Page 29 of Sergei

And if I don’t get there tonight. I’ll get there tomorrow.

Viktor:

I leave for the Cayman’s in the morning.

Me:

I know.

Did you get with Jenson?

Viktor:

Everything is set up.

Me:

A lot is riding on those new accounts.

Let me know if you have any trouble.

Viktor:

I won’t.

Me:

But if you do.

Viktor:

You’ll be the first to know.

I expect a conversation when I return.

Me:

Understood.

Now fuck off.

I staredat my response for a moment, and it took all I had not to throw my phone across the fucking room. My brother had a way of making the simplest of things feel like a chain around my neck. I let out a breath and took another drink of coffee. I barely had a chance to swallow when my phone rang.

This time it was my mother. As soon as I answered, she said, “Moya isn’t doing so well.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“The vet thinks it’s colic. He’s treating her, but it’s not looking good.” She let out a defeated breath. “I’m sorry. I know you’re busy with work and everything, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’m on my way.”

I shoved my phone into my pocket and stood there for a moment, just staring at the kitchen counter. It was only fucking Tuesday, and it had already been a hell of a week. The warnings about the bratva wanting a bigger bite of the casino, the ordeal with Alina, and all that it brought along with it. Preacher. Conrad. Mother. And Moya was just one more piece of my world fraying at the edges.

The weight of it all was almost too much to bear, but it was nothing new. I always carried one burden or another.

But this felt different.

This felt like the walls were closing in on me, and no matter which way I turned, something or someone I cared about was going to suffer for it. And I wasn’t sure I had it in me to stop it. Any of it.