Page 6

Our exits had caused quite the panic. Everyone was scrambling for information on our moves. The Four Families didn’t normally worry themselves with the emergence of new players on the scene. But the others weren’t the second sons of the most notorious and powerful crime families. Caleb and Kenji and I knew shit. We’d been bred for this life. Even if we’d never been destined to take over, our knowledge made us a genuine threat.

A pained yell cut through the white noise of the city. On instinct, my hand went for my gun at the small of my back as I scanned the area, fully expecting the sound to have come from a woman. This wasn’t the club any female should attend, alone or in a group. There was a reason the drugs were freely flowing at Neon Nights, and it had nothing to do with the Bratva being generous with their supply. Compliance was easy when people were high out of their fucking minds.

It was dark as shit in the parking lot, the only light being a dim glow from the club’s sign and a shitty streetlamp across the way. Pain shot through my jaw from how hard I was clenching it. My brain already painting a picture of what I’d find when I located the noise. Movement by the private entrance caught my attention.

“What the hell?” I whispered, moving closer.

Ivan was on his knees, his arm twisted at an angle that meant it was probably broken, and there was a hand slapped over his mouth, silencing him.

The garbled screams had come from him?

From my position, I couldn’t make out the details. But the figure standing at his back was not a man. She appeared to be about five-nine in her heels, with legs that went on for miles, and she was obviously strong. She’d have to be to take down the six-foot bouncer.

The smile I hadn’t realized I wore fell when Ivan reached for his waistband with his functioning arm.

“He’s going for his gun.” Without thinking about the consequences, I moved out of the shadows, ready to run to her aid. But a black SUV whipped into the parking lot, blocking my path and view.

“Fuck,” I called out, darting around the vehicle, only to find the door standing ajar and abandoned—no woman, no Ivan.

I tried to piece together what was going on as my brothers’ voices sounded behind me, paired with the slamming of car doors.

“I don’t give a shit what she thinks about any of us. She’s getting locked in an apartment so we won’t have to deal with her. What’s wrong, Nik?” Caleb asked.

Mossy eyes met mine, his face mostly unreadable as always. The only indication of his concern was the faint lines between his brows and how his hand had moved toward where he concealed his Glock.

I considered what to tell him.

He didn’t need to know about what I’d witnessed. It was probably nothing. Neon Nights had a reputation for people vanishing; no one knew this better than me. The mystery woman wasn’t our concern.

Besides, for all I knew, that could’ve been some kinky role-playing shit Ivan had going on. My gut protested at the thought of leaving her, but we had bigger things to do here tonight.

“Nothing. Just tired of the heat. How’d tonight go?” I asked, changing the subject.

Caleb stared at me for a few brief moments before giving a slight nod. Fucker was perceptive. It was why he ran point for our crew, but that skill of his was a bitch when I was the one trying to keep something from him.

“Boris was very helpful in providing us with information. Tonight’s the pickup, so we gotta move fast,” he answered, running a tattooed hand through his hair before glancing at the expensive watch adorning his wrist. “We’ve got maybe thirty minutes before whoever’s making the pickup is supposed to be here.”

Kenji rounded the front, and I quirked a brow at his appearance. “Nice blood. I’d say that’s a new look for you, but that’d be a lie,” I teased.

He winked as we fell into step with Caleb. “I told you I was coated in the shit. I’m a little sad you didn’t kill these fuckers,” Kenji threw back as we approached Alexei.

“Kolay. What are you doing here?”

I tensed at the use of the nickname, irritation spiking in my blood. “It’s Niko, and what’s everyone doing here, Alexei? We’re having a night out,” I replied, my tone flat, pushing past him as he snickered and mumbled about my “American tainted” preferences.

Kolay was the correct Russian version of a nickname for Nikolay. One I’d never gone by because it reminded me of when my father spat it at me in disgust. He hated that I wasn’t from Saint Petersburg like my older brother. Most of the men in Bratva were born in the mother country and then sent to the United States from the main Bratva branch in Russia. I was the disappointment because I’d been born an American citizen and lacked the accent as he had. As if I had any fucking control over where my mother was when I popped out of her vagina.

The scents of sweat, sex, and weed assaulted us the moment we exited the hall into the heart of the club. People parted, giving us a wide berth, minus the blond chick who’d attached herself to Caleb’s side.

“Damn, Caleb, your wife’s already old pussy, and she hasn’t even spread her legs yet,” Kenji joked, slapping my shoulder with his hand. “He told me I could have her since he doesn’t want a wifey.”

There was no way to stop my eye roll at his statement.

“Why would you want her? Dominick’s daughters are complete bitches,” I asked.

“Exactly what I said,” Caleb added, grabbing a handful of the blonde’s ass. “I’d never willingly want a Romano.” He gave Kenji a pointed look over his shoulder.

“Psh, I’ll fuck the entitled attitude right out of that pussy.” Our brother waved his tattooed hand dismissively. “You may not want a Romano, but if she’s hot enough, you’ll fuck her…” His statement sounded more like a question, making me chuckle at how Caleb’s silence had shaken his confidence.