The Heir: (A Dark Mafia Romance) Bratva Blood

by SR Jones

  I have to do this. I have to do this for Esme so she can finally be free.

  I nod once, and Number Three gives me a grim smile. “Good.”

  “Listen.” Number Two draws my attention. “Shoot the guard first, back of the head, twice. You don’t have a powerful gun, so you need to be fast. Konstantin will have to go for his gun then. It’s what he will do.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “Training. He’s Special Forces, and his training is so intense, he will do what he’s always done. It will be instinctive. He’ll reach for his gun, and I imagine turn to look at you, at the threat. Shoot him once in the chest, once in the head. Then two head shots to Cassie, quick and merciless. Take the gun, wrap it in the plastic baggy you’ve got, swim to the next bay, and get the fuck out of there. As soon as we receive confirmation Silvanov is dead, your daughter is on her way to her auntie’s. Okay?”

  For the first time ever, I see something other than cold-hearted viciousness in his features. I see desperation.

  I nod, numb with terror. Who has someone as awful as him scared? Jesus. How high does this go?

  “Good girl,” he says, then the screen goes blank.

  Chapter Two

  Zoey

  Corfu is hot and sunny, and you could be forgiven for thinking it’s the height of summer.

  It’s a beautiful scene in front of me here at the home of Andrius and Violet, one of happiness and joy. And I’m watching it as if through a glass wall. Nothing feels real. Not even my own skin feels real whenever I touch it to try to ground myself.

  I posted the letter to Andrius and called Vasily.

  One final, desperate attempt.

  I dare not tell Konstantin what I’m really doing here, not after what Bohdan said to me when he picked me up from the airport and brought me here. When he told me that Konstantin does not forgive those who trespass against him, I know he meant it.

  No, I don’t dare to speak up. Not with Andrius prowling around, watching me, like the deadly killer he is. No, I can’t tell these men, or at least not until after the fact, when I’m hoping the letter and my probable death will make Andrius at least decide to save my daughter. Vasily, though, I have told. Or rather, I’ve left a garbled message on his phone begging for his help, telling him I’m in a deep mess. He hasn't responded, like all the other times.

  Justina is here, Andrius’ housekeeper from back in the UK. If it weren’t for the fact that I can see how much he loves Violet, and how uninterested he and Justina are in one another sexually, I’d swear there had to be something going on between them. Who is she to him? Their relationship makes little sense to me. They are like siblings, but they’re not related so far as I’m aware. She’s obviously more than his housekeeper, though. Most of the time, she hardly acts like an employee.

  Bohdan isn’t here at the moment; he’s in Paris with Dasha, sorting things out with her so she can move some of her stuff here. Justina told me that much. Dasha and Bohdan are in love, and it’s nice to see. I don’t worry for Dasha the way I do for Cassie and Violet. She’s a world-famous ballerina. She has her shit together. Cassie is naïve, and Violet? There’s something unbearably innocent about her, and Andrius is an absolute bastard, so how they work I don’t know.

  “Want a vodka and tonic?” Justina shouts to me from across the pool, breaking into my thoughts, holding a vodka bottle up from where it has been resting in an ice bucket.

  I shake my head. “No thanks.” I’m in the shade, and she’s in the sun. Maxim is by my side, and we’ve gotten a lot done today.

  I’ve been here a few days now, working with Maxim, Konstantin’s friend, on artwork for the latest game. There’s a huge buzz around it. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m here to kill the golden goose, Konstantin might have been about to make me famous in gaming circles, and wealthy too.

  My stomach is sour, but I could murder a vodka or brandy. Hell, anything more than eighty percent proof sounds good right about now.

  In fact, I think I will take that drink because fuck it, it doesn’t really matter if I pickle my liver. I cross the space and am about to pour when Cassie pokes her head around the door of the big house Andrius lives in and shouts to Justina. “We’re taking Gully to the beach,” she says. “Want to come?”

  Gully is Gulliver, her Golden Retriever, and the most gorgeous dog. I kind of love him, and I’ve only met him a few times.

  Justina shakes her head. “Nah, thanks, lovely. I’m about to have a drink.”

  Cassie pouts. “No one wants to come. Violet is taking a nap, and Andrius is working.”

  “Can I come?” I ask before I even realize I’m going to do it. “I know I’m meant to be working, but it will freshen me up.” I fake a yawn.

  The words pop out automatically. I’ve packed a swimsuit and a small towel every day with the hope of this happening, and it hasn’t.

  “Sure,” she says, all easy, sunny, and nice. So nice. And I’m about to blow her world to smithereens.

  “Oh, go on then, me too,” Justina says.

  Fuck. I thought it would be Cassie, Konstantin, and the guard they always have with them. Now Justina will be there too.

  What the hell? What’s one more death on my conscience? I’m going to be dead within hours of doing this, and I’m going straight to hell. I can only hope and pray that once this is done my Esme gets to fly free, and this is all worth it.

  “I’ll grab my things,” I say with a smile. Thank God I had years of practice lying, due to the various assignments the Order have sent me on and am now able to disguise what I’m really feeling. I could win an Oscar for the performances I give.

  In the room where I put my things earlier, I calm my breathing, but my heart is pounding too fast. Fuck, I’m going to screw this up. My hands are shaking, and my breathing is rapid. Okay, I need some help. I open my small toiletry bag and take out a beta blocker. I swallow it down without water and take a few deep breaths. It won’t affect my judgment the way a benzo would, but it will help keep my heart rate under control. I hope it has time to kick in before the action does.

  I put my swimsuit on, and shorts over the top with zip pockets. Then I take three plastic bags out of my tote. I wrap the pay-as-you-go phone in one plastic bag. I carefully place that in a Ziploc bag and seal it, and then fasten both phones and both bags in another tie bag. That way my phone will most likely be protected from water.

  Taking my gun out of the concealed compartment in my large work bag, I place it into the cotton beach bag, Both were checked, of course, on arrival. Andrius checks everyone’s bags, but the Order have placed a special concealed area in my work bag.

  Hands shaking, I put the gun, wrapped in a towel to disguise the shape, into my beach bag. This is not likely to get checked again on my way to the beach. If it is, then I’m dead. I’d be sanguine about that outcome if it were only me. It’s Esme I care about.

  I put some water and a sweater on the top of the bag. It will probably be cooler at the beach, and it also helps hide the gun. I leave my room.

  My mouth is so dry, and my palms are damp. Andrius comes out of his room and bumps into me. He glances at me, mumbles sorry, but then looks at me again. His forehead furrows as he watches me.

  “Are you okay?”

  Shit, fuck, fuck. This man scares me more than Konstantin because Andrius watches people like a damn hawk. He takes them in, studies them, and files shit away, and he’s seen something in me. I’m sure of it. I think he’s vaguely suspicious of me.

  “Not really,” I say, and then because he’s someone I bet can tell a lie a mile away, I go with a partial truth. “My daughter has a really important week coming up, and I can’t stop thinking about it, or her.”

  “You have a daughter?” His brows shoot up in surprise.

  “Yes, sort of.” Shit, I remember my file distinctly doesn’t mention a daughter, and I bet Andrius has looked me up. “She’s my stepdaughter, or would have been if we’d gotten married, me and her fa
ther, I mean. I don’t talk about her much because it hurts.” I glance at the ground, and I don’t have to fake the tears in my eyes when I look back at him. “Her father was killed, and she went to her grandparents, and I don’t get to see her anymore.” Oh, the lies I have told.

  “I’m sorry,” he says awkwardly.

  I think I might have made him uncomfortable enough to save myself from more scrutiny.

  “Thanks.” I hate myself. I hate myself with the burning of a thousand suns, but I tell myself this is simply life. Survival of the fittest.

  Andrius has ended many lives, and now I’m about to do the same to his friends.

  “Best get going; they’ll be waiting. I’m going to the beach to try to clear my head.”

  I smile at him and head down the stairs. I can feel his gaze on me the whole way. Shit, has he guessed something?

  When I hit the living room, I see Konstantin, Justina, and Cassie, along with the armed Spetsnaz guy they always take with them.

  We head out to the car and as we reach it, Justina’s phone goes off. She answers and grins wide. “Babe. You okay?”

  She gestures for us to go on ahead as she pivots and walks around to the pool.

  Thank God. I won’t have to kill another innocent person, only Cassie.

  I tell myself repeatedly that Konstantin and the soldier, whose name I don’t even know, are not innocent. They are men of war. They would understand what I have to do and why I did it if they knew.

  Gulliver jumps into the back of the old Land Rover, and Cassie laughs at him, her face radiant. She’s glowing these days. Domestic bliss suits her.

  She glances at Konstantin upfront and smiles to herself. It’s an odd, secretive little Mona Lisa smile, and for a moment I wonder what it’s all about. As if aware of my scrutiny, she glances at me and gives me a grin. “I love this beach,” she says. “It’s so stunning. The water is crystal clear. I swear it is my happy place.”

  I smile at her and try not to freak the fuck out at what I’m about to do.

  We hit the beach, and they head off toward the water, Gulliver running around in a winding pattern as he follows scents.

  Tears sting my eyes as I picture him howling over the bodies of the people who rescued him. Oh, God, I can’t.

  Then, in my mind’s eye, I see Esme being abused horrifically, and I know I must. I literally have no other option.

  “Just going to put my sweater on,” I say as I sit on a rock and rummage in my bag.

  Cassie smiles and then focuses on Gulliver. They’re all facing away from me. She says something to Konstantin, and he takes this floating toy on a rope they have for the dog and throws it out to sea. Pretty damn far it seems to me. Gulliver barks and leaps into the waves before swimming for it.

  I take the gun out of my bag, concealed still by my sweater, and stand. Once I’m upright, I lose the sweater, raise my arm, and aim at the soldier first.

  Pop. Pop. I hit him in the back of the head, twice, the way I was told to.

  Everything slows down. It’s as if I have superhuman powers because I see each tiny, incremental movement.

  The Order were wrong because Konstantin’s training doesn’t override everything.

  His need to protect Cassie does.

  Konstantin doesn’t turn around or even go for his gun. Instead, he rushes Cassie and takes her to the ground. As he does, I fire off a shot.

  Fuck, what am I doing?

  I hit his shoulder as he lands on Cassie hard.

  Cassie screams, and I try to focus. I need to get him in the back of the head.

  Shit.

  My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold the gun. Those damn beta blockers obviously cannot override the epic levels of adrenaline flooding my body.

  I stare at my targets, and panic overwhelms me.

  They’re a tangle of limbs on the ground, and he’ll be drawing his weapon any moment.

  I run to them and fire at Konstantin’s head, but I miss.

  Shit. Fuck. How can I be so bad at this? I was trained, damn it.

  I aim again and hit him, but once more get his shoulder, opposite one this time, close range. He grunts, and Cassie screams and screams.

  K isn’t reaching for his gun anymore, though. For a moment, he doesn’t move. But then like some horror movie monster, he comes back to life.

  Cassie is trying to get from under him. Why? Is she going to reach for his gun? He’s turning over, and I realize he’s going for his weapon despite being shot twice. Fucking useless toy gun.

  I turn to the dead guard to my right and grab his gun from his back pocket. It’s a .45, so a much higher caliber.

  I turn back and aim once more at Konstantin. I’m beyond terrified, horrified, and disgusted with myself, but all I can see is Esme.

  She’s front and center as I raise a weapon I know will do damage and fire. This time my aim would have been good, but Cassie kicks me, knocking me off course. The bullet misses where I’ve aimed but hits Konstantin in the right arm. The noise is so damn loud, and the kick is strong enough to send me staggering back. It’s been a long time since I’ve discharged a weapon with this much power, and I’m nothing but a ball of fear and adrenaline.

  Cassie kicks out at me again, but she misses. She’s struggling to get out from under Konstantin who finally isn’t moving.

  God, I need this to end.

  I close my eyes for one moment and see my daughter, then I open them again and aim the gun at Cassie. She kicks and kicks until she’s wiggled free of Konstantin. My hand is shaking, but I force myself to inhale deeply and focus. Cassie’s face is ashen, and she stares at me with wide, betrayed eyes.

  And then she does it. She does the thing that fucks it all up for me.

  She puts her hands on her belly.

  I know what that gesture means. I also know it is purely instinctive.

  Cassie is pregnant.

  Cassie is carrying a child. Esme comes to mind again. My hand shakes more. I close my eyes and squeeze the trigger, but I don’t do it all the way.

  My eyes pop open to see Cassie still staring at me, her hands on her stomach, her breathing so fast she’s probably hyperventilating.

  Konstantin grunts, and he’s trying to move himself so he can use his other arm to reach for his gun despite being shot three fucking times. The heroic bastard.

  Barking and growling to my right has me turning to see Gulliver has swum back. He’s abandoned his toy and is in the shallows. Hackles raised and teeth bared, he starts to rush toward us.

  Fuck.

  I panic and can’t even think anymore. My mind is a blank, and my body is stuck, unable to do anything other than stare at the mess I’ve made. Konstantin manages to move, and he’s going for where he has that gun of his in a baggie to keep it dry while he swam.

  Cassie is still staring at me, hands on her stomach, and I can’t shoot her. The dog is barreling down on us, and I can’t shoot him either. I can’t do anything anymore except let my body do its thing, and its thing it seems is flight.

  I turn and run.

  Cassie shouts at Gulliver, and he must go to her because I can no longer hear him snapping at my heels. I reach the ocean and dive in, swimming as fast and hard as I can out to sea before I turn left and swim around the rocks toward the next cove.

  A sound reaches me, and it’s the most mournful, God awful sound I’ve ever heard. It’s Gulliver howling.

  Chapter Three

  Vasily

  Moscow

  I’m walking down the street, planning exactly what I’m going to say to Ilya when my phone vibrates. I glance at it in annoyance. If it’s Zoey again, I’m going to call her back and tell her to fuck off. The woman called me earlier. To say what, I don’t know because I’m not taking her calls, which you’d think would be a hint.

  I have a meeting in ten, and I don’t really have time for this. Today, I want to finalize our future working relationship with Ilya. I also need to call K and fess up about my weird in
tuition regarding Zoey, and I need to man up and call the woman back. She obviously has something she needs to say to me, and I need to tell her to leave me the fuck alone.

  I glance at the screen, about to ignore it, when I see it’s Andrius. He never calls for a chat.

  Something cold and sticky skitters down my spine. I press answer.

  “Da?”

  “Vasily, K’s been hit.”

  “What?” I stop walking, and some dickhead bumps into me, grumbling as he steps around me.

  “K’s been fucking hit.”

  Andrius sounds … broken. I’ve never heard him sound this way.

  “Is he alive?”

  “He’s being prepped for surgery. Massive damage to his arm, shock, blood loss. Fuck. One of our soldiers is dead. Cunt was going to take Cassie out too. God, Cassie, she’s sedated. She’s in shock. She did it on the fucking beach.”

  “Who?” I ask, but I already know.

  I knew that fucking bitch wasn’t right. Jesus, this is my fault.

  “Zoey.” His word barely penetrates as I struggle to contain everything I’m feeling in this moment.

  I stop breathing. I cannot get in my next breath. “Say that again.”

  “That fucking black-haired, skinny fucking cunt did it, and she’s got to be on Corfu. When I find her, I’m going to tear her limbs off.”

  Then Andrius does something he rarely does, he shouts. “Fucking rules gone now, Vasily. Female or not, she’s going to feel pain like she’s never known.”

  “Andrius, calm down. You want to end up in a cell? Stop shouting.”

  He breathes heavily a few times. I can almost picture him trying to get a grip on himself.

  Zoey? Zoey with a Y did this. I could have stopped it. I knew she was off. Something wasn’t right. But this?

  My Zoey? That’s how I’ve always thought of her, even though nothing happened between us until recently. I’d always felt something for her, something dark and primal and oddly possessive.