Page 43 of Bratva Menace

Father ignored the car on the right, walking right past the two heavily tattooed men without even looking in their direction. Autumn and I followed.

“Mr. Volkov,” one of them called out, stepping forward. “Your father sent us to collect you.”

Father didn’t even slow his pace, walking straight up to the man holding the place card with our last name on it.

“Dimitri Volkov,” he greeted, extending a hand.

The man shook it. Nervousness vibrated from him. “H-hello sir, I’m Pedro. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place.”

“You are.” Moving to the back of the car, Father opened the door for Autumn. She thanked him and sat inside.

Now that it was clear which car we were going to, Tahlia and the man brought the luggage over and started loading it into the trunk. There wasn’t much. Just one suitcase for each of us and the bags we’d carried onto the plane.

If Grandfather asked about the lack of luggage, I already had a cover for it. If all went to plan, I wouldn’t be staying in Russia. After I killed Grandfather, I planned to go home. Sergei, of course, didn’t know that. So, I would tell him that the rest of my things would be getting shipped over in due time, even though I had no intention of doing so.

I moved to the other side of the car and opened the door.

“Mr. Volkov,” Sergei’s man tried again, his voice harsher, more insistent. “Your father will not like this.” The threat lying in his words was so obvious, even Pedro could hear it. He hurriedly rushed around the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat.

I smirked and leaned my arms on the roof of the car. “Sally Sergei will get over it, I’m sure.”

“I was not talking to you,” he said disdainfully.

“Are you talking to me now?”

“Why, you⁠—”

“My son is correct,” Father cut in, opening the passenger-side door. “My father will get over it.” And then he climbed in, shutting the door behind him.

The man’s mouth gaped open. His gaze cut to me. I smiled, waggling my fingers in the air before blowing him a kiss and disappearing into the car.

“You have the location?” Father asked Pedro.

“Yes, sir.”

Father nodded. “Let’s go.”

The engine roared to life, and then we were off. We drove parallel to the aircraft, and just as we turned, I saw a woman step out from inside the plane. I turned around to look out the back window as we continued to drive away.

She stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in black pants, a white button-up shirt with all the bells and whistles of a pilot uniform, right down to the hat on her head. She was staring right at the car, straight at me, as the vehicle moved further and further away.

Familiarity sparked.

The hat and ongoing distance concealed the woman’s face, so I wasn’t able to see her completely, but my body hummed with awareness regardless. Curiosity streaked through me.

Her hand raised into the air, and she waved.

I didn’t know why, but I waved back.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LUKYAN VOLKOV

I’d been to my grandfather’s compound before. Several times. But no matter how many times I saw it, it still blew my fucking mind.

Huge stone walls with barbed wires on the top. Dozens of men, women, and dogs on foot patrol. Tall, impenetrable towers were home to what I knew were teams of two with high-powered sniper rifles.

It reminded me of a military base.