AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Prologue
I was pissed.
Really fucking pissed.
As I watched Liev cut off our new friend’s fingers, I was pissed that our newest guest was fucking British. Almost two fucking years later, we were no closer to finding out who Klive Simpson was, and part of that was due to his little gang comprising of all kinds of different nationalities and ethnicities. Klive Simpson had put himself together a hodgepodge of petty criminals, and that had made it more difficult to track him down.
At any rate, between what the Sartoris and O’Briens had managed to accomplish, by my count, there were only two people left in Simpson’s little entourage, and that was his right-hand man, Louie Manziel, and Klive Simpson himself. Nevertheless, the facts that we had managed to uncover pointed to a more personal tie to Simpson being in Port Townsend, and that tie was us, the Kotovs. Only no one knew what Klive’s agenda was, and the more that he evaded me, the more pissed off I became.
“Nichego,” Damir said, shaking his head.
I watched in silence, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. Nothing was exactly what we were getting from Thomas Westwood, and considering that Damir was second to Maksim as far as the skill of torture was concerned, Thomas Westwood wasn’t telling us anything more because there wasn’t anything left to tell. He’d already told us everything that he knew, which wasn’t enough to find Klive.
“I think we have enough to find Louie Manziel,” Melor remarked, always the optimist, something that no one would ever suspect by just looking at him.
“I want Klive Simpson,” I stated unnecessarily.
“Bratok, we all do,” Akim chimed in, and even though he wasn’t my brother by blood, we were brothers by loyalty. “But this dura is finished.”
As much as I agreed with him that Thomas Westwood was a fool, with every day that Klive Simpson still took in oxygen, I was beginning to feel like one as well, and that didn’t sit well with me. Something close and personal was coming for us, and I did not enjoy not knowing what it was.
“I say that we concentrate on finding Manziel,” Maksim suggested. “This one is just another pawn, a mere puppet.”
“Otlichno,” I said, even though things were definitely not fine. “Let’s put our boots to the floor to find Manziel.”
“I’ll finish this one off, then get everything cleaned up,” Damir added. “He’s already done for anyway.”
“Louie Manziel is not to be killed, if possible,” I ordered. “I want answers, and he’s the last person alive to be able to give them to me.”
Maksim let out a humorless snort. “You say that like he’s going to come willingly, Pakhan.”
“Perhaps not,” I agreed. “However, as your Pakhan, I expect my orders to be carried out as reasonably as possible.”
“Otets will want an update on the situation,” Melor commented conversationally.
Father.
Our father liked to believe that he still had a say in how we ran the bratva, but he didn’t. Honestly, the only reason that he kept peacocking was because he was still trying to impress my mother. After decades of betraying her with other women, now that she no longer held anymore affection for him, he was doing his best to undo the past, something that he would never be able to do.
“I’ll handle Otets,” I told him. “Since Klive and his men had been nothing but a nuisance so far, there was no need for him to be concerned.”
As Damir went back to sending Thomas Westwood into the afterlife, I turned to leave the warehouse, and I knew without having to look back that the footsteps echoing mine belonged to Maksim. There wasn’t a man more loyal than Maksim Barychev, and I was lucky to call him a bratok, and the man was also a Vor, a positioned well-deserved.
“Manziel isn’t going to come quietly, Avgust,” he said, voicing his disagreement with my order in private, respecting my position in the bratva, no matter Maksim’s level of intelligence.
“I know,” I replied as we walked outside towards our respective vehicles. “But we need answers.”
“We’ll do our best, Pakhan,” he promised.
Since I’d kill any of my men that didn’t always do their best, that wasn’t a concern.
Chapter 1
Avgust~
As I stared out into the city’s skyline, I couldn’t help but wonder about the future of the bratva. Two years ago, the Sartoris had started getting married and having babies, and only a few months ago, the O’Briens began starting their own families. The other two crime syndicates in Port Townsend were already working on their next generation of leaders, and I could barely stand a woman long enough for her to put her clothes back on before leaving the hotel room.
The city’s lights twinkled bright enough that I could see them from the balcony of my bedroom, and even as far away from town as my home sat, the bright neon lights of the night reached my eyes. While many people only saw autumn postcards of Maryland, there was an entire underworld that existed inside the state, and thanks to New York and New Jersey being so close, crime was very prevalent here, more so in Port Townsend.
