was a flash, and it was my only warning. I slid behind the pylon, just as a bullet grazed the side of the pole, sending a find dusting of concrete to the ground.
“No one threatens my family!” Viktor roared, popping off another round. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he menaced, stepping forward.
Couldn’t say I blamed him. If anyone threatened Talia or Iryna—
I froze, realizing how I’d put my wife first.Huh. That’s new.
