Page 20 of Sadistic Retribution (Rise of Phoenyxx #2)

Hunter

I still can’t wrap my mind around the Mafia and Bratva working together. From the little I know, it doesn’t happen. Italians and Russians don’t get along.

It seems there is a hierarchy within the Six.

Synn's family is the most powerful. The others defer to him.

Power-wise, the others are about equal. From what I've uncovered so far, this little group is unknown by other families.

It's a secret for some reason. I have a feeling that if the main branch caught wind of it, they would all be dead.

The main “big bad” is known as the Syndicate. It's a conglomeration of all mob groups, overseen by a group of higher-ups. Italian, Russian, Irish, Chinese.

The Syndicate isn’t hush-hush, plenty people are aware of their existence.

Their reach is global—from the States to the Vatican and beyond.

They have the power to wipe out anyone they want to.

That's why I bet they don’t know about The Six families working together.

That would be seen as open defiance, and would end in bloodshed.

What's their goal? What does Pretty Girl have to do with it? Do the boys know more than they’re letting on?

I dismiss that last thought as soon as it passes through my mind. They wouldn’t hold back anything that would find her.

Thor and Bill are busy typing and reading the screen.

I scoot my chair over, watching what Thor is doing.

He turns his head slightly, addressing me.

“Looking for schematics or addresses attached to any of these family members. Most mob families have multiple safe houses.” He shrugs. “It’s something to check, anyway.”

I groan. “This is taking too fucking long. There’s got to be something to chase—a lead of some kind!”

“Dude...” Bill tosses over his shoulder. “Chill. It takes time.”

“Bill, man. Give him a break. The love of his life is on the line!” Thor argues.

I startle in my seat. “The what?”

Thor lays his hand on mine, patting it. “Bro... we know. It's obvious. Don't worry about it.”

I stand up, shaking my head. “I’m going to find Jax. I need to fuck something up.” Thor makes a shooing motion with his hand as I head out of the room.

Ghost

I know I’ve been isolating, not even responding to the guys’ texts. I just can’t be around anyone when all I want is my Malishka. Every damn thing reminds me of her. I can’t stand looking at my brothers because of it. How have we not found her yet?

I think I’m the one feeling the most guilt after what I did. It was hell getting my damn dick to stand up to pull that off. Ironically, it was a vision of Malishka’s beautiful face that did the trick. Then to stick it in Valley’s mouth?

I shudder, not believing I actually did that. To kill her soul like that. When she hit the floor screaming for us to kill her, I damn near took my blade to my wrist. I will never get that out of my mind.

I'm also turning over in my brain how our fathers knew the timing down to the second. There must be cameras all over. It's the only thing that makes sense. Do the guys know about that possibility? When I can bring myself to go back, I’ll relay it on to Purge.

The thought of them all watching makes my stomach churn.

How much have they seen? The punishments would be worse than death if they knew half the shit we’ve done.

I also want to know why they have such hard-ons for my girl.

She's a nobody—she doesn’t even have a last name.

The way they’ve been acting since she got here doesn’t add up.

Who is she, really? How could she be a threat to the fucking Mafia and Bratva?

I sigh deeply, letting the tears run down my face. No one can see it anyway, as low as my head is dipped. I decide to finally check the text group. But once I scan it over, I almost drop my phone. What the actual fuck?

Clearly, my brothers need me back, so I slowly head to the apartment. I need to talk to Purge and see what’s going on. We have to find a way to get my girl back. Fuck—even if she hates us, she’d at least be safe. With us—where she belongs.

Frost

I can’t believe I found an old chapel deep in the forest, a good five miles from The Retreat. I've checked the whole place up and down and nothing is amiss. No secret rooms or areas, no cameras that I can see.

I'm not religious, but I’m on my knees in front of the old cross on the wall. Praying to a God I sure as hell hope is real to bring Killer back to us, unharmed.

My head is bowed, my lips moving in constant prayer. Tears track my face, dripping onto the old, wooden floor I'm kneeling on.

Why now? To make me feel? And fuck... do I feel! Pain, anguish, nausea, panic, depression, anger, rage... and love. Love for Killer. I'm in fucking love with her.

I have no idea how to handle this emotional vomit. It's hard to breathe with the turmoil raging in my brain. I have no one to talk to who would truly understand. My brothers have always had my back, but they won’t get it.

I scrub a shaky hand over my face, wiping the tears onto my pants. I know I should head back, but I’m scared. Scared we’ll never find her, scared she’ll be seriously injured—scared she’ll hate us forever. How do I explain these feelings to the guys?

I should probably go and tell them everything. They're all I have. Fuck, I love those motherfuckers. They're my real family.

I'm rudely interrupted from my musings by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I take it out, frowning when I see my father is video calling me. This definitely can’t be good.

I shove a hand in my hair, trying to lay it down neatly. I walk outside the chapel so all he will see is the trees, and answer the call. “Yes, Father?”

“I need you to come home for a little while. There's something you need to take care of for me.”

“What? Why? For how long?”

“Son—don’t test me. Just for dinner, suka. My driver will have you back before bedtime.”

My mind whirls. I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with this forced marriage bullshit Synn is going through.

“Fine, I'll meet you outside in fifteen minutes. Does that work?”

“You need to be presentable, so, no—not dressed like that. Thirty minutes, and you’d better be impeccably styled. Understand?”

“Yes, Father,” I grit out.

I force myself to take some deep breaths, then I start the one-mile trek back to the dorm. I’ve got to fill in the guys before I have to leave.

Phoenyxx

Demon is acting weird, even for him. Why did he bring me into 3’s cell?

“You want to be a savior? Here you go.” He almost spits as he talks. “You fucked up in there, Little Bird. You're useless!”

I gape at him in disbelief. “What the hell is your problem, asshat? Why are you so mad?”

He sneers, getting right in my face. “I expected better, 11. You're not the typical patient. You disappoint me.”

“I have no fighting experience, you walking dildo!”

Without another word, he storms out, and my heart rate triples with fear. What's going to happen to me now?

I hear a shuffle and a whimper from behind me. I turn to see 3, scooting out from under his bed. He holds my gaze as he comes closer. His eyes widen when he sees my condition and reaches up to tug on my hand. We both settle on his bed.

I'm happy to see him in clothes, though they’re baggy on his too-skinny frame. He makes a sad sound in his throat, and reaches up to touch the bleeding cut on my face. 3’s eyes turn to steel, and he pats me down all over, checking for other injuries.

“It’s okay, I’m alright,” I attempt to soothe him. He violently shakes head, grabbing both of my hands. He reaches up to tenderly cup my jaw. Oh, this golden-eyed boy. He's breaching my walls, and I can’t afford to let anyone else in. Ever again.

3 wraps his arms around me, trying to console me. Tears prick my eyes. I can’t help but think of the others. Why do I still miss them?

I wipe my eyes with my arm impatiently. He pulls back, looking at my face.

He’s shaking, but he gently kisses the corners of my eyes, then touches his lips to mine again.

I let him, shivering. I’m really scared.

I can’t get my emotions involved with anyone else.

How I feel about 6 is already pushing it.

Dammit, I can’t get attached to him. Losing anyone else would destroy me.

We sit there for what feels like forever, then the lights go out like they do every “night”. I have no idea if it’s even nighttime, but it’s sleep time, anyway.

3 helps me get under the thin blanket, holding me close once we’re settled. I shut my eyes with a sigh. Surprisingly, I feel sleep overtake me quickly. This boy—he comforts me.

Frost

I grabbed the first suit I could find in my closet, pairing it with matching, shiny black dress shoes.

I combed my silver hair back perfectly, and have my neutral, unfeeling mask firmly in place.

My brothers flipped their shit when I told them about this dinner. I’m hoping I can get it over quickly.

I pace the front drive of The Retreat, waiting for my father’s driver to get here. I'm not waiting long when the telltale sound of wheels on pavement reaches my ears.

The fully decked-out black town car pulls up in front of me. The windows are tinted so dark, no one can see in.

The driver’s side door opens, Claude the chauffer stepping out. “Mr. Aslanov, good to see you, Sir. Right this way.”

I nod, allowing him to usher me into the back of the car. The home I grew up in isn’t terribly far from here, but it will take us a while to get there. Especially with Claude driving. He’s to the letter with all driving rules—including staying at exactly the speed limit.

All of our homes are in Milburn, which is a nice part of New Jersey with a lot of beautiful trees and gardens. This time of year is my favorite in Milburn. The crunch of the leaves underfoot is my favorite, but the way the leaves change colors is simply gorgeous.

I hate going home, though. My father is squarely to blame for that. He's such a strict, cruel asshole.