Page 5 of The Russian Retribution (New York Criminal Empire #2)

5

ERIK

“ I want people on the roof. Every roof, you hear me, Ryan?”

“I love it when you get all assertive, Erik,” Ryan replies, wiggling his shoulders at me on the screen.

“Gets me all tingly.”

“Fuck off. This is serious.”

“I get that. Changing your whole security plan for the gala? Care to share why?”

“Not right now.” I drag another spreadsheet into our shared folder and watch the upload circle spin.

“I’ve listed all the high rises along the route and I want men on each one. I don’t care how much it will cost, understand?”

“On it, Boss.” Ryan looks like he has more to say but as his mouth opens, the door to my makeshift office swings open and in strides Viktor.

I should request my own office in the manor, but it’s just easier for me to work out of the lounge.

I end the call with Ryan in one click and straighten up from the table.

“Viktor.”

“Gala plans?” Viktor asks when he approaches my table.

“You’re taking this seriously.”

“It’s my job,” I reply, adjusting some of the blueprints near me.

“Do you want me to run through it with you?”

“I don’t care. The gala is three months away. I want Anastasia dealt with by then, so who knows if we'll make it that far?” Viktor fixes me with a piercing stare. “Tell me, how are things going with her? Do you have what I need?”

My heart skips a beat.

Anastasia.

She might be my boss, but Viktor has been a father figure in my life for as long as I can remember and that’s where my loyalty lies. He was there for me when my parents died and when my sister was taken from me. He paid for my schooling and even supported my brief stint in the military despite his preference for me to work for the Bratva. He’s my only family in the world, not that anyone knows. Viktor’s worked hard to be where he is, and he keeps his private life exactly that.

Private.

But the death of our Pakhan , Sergey, hit him like a ton of steel bricks. So when he asked for my help, I was more than happy to oblige. The only problem was that his request for me to get close to Anastasia was hindered by the woman herself.

Until now.

“She’s warming to me,” I say, picking a pen from the table and weaving it around my fingers. “Ever since the explosion a couple of weeks ago, I’ve barely left her side, and she’s starting to talk to me. Which, by the way…” I squint at Viktor as he paces away from me toward the bar at the far end of the room. “Was that you?”

“Was what me?”

“You know what.” Abandoning the pen, I hurry to where he’s pouring himself a drink so I don’t have to raise my voice. The last thing we need is someone overhearing. “The car explosion. Was that you?”

“What do you take me for?” Viktor gathers a handful of ice and crushes it into his glass. “I told you. I have no plans to kill Anastasia unless your investigation reveals that my suspicions are correct and that she did indeed kill her father. It doesn’t benefit me to kill her before then.” His face tightens, and his lips press so firmly together that his mouth all but vanishes from his face.

“Sorry. I had to ask.” Given his determination to find out the truth, I did suspect Viktor was briefly behind the attempt on her life. While Anastasia has been swamped with leading the family, Viktor has put most of his efforts into finding out who assassinated Sergey, and all of his suspicions direct him toward our new Godmother.

I can’t say I blame him. Viktor and Sergey were friends for decades. Their bond went beyond Pakan and underboss, and anyone with eyes can see how hard his death hit him. In all my years, I’ve never known Viktor to be an angry man.

Until now.

“You think I would show my hand so early?” Viktor flashes me a cold look that makes my stomach twist. “You think I don’t know how this world works? Anastasia may have gotten away with killing her father with no repercussions, but I will do things properly. With proof and court.”

“I’m sorry.” Leaning against the bar, I take over preparing Viktor’s drink. “I didn’t mean it like that. We haven’t talked in a while, so I didn’t know where your head was at. It’s taken me a long time to even get close to her.”

“Too long, my boy,” Viktor replies, his face softening as he stares at me. “I know you are trying your best. I appreciate you, Son.”

A warm sensation ignites beneath my ribcage as I pour the last drop and slide the drink toward Viktor. “I will find out the truth. If she is guilty, I will find out.”

“I know.” Viktor picks up the glass. “And I know she is.”

My head tilts. “But if she isn’t, then we need to focus elsewhere because every day we waste chasing this lead is a day the real killer gets further away from us.”

Viktor’s face hardens immediately. “You doubting me, boy?”

A pit opens in my stomach as I shake my head. “No, sir.”

“Good. I’m telling you that the entire night was suspicious. She might not have drawn the blade, but I know it’s her fault. Somehow .”

My stomach tightens. Viktor’s pain and anger are fueled, in part, by his distaste at having a Godmother standing in the place his friend used to be. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if he’s being misled. Anastasia is easy to blame because she was present the night her father died, but other than that, the evidence against her is minimal.

At least until I can find out more.

“I know,” I say after a moment of silence. “I’m in her inner circle now and she’s trusting me. At least enough to keep her safe. It’s a start.”

“Well, don’t be fooled by her,” Viktor murmurs. “She’s a sly one and we don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?” pipes up a softer voice.

Viktor doesn’t move, but I turn quickly to see Faina making her way into the room and catching the tail end of the conversation.

“Gala changes,” I explain smoothly. “Since the gala is pretty much set in stone, the only options I have are changing everything about the lead up and the journey.”

“And that makes Anastasia sly?” Faina asks sharply, her eyes narrowing.

“Perhaps savvy is a better word,” Viktor says, slowly turning away from the bar. “You know how women are.”

Faina rolls her eyes and keeps her attention on me. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Why is Ryan calling me asking for fifteen extra snipers? Did you receive some sort of threat about the gala?”

“Not exactly.” With a wave of one hand, I usher Faina back to the table where I was working. “After what happened a few weeks ago, I want to switch things up. I mean, really switch things up. All old routines and plans are scrapped. I have four new routes that I’m working on, but I want all of them watched and then on the day, the one we take will be determined by a coin flip.”

“You’re putting the Godmother’s safety in the hands of a coin flip?” Faina’s tone drips with sarcasm and her eyes narrow into a glare. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s the only way to ensure no one knows what route we’re taking until the day. Having every route covered means we don’t need to rush to make changes if something happens. So yes, I want every rooftop covered. I want men in the subway, I want every cop we control on each corner, and I want an overhead helicopter that will be armed to the teeth should we need it.”

Faina studies the blueprints and sheets in front of her, sucking on her teeth as she processes everything I present. “Fine,” she says eventually. “I’ll see what I can do.” As she straightens up, her eyes dart between me and Viktor. Her face is unreadable but there’s a glint of suspicion in her eyes. “You shouldn’t be drinking this early, Viktor. You’ve got a call with Japan in an hour.”

Faina turns on her heel and strides out of the room. Viktor glares after her and then finishes his glass in one single gulp. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Viktor,” I warn. “My investigation can only work if you keep control of yourself. The last thing we need is for someone to get suspicious.”

“It’s not me who looks suspicious,” Viktor mutters. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“If you get caught, we might never learn the truth about what happened that night. And if you delay this any longer, Anastasia could destroy everything. She’s dismantling everything her father ever built, and for what? Some broken moral compass?”

This is where we differ.

Where we have always differed. As a teen, learning that human traffickers had snatched my sister was a hard pill to swallow knowing that the entire Remizova empire was built on precisely that. Learning that was also the real reason I threw myself into the military, unable to cope with knowing I now worked in the business that killed my sister. But Viktor made some good points and kept me away from most of that work. He raised me, paid for my schooling and my healthcare. He’s taken care of me.

I can overlook the family business, and I have no qualms about Anastasia doing everything she can to end it.

“She has her own plans and her own vision,” I say quietly. “You talk like you know for a fact that she’s guilty. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No.”

“Because if there is, it could end this investigation right here. We can take it to the families and have her ousted for her crime.”

“No,” Viktor mutters, slamming his glass down. “I have no proof.”

Viktor lifts his eyes to meet mine. His stare is hard and cold, but he has no rebuttal. Grief and anger drive him, but one thing is clear.

With Anastasia in charge, the skin trade is a thing of the past for us.

“Then you have to trust me. I will find out who killed Sergey, no matter the cost, and I will ensure they see justice. But you have to prepare yourself for the chance that she had nothing to do with it and this new direction for the family is our future.”