by B. B. Hamel
The girl smiled at him and slinked off. Several other women were draped around them like expensive scarves.
Cassie and Roza stayed behind me and I could feel their discomfort.
“Why don’t we dismiss the entertainment, gentlemen.”
“We said no bodyguards.” Torin came over, grinning at Roza. “We all know this one’s deadly.”
“Save it, Torin,” Roza said. “Last time you tried to flirt with me, you walked away with a black eye. Remember that?”
“God, do I ever. Best orgasm of my life. Please, darling, do it again, will you?”
Roza smiled despite herself. I waved Torin off. “Leave her alone.”
Old Bern clapped his hands. “Girls, get the fuck out. Except for Lenkov’s little stable of pussy, even though we agreed not to bring company. Apparently he gets to do whatever the fuck he wants.”
“Easy, Bern,” Kaspar said, sipping his drink. “The pretty one’s his new wife. What’s her name, Roman?”
She stepped forward and slipped her hand through my arm. “Cassie,” she said, nodding at him.
“I’m Kaspar Feargus Ulbrecht von Baskin the Fourteenth, but everyone calls me Kaspar.”
“Because your full name’s pretentious as hell,” Torin said. “I’m Torin, and the old guy over there is Bernhard Orchard. He’s cranky on account of the arthritis.”
“I swear, you little twerp, come over here and I’ll rip out your fucking eyes.” Old Bern glared death at Torin. Despite the casual way Torin treated the old man, they hated each other—their families had been feuding for generations, with no signs of slowing down. “And it’s nice to meet you Cassie, dear.”
“Let’s sit.” I led Cassie and Roza over to the couches. We took one side and Torin sat at the far end, leaving a bit of space between him and Cassie. Kaspar watched, already bored, and Old Bern glared, which was his default expression. “Thank you all for joining me. I only wish the others could’ve come.”
“Except for Darren I assume,” Kaspar said.
“What is it with you two?” Torin asked. “I knew you didn’t get along, but it’s been vicious lately.”
“Sick of all the damn infighting,” Old Bern said. “Years ago, before you all took over your families, we never bothered with all this childish bickering. We made money and ran policy and the world was better off for it.”
“Yes, thank you, Bern. I’ll make sure to get off your lawn.” Kaspar rolled his eyes.
I held up my hands. “I came here to ask for time. I know that things have been difficult—“
“Putting it mildly,” Old Bern interrupted.
I gave him a look. “Darren sent a man to my home. He tried to infiltrate my people. He threatened my staff and my wife with poison gas. How do you think I should react to that?”
Quiet all around. Torin looked stunned—he always was the kindest of the group—and Kaspar only ran a finger around his glass. Old Bern glared hot death at me.
“That’s one hell of an accusation,” Old Bern said.
“I can prove it. We have the interrogation records.” I gestured at Roza.
She handed out small USB sticks to each man. “You’ll find it all there, raw and unedited. Have your labs analyze it.”
“Gladly,” Torin said and winked.
Roza rolled her eyes.
“Is that why you called us together? You want to tattle on Darren?” Kaspar eyed me above his drink. “Doesn’t seem like you, Roman.”
“I know you’re all going to come together and move on me soon enough. I’m not interested in getting Darren in trouble any more than I want to start any issues within our group, but I will defend myself where necessary. Yes, I started a war between the Italians and the Mexicans, but only because Darren forced my hand.”
Not strictly true. Not remotely true. But plausible enough. I hoped Cassie was paying attention.
She sat with her back straight, looking at each man like a queen staring down her help. They ignored her, not because she was a woman—Maeve was an Oligarch and a woman and well-respected, after all—but because she wasn’t one of us. Married to me or not, it didn’t matter.
Only the Oligarchs had a voice.
The rest of the world listened.
“You know our rule,” Old Bern said. “No direct fighting. Squabbling with intermediaries is fine, so long as it doesn’t cause too much chaos.” He leaned forward and jabbed his finger at me. “Starting a god damn mob war is a lot of fucking chaos.”
“Oh, lighten up, Bern,” Torin said. “You raised some hell in your heyday. If I recall, didn’t you kill an entire Latvian gang once for disrespecting your son?”
“They deserved it,” Old Bern grumbled.
“Sparked a lot of revenge killings and tossed south Texas into turmoil for a decade. Are you sure?”
Old Bern grunted and waved an annoyed hand. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, Roman hasn’t said we should shut the fuck up and accept what he’s doing. He only asked for time.”
“Thank you, Torin.” I nodded my head toward him. “I will fix the mess I’ve made, but first I want to get married and make things official with my bride.” I put my palm possessively on Cassie’s leg. She sat up straighter. “Then I want to settle things with Darren as peacefully as I can. After that, I’ll fix my mess and pay whatever penance the group decides I owe.”
“Generous,” Kaspar said, sounding droll. Of everyone in the Oligarchs, he was the most dangerous and erratic. Old Bern was a mad dog on a leash and Torin was a grinning fool with the heart of a killer, but Kaspar was unpredictable, like ocean waves—calm one moment and slamming the sand the next.
“We don’t like this mess with the Ramos and the Liberto, we can all agree on that,” Torin said. “Did you know that Chale Ramos is still alive? Barely clinging on, but directing the war from his hospital room.”
That pleased me for some reason. I liked Chale. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“You don’t know everything. That’s a first.” Kaspar grinned at me.
“Enough of this.” Old Bern grunted and put a hand against his back, rubbing sore muscle. “You want time, Lenkov? I’m fine with giving you time. Two months is plenty, yes?”
“Plenty,” I agreed.
“I’m okay with two months,” Torin said. “Then you clean up your toys.”
I looked at Kaspar. He gazed back and pursed his lips.
“You know, Roman, if it were me in your position, I’d be a little more contrite. I wouldn’t bring my secretary and my wife, though they seem like fine people.”
“Thank you,” Cassie said.
Kaspar nodded to her. “But why do you get a pass here? We all know Darren’s not doing any of this for no reason. You took control of the Drozdov Bratva, and that was fine, you were always their patron. But then you brokered the alliance between them and the Liberto, and that made things more complicated. Darren pushed back only to try to counter your growing, untenable strength. Why should we give you anything at all?”
I stared him down and struggled to stay calm. Fucking Kaspar, I hoped he’d be on my side. I thought Old Bern would be the difficult one, but I was wrong.
“I’m finished with the Liberto,” I said as calmly as I could. “Giatno and Manzi are both dead and their hierarchy is a mess right now dealing with the power vacuum and fighting the Ramos Cartel. If any of you want to sweep in and take them, by all means.”
“I just might do that.” Kaspar tilted his head. “But you haven’t answered my question. You’ve been too ambitious, Roman. What the hell do you want?”
I leaned toward him and took a deep breath. “I want revenge,” I said softly.
The men fell silent. Even Old Bern seemed taken aback.
I was tired of lying and games, tired of pretending, and I knew whatever was said in this room would never leave.
And it didn’t matter. The gears were turning, the plan on motion. They couldn’t stop it even if they wanted to.
&
nbsp; “Revenge? Are you still after that Irishman?” Kaspar glanced over at Torin. “What’s his name?”
“Oisin,” Torin said. “And I have a hard time seeing how all of this is connected.”
“I don’t care if you see it or not. I want revenge and I plan on getting it. Once Oisin is dead, all of this will be over, and we can return to your precious status quo.”
Kaspar finished his drink. “Revenge I can understand. Go kill away, Roman. You have my blessing. Two months should be sufficient.”
“God, you young fucks.” Old Bern struggled to his feet. “When my son takes over, he’s going to chew you all to pieces.”
“I’m sure he will, Bern,” Torin said, grinning. “I don’t know what you’re so grumpy about. This was a great meeting. Nobody got killed.
“Define great.” Old Bern limped toward the door but paused to pat me gently on the shoulder. “I liked your old man, even if he was a real bastard.” Then he left the room.
Torin stood next. “This was fun and I hope we never do it again. Good luck, Roman. I’ll talk to Darren and see if he can cut you some slack, but don’t worry, I won’t mention Oisin.” He saluted, winked at Roza, and followed Old Bern.
Leaving Kaspar. He circled his glass and the ice clinked against the side. “I still think you’re leaving something out,” he said, speaking quietly, and looked at Cassie. “I think you’re dangling it right in front of us.”
Cassie stiffened by my side.
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“You’ve never brought a woman to a meeting before.” He glanced at Roza and made a dismissive gesture. “You don’t count.”
“Thanks, I think,” Roza said.
“Cassie is my wife now. If she’s going to share in my life, she’ll share in my business.”
“You’re lying.” Kaspar leaned forward. The bastard was perceptive—too perceptive for his own good. “I did some digging. What’s your last name, Cassie?”
“Ward,” she blurted.
I grimaced and looked away.
“Thought so. Cassie Ward, daughter of Eamon Ward. Interesting little family connection you’ve got here, Roman.”
“Sometimes you should keep your mouth shut, Kaspar.”
He showed his teeth and stood. “Don’t fret. I won’t spill the beans, though your influence over multiple crime families is growing out of control. I have the feeling there are going to be more meetings in our future.” He tossed his glass over his shoulder. It landed in the fireplace and shattered. Cassie jumped in surprise. “I can’t wait.”
Kaspar finally left.
“Showy little fuck,” I said and squeezed Cassie’s leg. “Are you okay/”
“I’m fine. What the hell was that?”
“He’s trying to intimidate you,” Roza said, glaring at the door. “How’d he figure out who Cassie is, anyway? You haven’t exactly been dangling her out a window.”
“I don’t know, but it’s worrying. I’ll deal with Kaspar another time. For now, we got what we came for.” I stood up and put on a brave face.
But inside, I was spinning.
Kaspar knew too much. I wanted to keep Cassie’s connection to Oisin and the MacKenna family a secret, but he worked it out—maybe spoke with Darren, but I couldn’t be sure. Kaspar wasn’t close with anyone, and that made him even more deadly.
“We’ll deal with Kaspar. For now, let’s get back home and plan the wedding.” I squeezed Cassie’s hand. “We’re almost there.”
She leaned against my shoulder as Roza walked ahead.
“Are you sure about all this?” Cassie asked softly. “Those men, this place, I just… what you’re doing is so dangerous, isn’t it? Even if everything goes right, you still might end up fighting for your life.”
“There’s no turning back for me.” I bent down and kissed her cheek. “But if you’re having cold feet—“
“No,” she said, staring into my eyes. “We’re getting married and you’re not getting out of it.”
I chuckled and tugged her along.
33
Erick
Roza, Roman, and Cassie exited the Shadow Club. I radioed down to my team and had the driver go pick them up as I packed my rifle. The other Oligarchs must’ve left already—though how they got out of that place, I didn’t have a clue.
Didn’t matter. Wasn’t my job.
I rounded up the men I brought for protection detail and had one car follow Roman while I drove another and went straight to the bunker. Roman took a detour, probably over to Central Park for a little bird watching, but I had to get back and check in with everyone there.
I left Rocco in charge and I’d be lucky if the whole place hadn’t burned down.
I slowed and approached the gated drive and came to a screeching hold.
The gate itself was wrecked. The metal was twisted and shattered, like something rammed through. My heart shuddered and sweat formed on my skin. I revved the engine and drove over the debris, riding fast toward the house and the bunker.
The trees were the first sign of a fight.
They were shredded in places, their trunks ripped to shreds by high-powered rifle fire. As I got closer to the buildings, smoke rose up in the air, thick and black and billowing. I stopped the car at the crest of the hill and leapt out to find the topside structure burning.
Corpses littered the ground.
My men, all of them dead.
I recognized them all. I hired them, vetted them, trained them—spent hours and days with them. We laughed, joked, shared drinks, shared smokes.
Mikey lay pale, with a thick red bullet hole in his throat. Hector had his ribs blown out, his hands against his face, lying in a pool of his own blood. Cameron was collapsed near a fountain in the middle of looking for cover.
All of them my friends. All of them dead.
There were other bodies I didn’t recognize. I kicked one over—white guy, early 30s, scar under his eye.
He wore military-grade body armor and carried an AR-15. This was no fucking joke.
The ground was drenched in water and blood. It pooled in the low places. I walked through it, gun drawn, my hand shaking.
In all my years working with these people, I’d never seen a slaughter like this before.
So many dead. Ten, twenty. I knew it happened, knew the Oligarchs were capable—but they never attacked one of their own.
I thought we were safe here.
But no, when the Oligarchs were involved, nobody was ever safe.
The bastards. The fucking bastards. I picked my way through the killing field toward the security building.
My command post was in tatters. The computers were crushed and broken. The main room was a bloodbath—it must’ve been their last stand. The fighting was vicious. Bullet holes riddled the walls and several scorch marks suggested the attackers used grenades and flashbangs to breach the door.
I found Rocco’s body in the back, leaning up against the wall, dead from a shot to the gut and the chest.
Fucking bastards.
Everything was ruined, everything broken.
Everyone gone.
I failed them.
Roman was going to lose his mind when he saw this.
Then I realized.
Fucking Roman. He was still out there.
I sprinted out of the command post, trudging over corpses, through blood and guts. I jumped back into my car and started calling as I drove away from the horror.
34
Cassie
I kissed Roman on the neck and smiled as we strolled through Central Park.
Roza stayed in the car. She said she had work to do, which was probably true, but she must’ve wanted to give us some time alone.
Which I appreciated. Roman was in a good mood, although that meeting hadn’t gone the way he wanted. Central Park seemed to cheer him up, and we talked about inconsequential things, the weather, music we liked, movies we’d watched, the small things that made up a life and someho
w had slipped through my fingers. It was strange, finding out that Roman enjoyed jazz and liked the Lord of the Rings films.
“I can almost pretend that we’re regular people,” I said as I squeezed his hand. “It’s sort of nice.”
“You’ll always be normal, but I doubt I ever will be.”
“Come on, how can you say that when you think Taylor Swift makes decent music?”
“I can respect Taylor Swift as a songwriter without succumbing to normalcy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you enjoy it up there?”
He glanced down at me. “Up where?”
“On your high horse.”
He sighed. “I walked into that.”
“You sure did.” I leaned against him and hugged his arm. “That meeting. What should I know about those men?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Old Bern’s not going to be in charge of his family forever. He’s a hard ass, but predictable. Torin’s a decent enough guy, vicious when he needs to be, but otherwise fair. Kaspar’s the dangerous one.”
“I sort of got that. You didn’t like that he knew my last name.”
“No, I really didn’t. I thought you were a better-kept secret than that.”
“Am I spoiled for you now?”
“Hardly.” His eyes narrowed and I could tell he struggled with an internal problem. “I want to keep you safe, but I need to put you in danger to get to Oisin. I’m in a bind.”
“I know. You don’t have to feel guilty.”
“If something bad happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.” He stopped, turned to me, and gripped my hands in his. His body vibrated with suppressed desire and a quiet, burning rage. Angst rolled off his skin in waves. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him it would all be okay—but that would be a lie.
I didn’t know what would happen. Only that Roman needed his revenge as much as he needed to breathe, and he’d go to any lengths to get it.
“I’m here because we made a deal, remember? I won’t back down from that.”
“Protect anyone you want.” His lips quirked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “When was the last time you spoke to Winter?”