Page 25 of Bratva's Secret Girl

They’re quite good. Be better with more guns, but, you know, eight out of ten. Would watch more for Hayley.

“What do you mean?” she asks, and as she tips her head to the side, tapping her cream-covered spoon on her lips and peering at me across this romantically set table. She exposes her throat as my shirt slips partly off her shoulder.

I salivate.

“A big house in the country, or a place in the city? Where do you envision yourself settling down?”

“Oh,” Her gaze flicks around the apartment and the windows that look out onto the dark sky and lights of London spread out, as though a carpet at her feet. “I thought maybe in London? I like being high up.”

Good. I could do either, of course, I have plenty of money to buy her any house she fancies. “A penthouse?”

She grins. “That would be nice. Good views.”

“Not more on the leafy outskirts?” I check. “I assume since you live in Richmond…”

“I’d rather be where things are happening. I can’t bear it when it’s too quiet. That choice was for my sisters. Payton likes big parks, beaches, and that sort of thing. She loves the outdoor swimming pool there. And it was for our sister, Taylor, of course.”

Alarm strikes in me.

“You have another sister?” My hands are on the table and I’m halfway to standing to fetch her.

“It’s okay. Or rather, I haven’t a clue if it’s okay or not, and haven’t for years now.”

I gesture for her to continue, my brow furrowed in concern. “Where does Taylor fit in?”

Hayley sighs, her mouth downturned. “We lost contact. She’s between Payton and me in age and was—maybe still is, I don’t know—a talented ballerina.”

Pride and sorrow shine out of Hayley’s eyes.

“She was so good, and so hard-working. A foster family we were with briefly found a place for her in a London ballet, and the school is based in Richmond.”

Dread settles in my stomach. A girl alone, in London?

“It was fine for a while. We messaged back and forth, called. Taylor often couldn’t afford her phone tariff, and often lost her phone. She’d go silent for days, then apologise and send us a video of her ballet progress. We had to call her, but we managed.”

I nod, but I’m not liking where this is going, or the sadness in Hayley’s tone.

“Then she said she had an opportunity with a Russian ballet. She was hazy on the details, but insisted it was too good to miss.”

Horror scuttles down my spine. No no no. My home country isn’t safe for an innocent girl.

“She left, and we thought it was fine, because she told us it was. But we never established exactly where she went, and then she lost her phone for several days. Then another period of more days. And by the time she stopped messaging altogether, it was too late to do anything. The police didn’t want to get involved, said she wasn’t a priority since she’d seemingly gone of her own free will. She’d disappeared. I was never really sure what happened.”

I reach across the table for her hand, my heart breaking for this young woman who took on the responsibility for her sisters, and through no fault of her own has lost both of them.

Nervously, she places her fingers in my palm, and I squeeze gently. Reassuringly.

“That’s why Payton and I moved to London when I turned eighteen, and why I have to find Payton. Searching for Taylor is my hobby, you could say.” She smiles sadly. “I don’t need another.”

“We’ll find her. And Payton. Both your lost sisters. We’ll find them both.”

There’s so much hope and trust in her eyes as she looks across at me. “You’ll help?”

“Give me a second.” I stroke my thumb over her knuckles then rise and grab my phone from where I left it on the kitchen counter. There are a dozen messages from the London Mafia Syndicate, which I scan. They’re all updates that amount to no progress yet. I message Richmond, and tell him I’ll call in the morning, because I need him to investigate the disappearance of another girl, some years ago, from Richmond.

There’s an immediate reply that includes a generous portion of Italian swear words and a thumbs-up emoji. Given that Richmond’s own family died in a mafia dispute, I take that as an affirmative and that I don’t need to make any threats to ensure he helps.

“That’s a start.” I click my phone off, and leave it on the counter before sitting down again. My girl deserves all my attention. It will screech if there’s an emergency alert from my second-in-command or the London Mafia Syndicate. “I just let Richmond know.”