Page 8 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ALEXEI

“ T hat fucking prick Barnes.”

Luk looks like he wants to pitch his drink against the wall. My brothers and I are seated at the large, oval oak table in the dining room of the Ivanov mansion, a fire roaring in the fireplace nearby.

It’s technically Luk’s home, along with his wife, Maura, and their children, but the house functions as an informal base of operations for business as well.

“The way he squirmed and tried to get out of it. Christ, he was practically giddy when that Fed showed up and told us to take a hike.”

Yuri, our other brother, leans in. He gives his drink a little push with his fingertip as he considers his words.

“You’re telling me that Barnes didn’t give us information about what happened? For how much we pay him? He must have a death wish.”

“Times are different now.” Lev swirls his whiskey in his glass. “The cops aren’t helping like they did back in our father’s day.”

Years ago, a well-placed bribe would’ve opened every door we needed. Now, we’re stuck in a back-and-forth with the cops, and now the Feds, and it’s clear our hands are tied.

Luk lets out a frustrated huff. “The city’s gone soft. They don’t respect the old ways anymore. Can’t even pay off a detective without some bullshit. What’s the world coming to?”

Our sister Elena strides in, her usual quiet confidence wrapped around her like armor.

“Evening, boys.”

She’s been holed up in her tech cave for hours now, no doubt digging through databases we aren’t supposed to have access to. She drops a folder on the table, then puts her hands on her hips, a pleased smile on her face.

“I got what you wanted,” she says. “Pulled some strings—digitally speaking. Autopsy photos, preliminary reports, the works. Anything that looked like it might have information on what De la Rosa has been up to in Chicago, I pulled.

Lev raises an eyebrow, impressed. “You’re a miracle worker, El.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She winks at the group.

I open the folder, flipping through the images. The bodies are a mess—gunshot wounds, knife slashes, all sorts of gruesome shit. But what catches my eye are the tattoos, dark ink on skin, barely visible under bruises and blood.

“Those are Mexican,” I say, tapping one of the victim’s tattoos, a fearsome-looking Santa Muerte. “Likely Colombian, too.”

Elena yanks back a chair and plops into it. “I thought you’d recognize them. Looks like we’ve got more than just locals coming after us. Colombians and Mexicans, side by side. That’s not a coincidence.”

Luk sits back as if the reality of the situation has just dawned on him.

“They’re forming an alliance,” he says.

“That’s right,” I add. “The jobs these pictures are from are surprise hits on local crime families, Mexicans and Colombians working together to get a foothold in Chicago.”

Elena’s face goes dark. “And there’s more, if you boys can handle it.”

Yuri chuckles. “You think there’s anyone at this table who isn’t used to the gruesome and dark?”

She shrugs. “Well, there’s gruesome, and there’s… this. Let me just show you.”

With that, she pulls the folder toward her and flips through the pictures.

“Here,” she says. “A local drug dealer.”

She passes the picture to Luk, and his face falls. Then the photo goes to Lev, then to Yuri. Each of them turns grim at the sight of whatever’s in the photo. Yuri passes the picture to me.

“That’s something you can’t unsee,” he says.

I look at the photo, and he’s not wrong. I let out a whoosh of air.

“Colombian necktie,” I say, handing the picture back to Elena. “When a bullet to the head just won’t do.”

Elena nods. “That’s right. Colombian necktie trademarks all over the city. Their style, their calling card. And it’s clear they’re out for blood.”

“And they want us to know they’re here,” Yuri says. “Something like this…” he nods at the photos, “…it’s about more than just taking out a poor shithead in a horrific way. It’s about letting everyone else in the city know what’s in store for them if they stand in the cartel’s way.”

“I don’t know about you, but I prefer my ties from Hermès—not Bogota,” I quip.

Yuri goes on. “Cartels have no code. They go after women, children, anyone who they think could send the right message of fear. They’re a goddamn blight.”

His words hang in the air.

“So who do we have in the city to count on?” Luk asks.

Lev sighs, leaning back. “We’ve been on good terms with the Irish through Maura, but we’re gonna need more than that to hold them off.”

I glance over at the folder again, strategizing.

“This marriage alliance with the Italians is becoming more essential by the day. With Stephania, we tie ourselves to the Mancinis, legally and financially. We’re able to shift assets across borders without setting off alarms, and if the Feds are sniffing around, that’s invaluable.”

Yuri leans forward. “This has to be what the attack was about: Preventing this alliance before it happened. And if De la Rosa could take out as many of us and the Mancinis as possible, so much the better.”

Lev straightens up. “Three of ours were killed, and two of the Mancinis. They’ll answer for this attack.”

I go on. “The Mancinis are still connected to Italy in a way that allows them to bring in guns, personnel, money—whatever we might need. Russia and the US aren’t exactly friendly right now, so moving what we need between here and Moscow would get a whole team of Agent Pattersons on our back.”

Elena drums her fingers on the table, a thoughtful expression on her face. “And what do we know about this Christian de la Rosa? Anything more than a name and his preference for unnecessary brutality?”

“Nothing useful,” I reply. “Just rumors and whispers. No one knows what he looks like or where he operates from. He’s like a damn ghost that can make moves underneath everyone’s nose. And, evidently, organize a goddamn alliance.”

Lev scoffs. “Typical. These types always hide until they think they have enough power to strike. But we’ll find him.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll stay hidden,” Elena says, leaning back in her chair. “The moment he steps into our territory, he’s as good as dead. But this guy has made a career out of staying in the shadows.”

Luk raises his glass. “Then we drag him out. We’ve got allies. And with Stephania, we’ll have the Mancinis on our side, too. We take these new alliances seriously, make our mark. Show him he’s messing with the wrong families.”

I lift my glass, nodding. “To making our mark.”

The others raise their glasses, but Elena’s gaze remains sharp, focused. “Remember—this isn’t just about muscle. It’s about brains, about strategy. And De la Rosa’s men are skilled. Colombians, Mexicans, and whoever else he’s got in his pocket are here with a plan.”

A smirk crosses Lev’s face. “And we’ll have a plan, too. A much better one.”

I take a long drink, my mind racing. “We start with the Mancinis. I marry Stephania and get that process in motion.”

“And if things heat up,” Elena adds, “we can use the Mancinis’ legitimate businesses as cover.

We’ve got our affairs wrapped up in Ivanov Holdings, which is where we want it.

But Holdings is like a giant ship—slow to turn.

The Mancinis are more spread out across smaller businesses.

None of them makes quite the footprint as Holdings, but they’re nimbler. ”

Lev nods toward me and speaks. “Alexei, I know you’re committed to helping the family, but this is your life.

It’s a huge sacrifice, and if you wanted to get out of it, now’s the time.

After what happened at the party, it’d be easy to come up with some kind of excuse to pull out, say that things are too chaotic for a wedding right now. ”

I shake my head. “We’re about to go to war, and the Mancinis need us just as much as we need them. More, if anything. We Ivanovs are the biggest game in town. That means if we fall, the cartels can pick off the rest of the families in this city at their pleasure.”

Elena smiles. “Family first. Always. It’s commendable.”

The conversation lulls for a moment, her words hanging in the air.

This union isn’t a game. It’s about survival, about protecting everything we’ve built. And if that means marrying into a family I never planned to, so be it. Sure, the rest of my family might’ve married for love, but that appears not to be in the cards for me.

All the same, the image of Isabella flashes in my mind. She almost died last night—only luck, and my skills, kept her alive. I’m going to protect her, her and her cousin.

Elena clears her throat, breaking the silence.

“Alright, then. I’ll keep digging and see if I can pull up any info on De la Rosa. Maybe a financial trail, something he missed.”

Yuri leans forward. “Where’s Gregori in all this?”

“He’s pounding the pavement right now, shaking down contacts for info. He’ll be back to report before too long. Why, you miss him?”

Yuri laughs. “Let’s not go that far.”

She grins briefly before her expression turns grim. “Just keep in mind that if you think this is going to be easy, you’re dead wrong. De la Rosa didn’t come here to lose.”

“No,” I say, setting my glass down firmly, “but we’re not planning to lose either. He can bring all the firepower he wants. We’ll be ready.”

Lev and Luk exchange glances, their expressions determined.

I go on. “Whatever De la Rosa thinks he’s bringing to Chicago, he’s about to find out just how far we’re willing to go to protect what’s ours.”

And with the Mancinis on our side, we’re in a position to hit back harder than ever before.

It’s just a matter of marrying a woman I don’t love.

And forgetting the one I can’t stop thinking about.