Page 15

FOURTEEN

Vlad

T here’s going to be dirty fucking fingerprints marring Inessa’s neck tomorrow and the mallet glitters under the light asking for me to pick it back up again. He couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and my punishment for leaving Len to his own devices is going to stare back at me tomorrow.

I don’t give them time to argue and march them out. My biological founders are lucky, the jet that was fueled to go to Sankt Peterburg is more luxury than they deserve, but I’m not torturing myself by fucking accompanying them on their journey. Dima looks down fighting a smile as he holds the door open for me as we leave the house. He hates Len like the rest of us for what he forced him to endure while he was living on the streets, and he purposefully leaves their doors and bag for them to get.

I’m not their fucking maid to open shit for them, especially after he put his fucking hands on my wife. If he didn’t have the one thing that could ruin all my decades of planning in his slimy grip, I’d happily kill the cunt. But I’m not ready yet and he’s added another sin to his long list for when the time is right.

Changing the destination while we drive towards the airfield, anger fills the backseat as Dima can’t hide his joy at Len’s pain.He’s a miserable bastard usually, but I’m sure he’s fucking humming to himself as he looks in the mirror and sees the dressing turning red. I’ve seen him do any number of things, humming is a new one and I let him enjoy himself as I send Grigory a message that I won’t be arriving tonight.

Reaching the airfield with the tumultuous tension swirling around us, I stay seated. I’ve already shown more kindness than they’re due by allowing them to live. I don’t move and neither does Dima as we leave Len and Anika to see themselves out. My laugh is hidden as I scratch my jaw as Dima rolls the window down shouting toward Len.

“Do you need a hand with your bags?” There’s no response and he shrugs turning to me, putting the car in drive, and becoming a sarcastic prick. “Think it was something I said?”

I can finally relax without them fuckers eating away at my thoughts and the confirmation of them taking off has my breathing coming easier. The miserable bastard returns and his observation sounds like an accusation as he drives.

“You care about her.”

There’s no emotion in my voice as I prove otherwise. “No one will disrespect me by putting their hands on my bride.”

I don’t care about Inessa; she’s linked to me. If someone disrespects her, it’s the same as them doing it to me. She won’t weaken what I’ve built and there isn’t a reality to exist where I’d allow anyone else to.

Dropping the topic, he takes the turn towards the safe house we keep and turns serious. “Found the house, there’s five of them and they’ll be moved tomorrow.” I nod and ignore who we’ll find. If I focus on the who I won’t be able to get my residual rage out and my eyes close waiting for the peace to come. It won’t be found in sleep or silence, but blood and screams.It’s the only thing that will allow me peace and my crown touches the headrest as I organize my thoughts to lock them away.

He speeds up and I only drop my head once we’re parked. The house is, for all intents and purposes, a normal home that attracts no attention. The frontage is kept up to date to match the neighboring properties and the only difference is that we own every property on the street between the three of us. I don’t know who comes here every day to make it appear like the street is occupied, but the lights must be on a timer as they all turn off at different times of the day to mimic each individual family routine.

Dima doesn’t speak as he gets out of the car and his entire body is tense, knowing that the worst of the night is about to come. Each step he takes fills him with more anger while I get calmer. He’s my direct opposite and I attempt to get him to calm the fuck down before he makes a stupid mistake.

“Are you upset because you feel like you’re being replaced?”

He pauses and nearly snaps his neck to look at me. His lips twist into a grimace at the reminder of my brothers and his sister continuously giving him shit saying that we’re a couple. He should be honored to think he could ever stand a chance with me. But his grumbling starts as we enter the house through the side door.

“Don’t start that shit. Katya and Vitali still have my number saved as Dad 2, for fuck’s sake.”

Anastasia is already kitted out and ready to leave as we enter. stopping her pacing. The usual coked up socialite is nowhere to be seen as she loosens her muscles and I go to change. After ten years of this shit, I should be desensitized, my mind should shut off and treat it like a job, but it doesn’t. I could go another fifty and I’ll always have the images in my mind and my gut churns with disgust of what I’ve seen.It all floods in as I switch my persona like the other two have.

There’s no suit commanding respect. I look like a shadow with the specialized Vanta black cloth covering every part of my body other than my hands and there are no features that could possibly be seen, even under the harsh lights. Joining the other two, Stasi has stopped pacing and fidgets with anticipation as Dima passes the comms and relays whatever he’s found.

“They’re kept in a room on the second floor, the housekeeper’s bedroom is at the top of the stairs, and you’ll have a twenty-four minute window before reinforcements show up.”

Going through the recon that’s been done so far, I know it won’t take long. There are only four guards on each entry and two in the house, a lot can happen in twenty-four minutes when you’re motivated.

Turning to Stasi, I burst her bubble knowing she won’t like her role for the night.

“You’re driving. The housekeeper is a woman.”

She doesn’t argue, knowing what’s important and we all go silent leaving anything personal in the faraday box and going to the van kept in the adjoining property’s garage.

I sit in the back with Stasi driving and Dima takes the seat opposite me, I tap against my knee as Stasi’s rally driving past life comes out. Under her bullshit socialite image, she’s more dangerous than most of the men in the Bratva, it’s probably the reason she retains the facade so well. Right now, she’s not the same woman who was getting giddy on champagne a few hours ago at my engagement party and she cuts the lights before we reach the turn for the old farmhouse.

The lane is narrow and whoever previously drove down it managed to avoid the overgrowth spilling over the sides. Having an electric van ensures there’s no engine sound alerting anyone of our presence and Stasi stops before hitting any of the overgrowth. There’s a mile to be traveled by foot and she’s ready to reverse and go back to the street as Dima and I jump out.

I’m officially nothing but a void as I pull the mask over my face. The modified ski mask doesn’t have any eye holes. The urge to fuck with Dima and trip him as he passes me lessens as I remind myself of the fuckers inside. If they were halfway intelligent, they’d have thermal detectors instead of relying solely on their sight and cameras.

Stasi’s voice comes through, starting the countdown, when Dima steps on a shrub.

“Twenty-three minutes.”

Leaving him to do what he does best at a distance, I make my way to the back of the property through the overgrowth. It must be at least five feet high, and the rough blades scrape against my clothes. Bayu bayushki is a soft hum in my head, making me calm and focus. It’s all for her, everything I do, and I’ll make it back to her no matter what it takes.

Five guards stand shooting the shit, not caring about their positions and there are no outdoor lights, making my approach too easy. They’ve accepted the ploy of the dead fucks we left at the last house and think they’ve found the culprits.

Or we’ve actually managed to make a dent and they’re too inexperienced and signed up for the benefits without the fight that’s needed.I don’t take risks and get rid of two of them with a shot to the head, the remaining three look around wide eyed. There should be a camera on them to get their reactions, but the earpiece hisses with the time ticking.

“Nineteen minutes.”

The need to not draw attention to themselves and their fuck up has hesitance ending their lives. Dima’s shots are far too close to my ear. He does this shit on purpose to test his aim. And there’s one lucky fucker left too for my rage, so I don’t turn.

“Seventeen minutes.”

Taking a knife in each hand, the steel glistens, giving away my position as he moves closer to the edge of the overgrowth. He’s the biggest out of the bunch of dead fucks and his fingers aren’t tight enough on his weapon as he swings his arm, letting off shots.

“Fifteen minutes.”

I don’t bow and continue walking towards him as I step to the side, and he remains staring out into the overgrowth. It hits me as soon as I’m two steps away, the smell of alcohol, they weren’t inexperienced — they were careless. He chokes as I plunge a carbon blade into his throat and grab his wrist to remove the weapon. I smile, seeing nothing other than fear staring back at me as I twist.

“Twelve minutes.”

It’s not deep enough to kill him straight away and I let myself have two minutes of fun with the other knife. Carving deep slashes into his abdomen, I drag the knife up, feeling my blade hit his ribs, and it’s almost giddiness filling me. This is the closest I’ve ever felt to true peace, and the chuski dies, taking it with him.

Both Dima and I speak at the same time, showing we’re in sync.

“Done.”

There’s no response other than the countdown as Stasi tells us we have ten minutes. The lights are cut off and the dumb bitch inside clearly doesn’t know who she’s dealing with thinking something as small as the dark will stop me. Such a silly thing to do, she must have forgot monsters aren’t afraid of the dark. It’s where they were created and the only place they can call home.

Turning on the night vision, I keep my steps silent moving through the back of the house. I’ve already memorized the layout and could blindly make my way to the staircase. A struggle comes through the earpiece as Dima finds the bitch first and the gurgle has me smiling wider as I stay silent in case they’ve added anyone else in the last twenty-four hours.

Joining me once he’s confirmed there’s no one else, the lights come back with Stasi’s reminder.

“Seven minutes.”

Taking the steps two at a time, my good mood disappears under the weight of what’s behind the blank bedroom door. The first time isn’t the worst, it’s the split second when my hand is on the wood, and I know what I’ll see is going to be haunting.The first time a person’s soul dies they become blank, each time after that they lose more, and it’s replaced with anger or acceptance.

I remove the band off my eyes and make myself smaller, less intimidating, as I push through the door gently. A quick head count shows Dima was right and the pain staring back at me from the mixed group ranging from three to eight has me hardening in anger. Two boys and three girls, all fucking children who have lived through things they shouldn’t.There have been a few instances where they’ve assumed I’m one of the clients and tried to undress, those are the ones that kill the small remnants of my soul.

A boy steps forward protectively guarding the others, they’re not related with each having different coloring giving away their ethnicity and I hold my finger in front of my lips, so he doesn’t say anything. The houses are always bugged with both visual and audio, the sick fuckers in charge want to profit on as much pain as possible.

He’s a kid, barely older than Viktor and I wait until Dima has used the scrambler to lift my mask.

“Five minutes.”

Anastasia’s voice is hardening, she’s getting antsy not knowing what’s going on. I lift the bottom of my mask to show my lips, so they can see something other than the void, and a little girl is filled with curious fear hiding behind the older boy. She doesn’t have blank eyes and I focus on her, selfishly ignoring the others that are in pain while they shut down externally.

Crouching down to my haunches, my voice doesn’t go above a whisper, needing them to move quicker but not wanting to add to their torment.

“We’ve got to be quiet, and I need you to close your eyes for me.”

I should learn new languages to help with communicating with them, but there’s not enough time and the older boy seems to understand.I’ve picked up a few phrases, enough to say stop and no in case they try undressing again, but the market of children is international and there isn’t enough time for me to sit and quiz them to learn their origins or which languages they know.

He moves hesitantly as I hold my hand out.

“You’ll be safe, I promise.”

There’s no trust as he shakes my hand and I’d be a fucking fool to expect him to, but he puts the others at ease.

“Three minutes.”

Fuck, there’s not enough time to coax them out and I know they’re going to scream as Dima and I move closer. It’s never in pain, always fear, but the older boy reassures them, walking ahead as we each pick up two of the kids.

Covering my eyes with my hand they follow the command and squeeze theirs shut. The little girl on my hip is the youngest and still a kid as she hugs me while the boy on my other side stays rigid. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she pushes her cold nose into my ear. Covering the rest of my face as panic infuses Anastasia’s voice, we move.

“Ninety seconds.”

Grabbing the older kid, I keep him against my chest, and he doesn’t try to fight as we rush down the stairs. The lights go out again, making them freeze in my arms. I can’t reassure them knowing my voice will be picked up now we’re out of the room and hold them tighter, doing it physically.

Each little whimper that leaves them stokes my anger and they shake as we get in the van. I do another head count as Dima jumps in and Anastasia peels away. We’ve done this shit countless times, but it still feels like it’s ten years ago and we’re only fueled by anger. Even with the addition of Anastasia into our mix, it’s always the same blank stares and shaking little bodies in front of me.

Taking my mask off when we’re far enough away without anyone coming after us, I turn on the dimmed lights and address the boy stood in front of the four children huddled behind him.

“Do you speak English?”

He nods once and I take my gloves off to give him the respect he deserves. “What’s your name?”

He steps forward with one leg, and he gives me the biggest thing he could, his trust. “Aro.”

He’s too young and witnessed too much, but I still put more on his shoulders, knowing it’s the only way to save him.

“When you’re asked tomorrow, you don’t speak English, and you didn’t see anything.”

Nodding once again, I continue, “You’ll see a lady with blonde hair, nearly white, and she’ll keep you safe. If you need me, you ask for her and I’ll come back.”

Some of his fear goes as the other kids grip his t-shirt not understanding, but he nods again.I lower my voice in an attempt to soften it as I ask him for more, “Do you know any names? Faces?”

He shakes his head and takes a step back as the little girl without blank eyes hugs his leg. She’s cute and has huge green eyes. They fill up her face and make her look like one of the kittens that Viktor is obsessed with watching on his cartoon.

Turning to Dima, I keep my voice low and give the children my back so they can relax as much as they’re able to without any attention on them.

“Take them to Trinity Group Home, send the file addressed to Verelli’s wife, but the contents to Inessa by 10am. Use Carluccio this time, he’s always the quickest.”

He doesn’t say anything and stays in position as the fear in the corner lessens.

Before Inessa created Steorra we had to try to find them homes ourselves and I don’t trust predators not to infiltrate them. I might not feel anything for Inessa, and her mouth is annoying, but she has a code, and her vetting is strict to ensure none of the children in her care are harmed. She’s a do-gooder and gets them therapy, anything they need, while battling everyone she needs to ensure their safety.