Sin of Silence (Sinner's Empire Book 1)

by Nikita Slater

  The blood was pumping through Shaun’s veins as she hurtled down the hallway, past the staff room, toward where she thought the back door might be. She rounded a corner, her arms outstretched to reach for the door when she caught sight of Leeza.

  Leeza was standing in the middle of the hallway, her legs spread, and her arms stretched in front of her, a gun in her right hand while her left hand was holding it steady. Shaun stopped so abruptly that she ended up tripping over her own feet, slamming into a wall and collapsing to the floor on her hands and knees.

  She looked up and found herself once again facing down the barrel of a gun. The fight drained out of her and she pushed herself back onto her ass, leaned against the wall and dropped her face into her hands. She gave into the urge to cry, allowing the tears to fall freely.

  She figured she was entitled to a good cry.

  Shaun had seen death rushing at her through the barrel of a gun too many times that week. She was over it. She was more than over it. If one more person pointed a gun at her, she was going to call their bluff.

  Shaun felt the air move around her and glanced up to see Leeza crouched in front of her, her gun nowhere in sight. Shaun assumed she must've tucked it back into her purse or a holster somewhere on her body. Two of the guards were standing in the hallway, looking grim. One of them was on the phone with who she assumed must be Jozef.

  "I'm in trouble,” Shaun whispered, swiping at the tears on her cheeks.

  Leeza reached out and squeezed her knee. "Yeah, you are. But you're not dead and that’s something."

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Saty is here,” Krystoff said, flicking the ash from his cigar into an ashtray. Technically the club was non-smoking, but the rules didn’t apply to the club owners. “I truly despise that little weasel.”

  Jozef followed Krystoff’s line of sight, his own gaze settling on a short, stocky man who was speaking to a muscular bouncer. Saty looked around, caught sight of Jozef, Krystoff, and Havel in the VIP section and began making his way to the back of the club.

  Jozef stiffened as the man approached.

  “Krystoff, my friend.” Saty greeted the men heartily. “Good to see you alive and well.”

  There was a pregnant pause before Krystoff drawled, “Is there a reason you should not be seeing me alive and well?”

  Saty looked uncomfortable and glanced around, likely taking stock of Krystoff’s manpower if it came down to a fight. Though there were few people on the floor of the club, as it was only early afternoon, Krystoff had men at every entrance. His usual precaution, which is why it was so concerning that Vasiliy had managed to get to him. Saty’s eyes lingered on Jozef, clearly assessing the younger Koba as the real threat.

  “No, no, I just mean you look to be in good health.”

  “Again,” Krystoff drawled coldly, deliberately picking up his whiskey with his mutilated hand, and taking a sip before continuing, “Is there a reason I should not be in good health?”

  “Uh… heard a rumour… clearly not true.” Saty glanced over his shoulder once more as if he regretted approaching the Koba patriarch. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to say hello to a good friend.”

  “Jozef will be in touch about payment for your last shipment,” Krystoff drawled.

  Saty’s eyes landed on Jozef and he visibly shuddered. He owed the Kobas a significant amount of money. He liked to pretend he was playing the mafia game, but he was as ineffectual as he was weak. The Kobas were happy to take his money, but otherwise wanted nothing to do with him. Saty saw them as a way into higher society. He was wrong.

  Jozef merely sat, watching the comings and goings of the club with a bored expression. It was a facade. Jozef was always alert when it came to business, especially in the club, which was a cauldron of people moving and mixing. The club was where they did most of their business. It was public, it belonged to the Koba family and it was considered neutral territory for all the local crime families, of which the Kobas were royalty.

  Meeting in the club made their associates feel safe, though it was a false sense of security. Jozef could cut off a man’s head in the middle of the club on a Friday night without repercussions. They owned everything and everyone in the club as well as a good portion of the Prague police force.

  Jozef’s job consisted of many parts. He was Krystoff’s second-in-command and the Koba enforcer. He led a group of men who made sure all missions went smoothly, payments were collected, and no one overreached in their territory. He had to be alert and ready for anything. Attempts on both Krystoff's and his lives were not unheard of. Jozef had lost his voice in one such attack that killed his parents when he was a boy. The killer hadn’t managed to finish him before Jozef was able to kill the man with the knife he’d left sticking out of Jozef’s throat. Or so he’d been told; Jozef had no memory of the incident.

  It was that spunk he’d shown as a child that’d elevated him in the eyes of Krystoff Koba, eldest brother of the Koba siblings. Krystoff had adopted him and raised him as his own son. Jozef had spent his life making sure Krystoff would never have a moment’s regret. He was vicious and bloodthirsty so his uncle could be congenial and respectful with his allies. Jozef was the guard dog for the family; the vztekl´y pes.

  “It is good that you are seen,” Havel announced to Krystoff once Saty had retreated from their table. Havel had rejoined the family after making sure the fallout from Krystoff’s kidnapping was minimized.

  Krystoff grunted. “My hand fucking hurts.”

  Havel smirked. “Get the pretty doctor to look at it again. She looks like she has a soft touch.”

  Jozef let out a growl and narrowed his eyes at his second-in-command. His stiff posture indicated he would like nothing more than to tear Havel’s heart out, despite their many years of friendship. Havel’s expression immediately shifted to contrition and he uttered a quick apology.

  Jozef ignored him, picked up his glass of ice water and drained it.

  Krystoff’s sharp gaze was on his nephew. “Don’t get attached, son.”

  Jozef lifted cold eyes to his uncle and set his glass down before signing, are you threatening my woman, uncle?

  Krystoff looked suddenly weary. “You know as well as I do that some people aren’t meant for this life. She’s a doctor, a decent person, not one to condone our lifestyle. If I’m any judge of character, I can tell you right now, she won’t settle into this life.”

  I’m keeping her, Jozef insisted.

  Krystoff bobbed his head in a nod. “By all means, son. Keep the woman, enjoy her. God knows you’ve earned a little fun. But don’t get attached. She may have to be put down eventually.”

  Jozef let out a ferocious growl and glared at his uncle, not something he’d done before. He showed Krystoff respect on all occasions, especially in front of witnesses. It was part of the reason the Koba family was able to operate as effectively as they did in Prague. Krystoff was the patriarch, the face and personality of the business. Jozef was in charge of operations. The shadowy presence who ensured Krystoff’s will in all things. Jozef’s men supported the two, and the family gave them a place to go home to.

  You will not harm Shaun under any circumstance, Jozef hands flew, his signing faster than normal, giving away his anger. You agreed to the marriage.

  Rather than take offence at Jozef’s attitude, Krystoff sipped his drink thoughtfully, taking a few moments before he answered. “This woman has come to mean something to you already. I wasn’t sure marriage would be the best way to go, but if you truly want to make her part of the family, then we will welcome her.” Krystoff’s dark gaze searched Jozef’s granite face. “You have my word that she will not be harmed. She’s yours, no interference.”

  Jozef continued to stare, but his posture gradually eased.

  “You’ll have to keep her contained. Find a way to keep your woman without crushing her spirit.”

  Jozef ignored the comment, nodding his head toward the front of the club where three men piled in, looking
around nervously. Krystoff straightened in his seat, his expression growing hard. Jozef and Havel followed suit.

  Jozef recognized the lead man. They belonged to Vasiliy. Jozef lifted an eyebrow in surprise as the men approached the table. It took balls to not only walk into the enemy’s territory, but to walk right up to him as if embarking on a friendly chat session. They were seriously underestimating Jozef if they thought a public venue would keep them alive. Jozef stood as they approached, crossing his arms and making his biceps bulge. Havel did the same and they took position on either side of Krystoff.

  The leader of the trio urged them forward, his cool gaze on Krystoff, who set his injured hand on the table. It was a calculated move. The loss of the finger could be seen as a weakness. The enemy had managed to grab him and make him suffer, but he’d been rescued and was now resuming his place. By showing his hand, he was saying that his injury was insignificant, and he hadn’t forgotten what they’d done to him.

  “I recognize you,” Krystoff said bluntly, his gaze landing on the leader. “You were running point when I was grabbed. You held me while another cut my finger off.”

  The man dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I hope you know I was only following orders. It was nothing personal.”

  Krystoff stared at the man, his gaze glacial. “Life is personal, and you took several days of mine.” He let that sink in before continuing, “What are you doing here?”

  The man shuffled his feet and glanced sideways at Jozef, who was the most intimidating of the Koba syndicate. Everyone had heard of the Koba guard dog. “Mr. Stanovich is deeply regretful over your recent misunderstanding. He would like to make amends by opening discussions with you regarding a truce and perhaps some trade options.”

  Krystoff laughed, his voice a deep boom throughout the club. Anyone who knew him, knew they should retreat rapidly from that sound. It usually preceded violence. Krystoff moved his gaze to Jozef and nodded. Jozef strode past the three men, who watched him warily as he dragged a velvet curtain around the VIP area they were sitting in, closing them off from view of the club. It was the Koba family private club with an extremely limited and vetted guest list. Anyone who entered knew the price if they repeated anything that went down at the club. Still, they didn’t need to be direct witnesses to what was about to happen.

  “So… Vasiliy wants to do business with me after attempting to use me as leverage,” Krystoff mused. “He thinks to force my hand by mutilating my hand.” His cold gaze rose to the men lined up in front of him. “He has underestimated me.”

  The leader looked decidedly nervous and glanced repeatedly at the closed velvet curtain and Jozef who now stood behind them, his arms loose at his sides. While the men talked, Jozef took his leather gloves from his jacket pocket and tugged them on.

  “H-he wants to express his condolences and hopes that you might consider doing business with him in the future. Perhaps we can offer reparations for your suffering,” the man spoke quickly, his hand straying to his jacket. His gun would have been checked in by club security, but Jozef knew men like this probably carried hidden weapons. His razor-sharp gaze followed their every movement.

  “Business is certainly out of the question,” Krystoff said coldly. “I do not do business with men who breach my trust. But reparations… yes, we can put those on the table.”

  The guy swallowed nervously and tried to shuffle back but ran into Jozef who stood behind him, unmoving. Jozef’s gaze met his uncle’s, but Krystoff gave a slight shake to his head.

  “You can give me one thing,” Krystoff drawled.

  “Anything.” Vasiliy’s man agreed desperately, seizing on the opportunity to curry favour with the crime boss.

  “Tell me who the Phantom is.”

  Jozef frowned, remembering his uncle saying the word after he was rescued. He hadn’t given it another thought, but it clearly weighed on Krystoff’s mind.

  “He’s no one,” the guy said quickly. “One of Vasiliy’s contacts.”

  Krystoff tapped the fingers of his good hand against the table. “One of you idiots mentioned he was responsible for my abduction, which makes sense, since Vasiliy didn’t seem to know what to do with me. I’m thinking my kidnapping was a botched a job for a third party, yeah?”

  The guy looked distinctly green as he withstood Krystoff’s glare. Jozef and Havel glanced at each other. Who was the Phantom? If they were a player in the European or Russian Underworlds, shouldn’t one of them have heard of him?

  “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes darted around the room as he sweated profusely. “Vasiliy orchestrated the kidnapping so he could negotiate a relationship with your organization, that’s all.”

  “You see,” Krystoff drawled. “This makes no sense to me. In what scenario would any sane person think that kidnapping and torturing a rival is the key to forging an alliance?” When the man didn’t answer, Krystoff continued, “The answer is, no one would think that. Which leads me to another conclusion. Either Vasiliy wanted me for some other unknown reason, or he was working under another’s orders. Someone who doesn’t have the resources to take me into custody.”

  Krystoff leaned against the table, giving the sweating man a level look. “You have one chance to tell me who the Phantom is. Give me a name and you will walk out of this club.”

  The guy swallowed, a bead of sweat trailing down his hairline. “There is no name. He goes by the name Phantom, but we’ve never – ”

  Krystoff nodded at Jozef who moved so fast, none of the three men had time to react. Jozef took the leader by the neck, rammed his elbow into the man’s spine and slammed his face into the table. His nose shattered with a sickening crunch and he screamed in pain, struggling against Jozef’s hold.

  When it looked like the other two men were attempting to reach ankle holsters, Jozef pulled his own gun and placed it against the back of the man’s head. Krystoff moved slowly, unfolding his big body until he rose to his full height. He bent over the table and looked into the eyes of the man Jozef was holding.

  “I will take my reparations another way and send a message to your boss at the same time.”

  The man spat out a stream of blood and saliva onto the table. “What do you want? He’ll pay it. He’ll pay anything!”

  Krystoff let out another bone chilling laugh. “Look around you, what do I want with more money?”

  “Then what?” he asked desperately.

  “Let’s start with your head.” Krystoff nodded to Jozef who pulled the trigger.

  Horrified at seeing their comrade’s skull blown out on a table, the other two men scrambled toward the curtain. Havel cut them off, a gun in each hand pointed at the two men, his expression deadly.

  Jozef allowed the body to slide off the table and thump to the floor. He lifted glittering blue eyes to his uncle.

  “Send my message.” Krystoff picked up his drink and drained it, as though he didn’t have a single care. He dropped the empty glass on the table next to a pool of blood slowly spreading across the varnished surface. “Find out if you can get more information on this Phantom.”

  Krystoff straightened his suit jacket and excused himself from the VIP area so Jozef could do his job. Krystoff never stayed for the bloody part. He certainly knew how to use a weapon and he’d spent his fair share of time terrorizing his way to the top of Czechia’s crime scene, but he’d moved past those days and preferred to stay away from the blood and gore.

  Havel held the two men down while Jozef took their fingers. He didn’t stop at two. He figured the message would be clearer the more fingers he took.

  Their screams echoed through the club as the music pumped louder through the speakers and a woman laughed at something her partner whispered to her. As Jozef was instructing a waitress to grab a takeout box for the severed fingers his phone rang. He answered, hitting the tone to tell the person on the other side he was listening.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dasha met Shaun, Leeza and Saskia in
the mansion foyer. She was wearing a pink silk bathrobe over matching pajamas, as though she’d prepared for a lazy day at home. The four-inch heels and full makeup were completely incongruent with her outfit. Shaun watched in bemusement as the older woman rushed toward her and took her by the arm, pulling her inside.

  “Girls,” Dasha said over her shoulder to her daughters. “Make sure her bags are brought in and taken to Jozef’s suite.”

  Without waiting for a response, Dasha rushed Shaun through the mansion. Shaun was impressed with how fast the older woman could walk, considering her choice of footwear. Shaun was still barefoot from when she’d kicked off her shoes in the dressing room before attempting to run through the shop. The two women walked at such a dizzying pace through the first floor of the mansion, Shaun had no idea where they were going until they arrived at Jozef’s suite.

  Dasha pulled a set of keys from her pocket, unlocked the door and shoved it open, pushing Shaun inside. She followed and held the door as several servants followed with Shaun’s bags. Shaun was stunned by how fast everyone was moving. Dasha pointed toward the bedroom and the two women waited silently while the servants piled everything onto and next to the couch.

  “Do you need anything else, ma’am?” a butler asked Dasha.

  She shook her head. “That’s all for now, but please stay close. Alert us when Jozef is in the house.”

  Shaun’s heart picked up speed in anticipation and terror at hearing Jozef’s name. What was he going to do once he found out about Shaun’s escape attempt?

  As though reading her mind, Dasha said in a serious voice, “He knows and he’s on his way.”

  The bodyguard had likely called Jozef the second she was safely tucked in the car. Shaun figured Leeza had called to alert her mother, which is how she’d known to meet them at the door so quickly. Dasha was rifling through Shaun’s packages, tossing the occasional item on the bed.

  “Is he going to be angry?” Shaun asked tentatively. For all she knew, Dasha was angry too. After seeing Leeza with a gun, Shaun was starting to realize that the women of this family were just as deadly as the men.