Page 103 of The Boss

As the don.

•••••

The pressurization of the doorknob wakes me right before it opens. I’m sitting on the floor with my back against the wall and Marlon in my lap. I didn’t use the blanket or the pillow. It’s not six months in the wilderness but I feel like Quinn would—

Wait, I don’t care about impressing him. He’s a traitor.

“Luna Mancini,” says Vadim Volotov, Vix’s oldest brother and the first heir to the Russian empire that runs New York and the rest of the north east. Vix walks in behind him. He’s like a tall, manly version of her but where she’s alluring he’s more…terrifying. His vibe is like a serial killer. It’s like he’s more of a Skulls Quinn than Van…

Damn it! Stop thinking about him!

“So, you want to play boss, eh?” He says, his accent much thicker than his sister’s.

“No playing about it.”

“You want to kill your papa?”

I shrug, “He killed my mother.”

“Ah,” he says. It’s fucking tragic how unsurprising the information is. This is the world we were born into. Though I think the Volotov children still have their mother. I’m not totally sure.

“And I will help you with this why?”

“Because I know something you don’t.”

He crosses to sit in the chair. I haven’t moved. I don’t love being beneath him but I’m not about to reveal that it bothers me. I am unbotherable. I am a don.

“So my sister says. She seems to trust you. I do not.”

“Fine, kill me then. But I know about the Long Island Sound,” I bluff. I don’t look up from where my hand is oh-so-casually petting Marlon.

“Fuck off. There’s no way you know about that,” he spits. I don’t respond. “Fucking Quinn, the big stupid ape. We should have hunted him and killed him like the wild boar he is.” My entire being bristles at what he’s saying and how he’s saying it. But I stay frozen. “Four years we’ve moved product in the magazines and you’ve been married what, a few weeks?”

“Vadim,” Vix scolds.

Product in magazines? What the hell? I didn’t read anything about that. I’m not even sure what that means. Magazines in the weapons?What?

“Well then, Vaddy boy, don’t get married. Pillow talk kills.” I say, hopefully hiding my surprise at whatever he’s talking about. I go on, “I’m telling you. You want to know what I know. And you’ll learn it all, the same moment your father does.”

The two bicker in Russian. I should’ve learned the other languages instead of focusing so much on my own family and weapons and combat.

Vad cuts his sister off and locks his ice blue eyes back on me to say with practiced calm, “You still haven’t convinced me, little Mancini.”

“You know why you couldn’t find a needle or a damn haystack at Quinn’s place?” I ask Vix. “Because it’s all underground.”

“Not possible. For us to have missed the heat signatures it would have to be—”

“Really fucking deep under the house. Like take a tunnel and stairs and then a hidden elevator kind of deep. And I know how to get to it. All their computers, weapons, everything.”

More Russian arguing.

“Fuck, this is going to be fun!” Vad says, standing. Visibly excited. His sister, on the other hand, is a vault. “I shot him, you know. Only got him in the side though, shifty bastard. And I hate going in with masks, can’t see for shit. Big as he is, he’s fucking fast.” My pulse skyrockets.He shot Quinn.

“Too bad you couldn’t take him out for me,” I stand. “Shall we get out of this tiny box? I can’t breathe in here,” I say, meaning it. I put Marlon in my backpack and zip it partially so Marlon can see out.

“Sure, sure, we have a safe house for you. Has grass for the pup too,” Vad says. “Cormac was also fast. Bunch of shifty fuckers, the Irish. Next time, though, I’ll take out more than just the old aunt, eh? We can shoot them together.”

The aunt.