Page 6 of Surprise Bratva Daddy
“Good,” I mutter, my mind returning through the possible scenarios we might face at this house. “Once we’re there, we move fast. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”
Kiro nods, accelerating as we navigate through the increasingly cluttered streets. It feels like we’re moving out of the city and into regular neighborhoods. “What if they don’t want to hand it over?” he asks.
“Then we make them,” I say coldly. “We use any means necessary to get that flash drive. This isn’t a negotiation, it’s a retrieval.”
Kiro glances at me, and I can see a shimmer of excitement in his eyes. Maybe he misses the old days, the times when we were constantly at odds with my rival, Maksim.
I felt like I had to be young forever when Maksim was still around. I could never sleep with both eyes shut. I always had to have one open and both ears listening for signs of danger. Once or twice, Maksim almost killed me.
We both played that game. I hit him in the leg once, knocking him to the floor, but my gun jammed when I went to finish him off. Karma came knocking for him when he thought he got off the hook, and two weeks later he was in prison.
I might be taking the same sorry route myself if I don’t get this flash drive back. Tema would start a war over it, even though I feel like it’s partially his fault for sending a courier to do the work he should’ve done himself. That flash drive is far too important to send someone who is capable of screwing up the address.
All I can do is hope that things haven’t gotten out of hand as we pull up to the house, a modest one-story brick building with a weed-ridden lawn and a few flowers by the mailbox. It’s the kind of place that screams normalcy, the kind of place where people go about their lives without a clue of the chaos that could invade at any moment.
But it looks as though chaos has already come, because there’s a shiny black sedan parked outside, reeking of luxury in a neighborhood that warrants nothing but middle-class modesty. It doesn’t belong, and that’s the first sign that something is amiss.
But it’s not the last. Not by a mile. I feel it in my bones as we park, and it becomes even worse as I look out the window toward the house. This isn’t Bratva territory, nor is it anywhere that dangerous gangs would lurk, but that doesn’t stop a prickle from hitting the back of my neck and making my hair stand on end.
“This isn’t right,” I mutter to Kiro. “I need you to be very careful.”
“You have a bad feeling?” he asks.
“A very bad one,” I reply, shaking my head. “Something strange is going on, and I don’t like it one bit.”
5
Monroe
Iregret opening the door, but I didn’t want it to be broken down. I thought it might be the police, or maybe some special forces tasked with retrieving top secret information. It’s not. It’s so much worse.
“Search the place. It wasn’t in the box so it must be in here somewhere. Leave me with the girl.”
The man speaking is a tall, thin man in his forties with a gaunt face and eyes that lack the soul of a normal person. They remind me of those historical photos from World War 2, where shellshocked soldiers with piercing eyes stared far past the camera into the great unknown.
He limps when he approaches me, but he’s fast, like he’s used to moving that way. His fingers wrap around my upper arm, pulling me toward him before I can even think about running. There’s a back door to the house, but I’m not going to be able to reach it now. I’m stuck with this monster and his two goons.
He pulls me closer, and I can smell the acrid smoke clinging to his charcoal suit. Even though he’s well-dressed, I know he’s not a good guy. Men in suits rarely are, especially when they try to break down your door.
“Where is the drive?” he asks, shaking me so hard my teeth rattle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“Don’t be cute with me,” he growls, pushing me up against the wall. He uses his entire body to keep me there, a sick smile on his face as he pins me in place. “How did a sweet little woman like you get something like this? How much did they pay you?”
“Please,” I whimper, wishing I could dissolve into the wall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He pulls his hand back like his about to slap me, the gold ring on his pinky promising a word of pain should he follow through.
“It’s on the table. Your guys have probably already found it,” I blurt. “Please, I don’t have anything to do with this.”
“You have everything to do with this,” he insists, pulling me away from the wall and pushing me into the kitchen. “Now, I’d like you to start talking. Tell me everything.”
I stumble into the kitchen, where one of the burly goons is holding the box I tore open to get the flash drive. I look even more guilty, more involved in whatever is going on, by having opened it.
“That wasn’t meant for me,” I say, looking around for a way to escape. A big kitchen knife in the sink calls to me, but it wouldn’t do much good if these men have guns. I doubt they’d come here unarmed.
“Let’s get a name first,” the tall man says, leaning over me and casting a shadow across my face. “Mine is Maksim. Pleased to meet you.”
