Page 88

Story: Climbing Everest

Again, his eyes cut to the side.

Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear, “If you know who’s behind it, tell me now. Either you die, everyone dies, or the person responsible dies. Your choice.”

“Fuck,” the dude spits out with a shake of his head. “Dima.”

I jerk back and frown down at him. “What was that?”

“Dima Sidorov.”

“What about him?” Kato asks, moving closer, his arms still crossed over his chest.

“He’s been intercepting shipments. No one here is involved.” His eyes raise to mine, then dart back to the ground.

A tell. But what the fuck is he lying about?

Snatching him by the back of the neck, I drag him away from the group and toward the unused office, shoving him through the door and kicking it shut.

I probably should have told either Kato or Brix what I’m planning, but I couldn’t risk anyone else overhearing. We’ve all worked together long enough that they should trust I’ll do what’s best for Kato, for the Antoniou name, and for our syndicate.

“Spill. Now.”

“There’s a mole. He’s here. He’s part of the Bratva, but I don’t think the Pakhan is aware Sidorov put him in place.”

The fact Dima has been watching our shipments so closely makes my stomach turn. It would be so easy for a simple slip to alert him that his daughter is alive, well, and currently within the walls of our estate.

“You know the asshole’s name? Or can you describe him? Is he here?”

He nods and rattles off a description of said asshole’s appearance, even what he’s currently wearing.

I roll my neck, cracking the joints, and stare at this…well, he’s not a kid. He might actually be older than me but he stands maybe at five feet seven, barely an inch or so taller than Everest.

“How long have you worked for Kato?”

“I worked for Mr. Antoniou…uh, Christos since I was seventeen, then swore my fealty to Kato after the death of his father. My allegiance is to the Antoniou name,” he says, dipping his head like he’s bowing in reverence to Kato’s surname.

“What’s your name?”

“Nick, sir.” Of course. I swear all Greeks name their kids one version of Nick or another.

“You’re going to have to disappear for a while, until we figure out if there are any other plants. You got somewhere to go?”

His mouth pops open and his eyes go wide, then he huffs a relieved breath. Poor fucker thought he was a dead man regardless.

“Yeah. I got somewhere to go,” he says.

Pulling the gun from my pants, I aim it toward the far wall and pull the trigger three times in rapid succession.

He’s staring at me with a mixture of fear and concern, but I simply put a finger to my lips, step from the office, then pull the door closed behind me.

Brix and Kato turn to frown at me as they hear my approaching footsteps.

I don’t say a word, barely send them a ghost of a glance as I make my way to the man fitting the description Nick gave me.

When he realizes I’m glaring down at him, he lifts his head and meets my eyes.

In perfect Russian, I say, “You misplaced your loyalty.”

He replies in Russian. “My loyalty has never and will never change.”