by LP Lovell
“How many?”
“Hundreds.” He nods his head towards the door. “Hundreds like her.” Sam lifts a brow and glances at me. I shake my head because I don’t want to be reminded of how impossible our odds are right now. “The base has only one entrance in and out, and the gate is heavily guarded, with a two-mile-long approach road. If you can get within a mile of the gate without being shot by their long-range snipers, you then have to get in the gate. If you’d seen these guys fight or shoot, then you’d know how difficult that will be. Then you’ve got a blast-proof concrete bunker with an underground base, all filled with Elite.”
The door opens, and Una steps inside followed closely by Nero. She glances at the plans on the table without much interest.
Nero moves to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of whiskey. Dark shadows linger beneath his eyes, and I can only imagine what it’s like to have a woman like Una Ivanov carrying your child. He swallows the whiskey in two gulps and turns his attention to the plans sitting across from me. Una takes a seat next to him, and he lays a possessive hand on her thigh. She says nothing as everyone goes backward and forward, coming to the same conclusion again and again. There is no way to break into that base. Anna is not getting out unless Nicholai willingly releases her.
I can’t take this. I’ve never felt so frustrated or helpless. I’m a cartel boss, and even with the help of the Italian mafia, I can’t get back the only thing I really give a fuck about. Pushing to my feet, I spit a curse and slam my hand against the wall.
Una gets up and walks out. She feels it too. I know she does. We’re both so close to losing something we love. She was never even reunited with her sister, and she already faces losing her again after all this time without her.
I sit in Nero’s front room with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. I need the liquor to calm my nerves and enable me to simply sit still. Doing nothing—it’s the hardest thing. Action, blood, violence; these are the things I understand. I’m losing control, and I’ve never felt so lost.
Someone clears their throat, and I glance up to find Samuel leaning against the door frame.
“Miguel called.” Miguel is Sam’s most trusted guy, the one left to oversee everything in our absence. “The Sinaloa just burned one of our factories to the ground and shot up Red’s.” I drag a hand through my hair, trying to muster the will to care about anything other than Anna for a second. Leaving Miguel was stupid. He’s capable, but I don’t trust him the way I do Samuel or Carlos.
“Send Carlos home.”
“I can go.”
I shake my head. “No, I need you,” I say quietly. I need Samuel’s logical, rational way of thinking. I need my friend because I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion right now.
He nods. “Okay. I’ll send him back.” He leaves the room without another word. And here I sit, my world tipping precariously on its axis as this rage festers away inside me. The penthouse quiets, and the darkness embraces me. The city lights spread out beyond the windows like a sea of stars, and it makes me think of Anna. Didn’t anyone ever tell you? You can’t see the stars without the dark. It’s apt really because, without her, everything seems pitch black. She is the stars.
I light another cigar and inhale the smoke deep into my lungs as though its burning pain can erase this hollow ache in my chest. I hear movement behind me and glance around to see one of Nero’s Doberman’s trotting across the living room excitedly. I barely notice the shadowy figure lingering at the bottom of the stairs until the dog stops in front of her. Una watches me through narrowed eyes, her hand behind her back, no doubt reaching for a gun.
“You’re going to him,” I say. I think I knew she would because I would. I only have to look at her to see all of my own feelings mirrored back at me. We’re both helpless, but she has the power to do something.
“Do not try and stop me. I do what I must.”
I lean forward, allowing the cigar to hang loosely from my fingers as I prop my elbows on my thighs. “You will sacrifice yourself for her?”
“Yes.”
“And your child? You will sacrifice your child for her?”
Her eyes flash, her jaw ticking. “I thought you…felt something for her.”
I sigh and push to my feet, guilt and sheer fucking desperation riding me as I step in front of her. “Yes,” I breathe, swallowing heavily. “But Anna would never wish you to sacrifice an innocent child, Angel.”
“I have a plan.”
I lift the cigar to my lips, taking a slow drag. “Ah, you and Nero and your plans.”
“This one…it doesn’t involve Nero.” So she’s turning on him for her sister, running off to Russia with his child in her belly. This will break him. I imagine Anna. What would she say to this? I know she’d never allow it. Maybe I should stop Una, but I fucking can’t because I know that without this, Anna is lost to me. Love is selfish for a man like me.
“How do you know he will release Anna?” What if he simply keeps them both?
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t.” When someone as accomplished as Una looks so unsure, you know shit is bad. “I need you to do me a favor,” she says. I nod. “If he doesn’t release Anna, bargain for her return. Once he has me, he doesn’t need her. Let him put her to good use elsewhere.”
“Bargain what?”
“You have a port…”
“Yes.”
“Offer him the use of it. Getting arms over the southern border is the easiest access point into America, but the cartels won’t allow the Russians any foothold.”
I say nothing, my thoughts racing through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. “That would cause problems,” I murmur, even knowing that there is nothing that I would not do for Anna.
She glances nervously towards the top of the stairs. “Look, it won’t be for long. Anyway, Nicholai is not one to break his word. I think he’ll let her go.”
I shake my head. I don’t think he’ll let her go. I wouldn’t if I had that kind of collateral. “You are his favored pet, Angel. And you have proven unruly. He has the means to control you. Do not think that he will give that up easily.” I sigh and rub a hand over the back of my neck. A strange sense of guilt niggles at me, not for any kind of moral obligation but simply because I know Anna would hate this. She’d hate me for letting Una do this. “Go. I did not see you.”
“Thank you.”
“And Una…”
“Yes?”
I glance at her rounded stomach. “Be safe.”
She walks out of the room, and I hear the muted ding of the elevator before I push to my feet, stubbing the cigar out in the ashtray. Sooner or later someone will realize she’s missing. I’m not sure how she slipped away without Nero noticing in the first place. I’m not sure I want to know.
I ascend the stairs to the second level where Nero allocated us guest rooms. I open the door at the end of the hallway and slip inside. My head is swimming with whiskey, but still, I can’t drown out my own thoughts. Like a swarm of furious bees, they black out everything, stinging me over and over with vile possibilities and what ifs. What if I can’t get her back? What if Una can’t get her back? What if Nicholai keeps her? What if he kills her? And most of all, what if I do get her back, only to have lost not only her sister but also an innocent child? Will she hate me?
I fall back on the bed and clutch at my head. In times of war, we do what we must. My father used to say that to me to justify the blood and death that I would bathe in for him. This is war, isn’t it? The Russian and I, we are standing on two sides of a board with opposing wants. In essence, I should have no fight with him, no cause for offense. Anna should never have been worthy of any such cause, and yet she is.
A great man once said that wars are fought for many reasons, so why not love? Isn’t that the greatest cause of all? Or perhaps it just blinds us so absolutely that rational men become wild.
To love is one thing, but the loss of love…well, that
will corrupt a man’s soul entirely.
15
Rafael
I wake up to a pounding on the door. “Rafe!”
Sitting up, I swipe a hand over my face. Fuck. My head is pounding, and my stomach feels like a cement mixer. There’s a moment, one blissful moment where all I think about is my hangover, and then everything rushes back in like a flood. Anna. Like a clap of thunder, she rips through my thoughts in an instant. “Rafe!” There’s another rap on the door.
“Yeah?” I croak.
The door opens, and Samuel walks in, his nose now well and truly bruised, courtesy of Una. His eyes flick over me briefly, taking in my clothes from yesterday. “Una left.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I know.”
He glances over his shoulder nervously before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “What do you mean you know?” he hisses.
“I saw her last night.”
He drags both hands through his hair and releases an aggravated breath. “Please do not tell the Italians that. She drugged Nero to get away.”
I push to my feet and fight the wave of dizziness. “I have no intention of telling Nero.”
“She went for Anna?”
I nod. “It’s not like I could have stopped her anyway.” He eyes me. “But even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
“She’s pregnant, Rafe,” he says quietly.
“I know that.” I snap. “But it’s Anna. I trust that Una wouldn’t just hand herself over in some suicide mission. It’s not how she operates.”
“You trust the Russian?”
“I trust that she loves her sister.” I drag my shirt over my head and wince at my aching muscles. The pounding in my skull is getting louder. I need coffee.
“You look like shit,” Sam says, eyeing me up and down. “I’ll be downstairs.” The door clicks shut behind him
I walk into the bathroom and glance at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles linger beneath my eyes, and the left side of my face has turned an ugly purple from Una’s right hook yesterday. He’s right. I look like shit, but I can’t muster the will to care.
After a shower and a change of clothes, I go downstairs. It’s sheer chaos. The tension in the penthouse could be cut with a knife. Nero is pacing the length of the kitchen. His hair sticking up everywhere as though he’s been running his fingers through it non-stop. A red mark is very clearly visible on the side of his neck, and I guess that’s where Una drugged him.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar next to Samuel with Gio on the other side. Nero pauses, turning to face me. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and it’s a testament to how rattled he is because I’ve never seen the Italian out of a suit. He’s a mafia boss. A cold killer. He’s the guy I hired to kill my father, a powerful cartel boss. And yet right now, he looks exactly how I feel. Helpless, pitiful…broken.
“Rafael, do you have contacts in Russia?” he asks.
I frown. “I supply the Bratva with coke, but so do the other cartels. They’re business acquaintances only.”
He clenches and releases his fists before resuming his pacing. “We know where she’s heading, but we’d never get there in time. I just need to get someone to stop her.” He slams a palm against the breakfast bar. “But we fucking have no one.”
“Let me make a call.” I slide off the bar stool and go into the living room, standing at the window. I stare at my phone for a moment. Do I try and help him? I let Una go last night because I knew it was her and only her who could get Anna back. My fingers tighten around the phone until my knuckles turn white. I’m not a man of morals. I understand only business and violence, and selfish need. Anna is the most selfish and absorbed need I have. Nero is my greatest business ally, and Una…well, she is something they both love. Where does that leave me? If I loved Anna, truly loved her, surely I’d save her sister? It’s what she would want, isn’t it?
I rest my forehead against the cool glass of the window, hoping to slow the whirlwind of useless thoughts firing through my head.
“Are you going to call Dimitri?” I glance over my shoulder at Samuel.
“I don’t know. I doubt very much that he’ll help.” There’s a moment of silence. “Would she hate me for letting her sister go?” I whisper.
“Does it matter? You love her. Do you really care if she hates you as long as she’s safe?”
“We’ve only ever known basic survival, Sam. The cartel was our salvation.” I look at him. “I feel like I can’t fucking breathe without her. I should be better, but I’m selfish, especially when it comes to her. I’d sacrifice a lot more than her sister to have her back.”
“Good. Because you’re probably going to have to.” He holds his hand out for the phone, and I place it in his palm. “I’ll call Dimitri.” He eyes me meaningfully, and I nod, walking out of the room. It’s best that it’s out of my hands.
The waiting is the worst part of all of this. There, in Nero’s penthouse, we’re like caged animals all waiting to know our fate. Nero and his guys have been in the office for hours, no doubt trying to work out how to get Una back, while I’m here trying to get Anna back. We’re each working to selfish needs while knowing that the women we love would sacrifice everything for each other.
The office door bursts open and Nero walks out looking like he’s about to end the world as we know it.
“Una called,” he says through gritted teeth.
“What did she say?”
He glances at me, his expression ice-cold. “Goodbye. So now we do things the old-fashioned way.”
I lift a brow. “What did you have in mind?”
A slow, wicked smile pulls at his lips. “Blood, war, carnage. We’ll bring the Russians to their knees. Let’s see how long they keep hold of two women when their women are dying, and their businesses are crippled.”
A sense of relief rises in my chest, a spark of hope chasing away the helplessness that I’ve been feeling ever since Anna was taken. Action I can do. Waiting I cannot. But I have to give Una a chance. She sacrificed herself for her sister, and even though I have no faith that the Russian will stay true to his word and release her, I have to give it a second. Don’t I? The problem is, Nero is looking at me like he’s ready to set the world on fire and laugh as he watches it burn. I know the feeling well, and I know what he’s capable of.
“What do you need?” I ask.
He takes a tin from his pocket, removing a cigarette and placing it between his lips. His lighter clicks, the flame dancing over the end of the cigarette before the scent of smoke wafts around me. “I need you to take down their business. All of their drugs come from Mexico.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “They deal with several cartels.”
“Then do what you have to in order to cease their supply.”
I nod hesitantly. “What about their guns?”
His lips twitch, though any trace of humor is completely absent from his expression. This is the Nero Verdi that even the Italians are terrified of. He carries a certain madness that’s so very unpredictable. “They buy from the Arabs. I have a man there.”
“Get me the times and places of the shipments and my men will handle it.” Subtly, my men will handle it subtly. If I’m careful, I can work this to my advantage. I can have zero culpability. Nero will cause enough problems that they’ll be focused on him, and as such, they’ll assume that any missing drugs or guns are due to him. I just want to get my girl and get out, but Nero and I are bound in this situation just as surely as the two sisters we’re fighting for. We have been since the moment he asked me to take Anna, perhaps even long before then. He did kill my father for me, after all, and that kind of favor brings with it an unbreakable loyalty.
He inhales a deep breath. “Good. Gio?” His guy appears like a ghost. “Get me some C4. Lots of it. New York is about to witness the biggest Russian barbeque it’s ever seen.”
Yes, madness, thinly disguised as genius, that’s what Nero Verdi is.
S
tanding up, I leave the room with Samuel falling into step beside me. “Give it three days and then make contact with Nicholai Ivanov.”
I hate to wait that long. Each minute feels like the lowering of an axe towards Anna’s exposed neck, but I have to give Una a chance. She went there for a trade. There’s no incentive for him to be honorable about this. However, if I jump the gun too soon, I’ll be handing him the use of my port when he may have released her anyway. Three days is as long as I’m willing to give it but beyond that…well, fuck business. This has gone far beyond that. I don’t care about a port anymore.
She’s all that matters.
16
Anna
I’ve lost all track of time. Without windows, I can’t even say whether it’s day or night. The sensory deprivation is something I’m used to, but the lack of human contact is affecting me far more than I ever thought it could. I never thought I would crave interaction, but as I sit here, with what feels like the first vestiges of insanity caressing the edge of my mind, I wonder if all those men I hated so much actually kept me sane? Were those bleak interactions actually necessary to my survival? No, I refuse to believe that. Resting my back to the wall, I pull my knees to my chest and close my eyes. Rafael is right there, waiting behind my closed lids like an apparition. A small smile touches my lips when I picture him. He may well be the only thing keeping me even slightly sane. I always knew hope was dangerous, but there it is, like a tiny flame barely staying alight in the darkness; the hope that Rafael will save me from this, even though the few rational parts of my mind know it’s impossible. Stupid. So very stupid. The only way I’m walking out of here is if my sister comes for me, and I pray that she doesn’t.
I hear the metallic click of the lock releasing, followed by the loud squealing of the hinges as the heavy metal door is opened. I expect the guard to come in with food, the same as always. Instead, Nicholai walks in, his immaculate suit in place, that cold, absent look in his eyes. The door slams closed behind him, the bang like a gunshot in the enclosed concrete cell.