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“How do you know that?” I ask, confusion rippling through me. “He couldn’t have acted alone.”
“He hired thugs for the attack. The Letvin crew was sitting idle that night,” my brother explains.
“Which means he wanted to keep it secret.” I put two and two together. “His family won’t wish to cross us.”
My brothers nod in unison, a fierce, unified front.
“The Letvins have never been a problem,” Vladimir adds. “Charlie has.”
“We need to send a message,” Denis suggests, a glint in his eye. “Remind him who he's dealing with.”
“Agreed.” I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “We'll confront him directly. Show him that we are not to be trifled with.”
***
The warehouse reeks of fear and desperation as we stride in, our footsteps echoing like gunshots in the cavernous space. Charlie Letvin stands in the center, flanked by his hired men.
“Mark.” Charlie spreads his arms wide, a mockery of welcome. “To what do I owe the pleasure? I was so thrilled you called for a meeting.”
I smile, cold and sharp as a blade. “Cut the bullshit, Charlie. You know exactly why we're here.”
His eyes narrow. “I'm afraid I don't follow.”
“The attack on us while we raided the Smirnovs.” I take a step forward, gratified when he flinches. “Did you really think we wouldn't find out it was you?”
Charlie scoffs, but I can see the sweat beading on his brow. “You've got it all wrong, Mark. I had nothing to do with that.”
“Lie to me again,” I growl, “and I'll rip your tongue out myself.”
The tension in the room ratchets up, thick enough to choke on. My brothers fan out behind me, a silent, menacing presence.
His men draw their guns, and my brothers and I follow suit, aiming ours directly at Charlie.
“If any of your men shoot, it’ll be you who goes down first.”
“I-I swear,” Charlie stammers, his cockiness evaporating like mist. “It wasn't me. I wouldn't dare...”
I grab him by the throat, slamming him against the wall. “Listen closely, you sniveling worm. If you ever come near us or Quinn again, if you so much as breathe in our direction or hers, I will end you. Slowly. Painfully. Until you're begging for death.”
Charlie's eyes bulge, his face turning an amusing shade of purple. “Please,” he wheezes. “I can’t breath.”
I release him, watching with disgust as he crumples to the floor. “You're lucky I'm feeling generous today. Consider this your one and only warning. If you cross us again, we willgo to your clan and show them the evidence we have of the coordinated attack you pulled off against us. We will declare war on all Letvins. Let’s see who shelters you then, when your family realizes you were the one responsible for their fall. You’ll have nowhere to run. Nowhere to go.”
We turn to leave, our point made. But I pause at the door, glancing back over my shoulder. “Oh, and Charlie? If I were you, I wouldn’t try anything smart. Because next time, there won't be any mercy.”
As we exit into the crisp night air, I feel a rush of savage satisfaction. The Zolotovs’ power is absolute, unquestioned. And heaven help anyone foolish enough to test it.
***
The drive home feels like an eternity, my body thrumming with restless energy. I can't wait to see Quinn, to wrap her in my arms, and to share the good news. With Charlie dealt with, we can finally focus on ourselves and on building a future together.
I pull into the driveway, almost jumping out of the car. The house is warm and inviting, with the soft glow of lights calling me inside. I can already picture Quinn curled up on the couch, her nose buried in a book, waiting for me.
“Quinn?” I call out as I step into the foyer, shrugging off my coat. “Sweetheart, I'm home.”
Silence greets me, an eerie stillness that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. Something's wrong. I can feel it in my bones. At this time, Quinn would be eating dinner, or reading a book, or listening to a record, or the news.
“Quinn?” I try again, my voice echoing through the empty halls.