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Konstantin crossed one leg over the other and leaned back on the mesh chair he’d sat on. “Cillian Moore.”
“Cillian Moore,” Lev echoed. “That arrogant asshole. How did he know when to attack? An insider must’ve given him information on where I would be.”
Cillian was the head of the Irish mafia. He’d been a loyal dog to Dostoevsky, always at his beck and call. It truly wasn’t surprising that Cillian would pull a reckless stunt like he did. In fact, Lev’s older brother and head of the Bratva had been expecting an attack since he defeated Dostoevsky a year ago.
But what happened last night was too sudden and too neat to be a coincidence. Someone must’ve helped him.
“You’re right,” Konstantin inclined. “Someone helped him.”
Rage flared in Lev’s chest. Who would dare cross him like that? Traitors existed in their world, but only a fool would do something as self-destructive as betraying him.
“I checked and found out Cillian bought Darnell’s Event Planning agency anonymously,” he said. “Looks like someone helped him. Someone who knew where you were going to be and at what exact time.”
Lev’s fist clenched, his heartbeat tripping as he boiled with fury. That bastard had been quiet all along because he was planning his next move. Lev had known, but he hadn’t expected it to be so sudden or while he was unprepared.
He had to admit it, Cillian got him good, but that was going to be the last time. He had to prepare, and he had to hunt that Irish bastard down like a fucking animal.
“Where’s the manager of Darnell’s planning?” he asked. “If there’s anyone else who would be so bold, it had to be him.”
“He snuck out of the country last night.” Konstantin’s voice was gruff and laced with fury. “Cillian was quicker than us this time.”
“We have to be quicker from now on.” Lev sat on top of his worktable and thought for a while. “I’m getting married tonight. Our hunt begins after.”
Konstantin shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re fucking kidding me, aren’t you?”
“I love to joke, Man. But not with thins as serious as marriage.” Lev didn’t care about Konstantin’s approval. He worked for him, not the other way around.
“There’s one more person you’re not suspecting,” Konstantin said, nodding toward the door. “That girl. Has it occurred to you that all of this is a setup? She’s the assistant manager at Darnell’s planning. This could be a trap, and you’re falling into it.”
“It could be, but it’s not.” Lev was sure of that. His intuition told him so, and he always trusted his intuition. That was how he’d made all the right decisions he’d made so far, and ignoring it was the only reason Cillian’s attack worked last night. “She almost died. No one tests their own death to prove a point.”
Konstantin shook his head. “How the hell did you grow up in the mafia when you’re so naïve, Lev?”
“Call me naïve one more time, and I’ll show you exactly how naïve I am.”
If Konstantin weren’t his closest friend and soldier, he’d be dead for even spilling such insults at Lev. One thing he would never do was allow anyone to talk to him in that manner unless it was Mikhail. Ranks and respect mattered in the Bratva. And the only way to earn respect was to inflict fear. A man who was not feared in their world was a nobody.
And Lev was not a nobody.
He was a Nikolai—son of the former head of the Bratva and brother of the current head of the Bratva.
“ThePakhanwill never allow this,” Konstantin said. It was something Lev considered his final attempt at trying to change his mind. “He’ll never give you the permission to do this.”
“That is why no one will tell him until I’m married. He’s my brother; I’ll handle him after that.”
Konstantin’s brows creased with worry. “You’ve really lost your mind.”
A smug smile played on Lev’s lips. “I was born a madman. Don’t expect me to be normal. The wedding is happening tonight—arrange for a priest.”
“And her? Does she want this marriage?”
Lev tilted his head. “It doesn’t matter what she wants. I have the final say in this.”
Konstantin looked like he might argue some more, but he nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll arrange for the priest.”
“One more thing, get some men to fix up the mess at the club. Close it down until the damages have been fixed,” Lev ordered.
Cillian would pay for every single penny spent on fixing that club whether he wanted to or not. Lev was going to make sure of it. No one messed with him and got away with it.
