Page 72 of Savage Hearts

There’s a long silence as she listens. Then she blurts, “Oh my god! No! Sloane, I’m so sorry!”

It’s Sloane. Of fucking course it is. And I can already tell that whatever it is she’s telling Nat is some giant clusterfuck I’ll have to get involved in.

I should’ve thrown that goddamn phone out the window when I had the chance.

Nat listens for a few moments longer, then says urgently, “Absolutely! Put him on right now! I’ll put Kage on, too.”

She rolls over, thrusts the phone at me, and demands, “You need to talk to Declan.”

I turn my head on the pillow and look at her. My voice flat, I say, “Natalie.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Kage! This is important! Sloane’s little sister was kidnapped by some Russian assassin named Malek, and she got shot in the process. We have to help find her!”

That son of a bitch.

I sit up and grab the phone from her hand. Into it, I bark, “Start talking, asshole.”

“Fuck you, too, you worthless piece of shite. Did you have anything to do with this?”

“I don’t even know whatthisis.”

“No? You have lots of rogue players on your team? Because I was under the impression you were the big Bratva boss. And if you are, you should know exactly what the fuck is happening on your turf. Or have I overestimated your power?”

That last part is said with so much contempt, my vision goes red.

It’s his blood I’m seeing. And his dead body right in the middle of a big pool of it.

“Just get to the fucking point, Irish.”

“Malek Antonov. You familiar with the name?”

“Yes. He’s not under my jurisdiction.”

Declan shouts, “This whole bloody country is your bloody jurisdiction, you bloody twat!”

I close my eyes and breathe slowly through my nose. I count to ten. When I open my eyes, Natalie is pacing naked back and forth at the end of the bed, chewing on her thumbnail.

That she’s so worried is the only reason I don’t hang up. Keeping my tone tightly controlled, I say, “He’s out of Moscow. You know as well as I do that the old country has their own chain of command.”

“Not with us, it doesn’t.”

“We were around long before the Mob was even conceived. Russia is more than two hundred times bigger than Ireland. Things are more complicated.”

“Bollocks.”

“Okay. Good talk. Fuck off into the sea, Irish.” Glowering, I hold the phone out to Nat. “Take this away from me before I break it.”

She glowers right back at me, squaring off to fold her arms over her chest. “Finish the conversation, Kazimir.”

Fuck. She’s calling me by my real name.

The only time she ever calls me by my real name is if I’m in trouble with her.

Seething, I put the phone back to my ear. “What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me where I can find him.”

“No idea.”