Page 38 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)

Clearly Vanessa got a lot accomplished during my flight back to Toronto, because once I land, a black town car waits for me—one that isn’t mine.

A man in a black suit, sunglasses, and with zero emotion stands beside it. “Mr. Corsetti has requested your presence. I will be taking you to see him.”

Brushing my hands against the guns I’ve recently re-strapped to my holsters after leaving the plane, they grant me security against whatever’s coming. I could only hope it’ll be productive and not bloody, and that Nico Corsetti will hear me out.

I slide into the car, and the driver brings me downtown Toronto, only blocks away from Katya’s apartment. Somehow, that makes this feel worse. He pulls up to a nightclub, closed for business considering it’s midafternoon.

“Door’s unlocked,” he says from the front seat. “Go on in.”

I do, bracing for what’s inside.

The lights are bright, making an otherwise mystic atmosphere plain and transparent, which highlights the two men sitting at a table on the far side of the room. Both in suits, though one looks like it’s seen better days. Both with a beer in front of them, and a third unopened across from them.

The nearest one looks up at my entrance, and I’m faced with Nico Corsetti, Boss of the Montreal Mafia.

“Bonjour.” He gestures to the only empty seat at the table. “Saved you a seat and a drink.”

The man beside him glances up from his phone, his smile lazy, but the look in his eyes as cold and deadly as Nico’s. The men share the same hair, eyes, and similar facial features, suggesting they’re related.

As I sit, Nico introduces himself and then gestures to his companion. “My brother, Rafael.”

“Ignore me. I’m only here because my pregnant wife is craving a certain restaurant in the city, and if I have any hope of a peaceful sleep tonight, the food is required.”

Nico rolls his eyes before focusing on me. “Seems we have some mutual friends. It’s up to you to tell me if I will be thanking them or not.”

“You’re kind to meet me so far from your home.”

Nico shrugs, tapping his finger against his bottle. “It’s wise to check out our other properties now and again.” He lifts the same finger to point to the unopened bottle in front of me. “Feel free. It’s a local brew. Quite delicious.”

Beer isn’t exactly what I’m wanting, not while I should be completely focused on finding my father. Since refusing might be seen as an insult, I pop the bottle using the edge of the table and take my first sip beneath both Corsettis’ watchful gazes.

“Bien.” The French term rolls off his tongue. “What can I do for the Bratva?”

“My Pakhan and the Bratva aren’t involved. Whatever deal we strike is with me alone. Non-negotiable.”

The brothers share a quick glance before Nico tips his head. “I’m intrigued. Continue.”

“My father is hiding somewhere in the city, I believe, unless he’s escaped within the last two days. You have connections to the kind of people he’d be using to hide, so I’d like your assistance in finding him.”

Nico frowns. “Fathers are a pain in the ass, but what has yours done to warrant such a manhunt?”

“Does it matter?” A rival mob doesn’t need to know the specifics of Bratva business, especially when Katya’s involved.

“It does if you want my help. Consider me interested.”

Gritting my teeth, I feed him as little information as I can, hoping he accepts. “He’s harmed people I care about. My girl. My cousin. My organization. Therefore, he’s an enemy to the Bratva, and one that must be put down.”

Rafael snorts before taking a few swigs from his bottle. “Sounds like a piece of work. I’d want him dead too.”

“So you’ll help?”

Nico hums. “Protecting those you care about is admirable.”

Rafael leans into the table, lowering his voice. “He’s not lying. This moron”—he gestures to Nico—“got himself sold out by his wife, before they were even together, to his enemy in exchange for her sister’s freedom. Thus, protecting the one she cared about, and that only made him love her more.”

Nico smacks his brother on the back of his head. “Raf, shut up. Mais oui ”—his attention slides to me—“as my brother so unwisely disclosed, that is a good example. Unfortunately, Mr. Volkov, there’s nothing I want or need that you can offer me.”

I’m not letting this opportunity slip through my fingers. “A future deal then. At a time and place of your choosing. You can request anything.”

Rafael whistles, leaning back, but his brother remains a statue. A statue that only reacts when his brother nudges him.

“That’s a compelling offer,” Nico finally replies in a monotone voice, “and one I’m tempted to accept. I looked you up, Mr. Volkov. You have quite a…particular way of handling business.”

“He means, you kill people with such grace,” Rafael interjects with a sly grin, earning a punch to his ribs.

The paper of the five names, four crossed off, feels heavy in my pocket. They’ve all been local kills, so the fact Corsetti was able to learn about them says a lot about this man’s abilities—which might be worrisome one day.

“You have someone you need gone?”

“No. Not right now, anyway. But perhaps in the future, you might be useful.”

“Deal,” I agree without a beat. Easy deal. A job of his choosing in exchange for assistance is too good to pass up. Especially when every second of this conversation means Ivan might be slipping farther away.

Nico reaches across the table to shake my hand, eyeing the ribbon around my wrist, which doesn’t match the rest of my outfit.

If only he understood what was beneath the ribbon, then he might get it.

“I should warn you, if your father passes the border into the U.S., I won’t be able to get him. That isn’t my territory.”

“Vanessa has requested help from the Famiglia . You might be aware of past complications she and Erico have faced together. I’m sure that was once a conversation between your wife and his own, considering they’re sisters.”

Rafael straightens, his gaze narrowing, and all previous friendliness melts away, but Nico merely smirks.

“The Bratva does their homework. Yes, the Famiglia and I share common interests, so take that as a sign not to piss either one of us off.” He pauses, head tilting slightly.

“With all these bases covered, finding your father must be very important.”

“As I’ve said, he’s fucked with my girl, my Pakhan, and the Bratva. Is there any further reason you’d need if you were in my shoes?”

“Maybe that was my way of asking for the story.”

“It’s not any of your business.”

“You’re making it our business.”

Realistically, he’s doing no less than I would. Before getting involved in a war, I’d want to know all the details.

“Fine. Vanessa took over for her father after Rossi shot him, but given that she’s female, it wasn’t without her own battles.

My father challenged her claim to leadership because he wanted me to take it, and himself as an extension.

He hasn’t respected the way of the Bratva time and time again and betrayed us to our enemies, all to get rid of her.

He’s used the woman I love to continue his sick games. I chose her, he got away. Here we are.”

“Hm.” He taps a finger against his chin. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

Rafael nudges Nico in his ribs. “Leave him alone. Can’t expect a stranger to divulge everything at the first meeting. Your father, what’s his name?”

“Ivan Volkov.”

Nico nods. “I’ll see it done. You can see yourself out.”

With another sip of the locally brewed beer—truthfully, it is tasty—I push away from the table and stride out of the club without a backwards glance.

The final piece is in play.