Page 91 of Villainous Kingpin

“You know I’m getting blood all over my fucking electronics,” he grumbled as his fingers flew over the screen.

“I’ll buy you another one,” I vowed.

“You complain about blood on your electronics, while you’re soaked in it.” Dante shook his head. “You’re both fucking idiots. You won’t get into my car like that. I have white leather seats.”

We flipped him off without raising our gazes off the screen of Priest’s fancy device.

All the while my heart thundered and the darkness in my vision slowly lifted. This has to be a sign. The name couldn’t be a coincidence. It wasn’t exactly a common name and everyone knew of the Volkov Russian family. Practically Russian mafia royalty.

“Fuck. Me.” Priest’s voice interrupted my thinking and my eyes snapped to his. He flipped over the screen and a picture filled my vision.

I froze, staring at the image of the woman I had been searching for. It was almost identical - same eyes, same curls, same face. The only thing that was different were the freckles on my Wynter’s face.

“Winter Volkov,” Priest rasped. “Winter with an i, rather than y.”

Fuck. Me.

My Wynter was a Russian mafia princess.

CHAPTER34

Basilio

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Dante grumbled, echoing my thoughts exactly. The three of us stayed in my place in the Hamptons. It was easier than going back to the city. After we got cleaned up, we sat on the back patio facing the ocean, pondering on today’s findings.

“Agreed.”

Once upon a time, my father wanted the Volkov Pakhan at the Syndicate table. It didn’t happen. Instead he got a different Russian alliance at the table. A weaker one.

But knowing Father, he held a grudge. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind that either he worked with the Russians to get their dirty paws on my woman or he made up a different story. The one where he’d end up on top.

“What’s his angle?” Priest asked.

“Maybe he recognized Wynter,” I rasped, ice flowing through my veins. “If he knew The Pakhan and his family decades ago, there’s no way he’d miss the resemblance.” My eyes flickered to the screen again. I had never seen two human beings look so alike. “It would explain his hatred for the Brennans.”

“None of this shit makes any sense,” Dante said. “So the old fucker Brennan kidnapped Winter Volkov to keep the Pakhan out of the Syndicate. When the woman died, what would have kept the Pakhan from joining?”

“The grandchild. Aisling Brennan,” I said. Wynter was part of the underworld all along. Yet, there seemed to be so many disconnects. My sixth sense told me she didn’t grow up in the underworld. She couldn’t have. Nothing about her behavior indicated that.

“But all the records point that Aisling Brennan and her unborn child died,” Dante reasoned.

“We know data can be manipulated,” Priest hissed, staring at the pictures. “There’s no way in hell this kind of resemblance was coincidental.”

Russian princess. “They don’t have her,” I concluded. “The fucker said they’re looking for the descendants. That means they didn’t find her.”

“Maybe it’s time we join forces with other organizations,” Dante suggested. “It’s clear the Syndicate is making moves without anyone’s knowledge.”

“Or maybe it’s just my father making those moves.”

I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. He thought himself invincible. The Syndicate was supposed to spread power among different members but my father seemed to conveniently forget that. Or simply ignore it. He used the Syndicate to get what he wanted, at any cost necessary.

“Could this be enough to remove him from the Syndicate?” Priest pondered. “If he made a move without their knowledge, this was a clear attempt to seize power.”

I shook my head. “If Pakhan was a member of the Syndicate, it would have been against the rules. But it's a free-for-all for anyone outside the Syndicate. It’s the loophole that allowed Father to continue his attacks on the Brennans.”

The three of us sat in silence and the waves crashed against the shoreline. I had wanted to bring Wynter here too. There were so many fucking plans I had for us and now-

She had to be alive. If the Russians had her, she was alive. The Pakhan would never harm his great-grandchild. Marry her off, yes. Benefit off her, yes. But the bastard would never kill her.