Page 43 of The Bratva’s Captive Flame

"Who did those men answer to?" I say, already half sure of the answer.

"They answered to me, and through me they answered to you," Mishka answers coldly. "And lately, on the security side, they answered to Sergei, who asked for the full storage map his second day here. He said he couldn't lock down what he couldn't see."

My eyes drift again, this time watching as the crews bring a stretcher over to haul Rydon away. A leak in Madrid I could almost write off as one job, a loose mouth and maybe some bad luck. But a leak here isn't bad luck at all. It's a person close enough to see all of it, and that list of people is short.

It strikes me that Sergei isn't here, when he's the one I'd want walking this ground with me, the man I brought in for exactly this. He's off somewhere else doing God only knows what, when he should be putting these strings together for me.

"Where's Sergei tonight?" I ask, looking around the building one last time as my mind spins.

"He said he was running down a lead on the driver he flagged for us," Mishka answers with a roll of his shoulders. "He's been hard to put a finger on the last day or two, in and out at odd hours, and I figured that was just the work."

"Maybe that is all it is." I look back down at the body. "When he surfaces, I want to know what he's actually found immediately. I'm sick of playing catch up. We should've seen this coming."

"Yeah, Boss," Mishka mumbles as we walk away from the body, letting the crews do their work. "You're right. We can't be on the defensive in this. Solano will think we're weak… And Sebastian will have our heads."

He's not wrong. I will make the call when I get back to my house, but Sebastian must be told. Losing three men, when one of them may well be one of our traitors, is a big problem. We have to deal with this directly and we have to do it now.

"Get every man together," I tell Mishka as I climb in and pull the car door shut. "Tonight, all of them. We've sat back and let these assholes make a mockery of us. We do it a third time, and every man who works for me starts wondering if the Roshin Bratva's gone soft. A soft house gets eaten." I look out at the black wreck of the warehouse one last time as we pull away. "We'll hit back hard enough that the next time they think about my city, they remember who owns it and how much it cost them to visit here."

23

ISABELA

Demin's men are still filing out when I come down to the office, brushing past me in the hall without a word. Judging by the looks on their faces, this was a serious meeting with a lot riding on it. I wait until the last one is gone before I step through the door, timid but not afraid anymore. They stopped locking my door days ago, and I've had free roam of the house, but the only place I come is here. Where he is.

It's late again. I gave up on sleep an hour ago. The bed's gotten strange to me when he isn't in it. It feels cold and empty, and I end up feeling alone. My pull toward this man is stronger than ever, and I'm finding myself missing him when he's delayed or absent.

Demin's behind the desk with his sleeves pushed up and a bottle in front of him. He looks up when I come in, but the hard expression of deep thought flits away when his eyes meet mine.

"You should be asleep," he says, but not gruffly. His tone is softer, more compassionate. Something changed between us when he possessed me after scaring that awful man away. I have a new respect for him, and he seems to have a stronger desire for me too.

"I couldn't." I stop in front of the desk. "The house is loud when you've got men coming and going at this hour." I won't tell him the real reason, that I miss him and want to be held. He may respond favorably to it, even be pleased by it, but if I do that, I'm not staying true to myself. He probably expects me to be defiant and have a hard edge about me, but sometimes, being soft is all I can muster.

"Sit, then." He pulls a second glass from a drawer and pours two fingers into each. "Drink with me. It'll help you sleep when we go upstairs."

As I take the chair across from him he slides the glass over. There's a flicker of amusement as I take a sniff of it and scowl. "It's not tequila," I say.

"No. It's better."

"It's really not." I grin, and he chuckles as I sip it. The drink is disgusting, and it burns going down. But I'm sure the swirl of alcohol will suck me in and help me sleep just as he said.

He leans back in his chair with his own glass in hand and tired eyes studying me. I've heard all the rumors and murmuring. After the warehouse fire, he brushed me off, so I didn't probe, but I have questions now. I'm not foolish enough to think one attack is all Javier Solano has planned. And looking into Demin's eyes, I can tell he knows it too.

"Bad night?" I ask.

"Long month." He sips his drink and sighs, relaxing his shoulders. "The Cartel hasn't stopped, Isabela. They've decided I cost them a thing they can't replace, and now they're going to keep coming until one of us can't anymore."

I swallow hard around a lump forming, pushing away the feeling of guilt. My fight for freedom has gotten to the point it's costing others far more than I ever hoped for. My father is safer now, but not whole, and all of this fighting and attacking is the ripple effect.

"How bad is it getting?" I ask him, finishing the drink and then dropping my head to stare at the empty glass in my hand, nestled into my lap. If only there had been a way to get my father away from Solano without letting Solano know who did it. None of this would have to happen.

"It's not good…" He downs his drink too and then leans forward, making his chair squeak. It forces my eyes up to meet his. "It's quickly become war between our families and unless we put them in their place, they will always shadow us."

"Because of Papa?" I wince as I ask it, but I know the answer.

"Because of your father." Demin doesn't bother trying to assuage my guilt or soften his response. I can appreciate that about him, that he's frank and direct. I'm not a child. I don’t need coddled. "A chemist like him doesn't come along often, Milaya. Solano knows what it means that I have him, and he's not the kind of man who lets a thing like that go quietly. He'll burn half of Berlin if he has to, to stop me from having Octavio… even if he never gets the man back."

"And you'd rather burn the other half than give him back."