Page 19 of Tormented Heir

“I need a favor. If you’re free.”

“Always for your good self.”

“My stepsister has been taken. I need a team. My stepfather, he’s not entirely legit, so if you don’t want in on this, I understand. But there will be a decent paycheck. I could really do with someone who knows their shit when it comes to extractions.”

“Count me in. I’m in your neck of the woods fitting a nanny-cam in the bedroom of some asshole’s estranged wife in Carmel. I can be with you in two hours.”

“Do you have any men working for you whom you trust?”

“One. I’ll bring him. Duke. He’ll need to catch a flight, but between him flying and me driving, we can be with you soon.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“See you in two. Where do you want me to meet you?”

“At the club my stepfather runs. It’s called Fitzroy’s and is on the edge of the financial district. I’ll drop you a pin.”

“Okay. Done. See you.”

He hangs up without further conversation.

I turn the car around and drive back to the financial district. The traffic in this part of town is light at this time of day. I hop out of my car outside the flashy club and hand my keys to the valet. There are already a few people waiting behind the rope to the right of the door. Eager.

The place is a mixture of a dance room, a restaurant, and a games room. It isn’t a casino, but Jacob needed the full gaming and entertainment license because of the games room. The premises are heavily monitored. It isn’t a front but a genuine business that is going from strength to strength. He’s already talked to me about opening another similar business but catering more to an alternative crowd in the Mission District. Anything to get him farther away from street level crime and into legitimate ways to make money. If he goes to prison, my mother will fall apart. This is the happiest she’s ever been.

I bypass the main rooms and duck through a side door by the cloakroom where I take the stairs two at a time to Jacob’s office.

When I walk in, he has Riley with him. Riley is part of the inner circle, even though he isn’t Russian or Ukrainian. He’s married to Jacob’s sister, Ionna, which makes him part of the family now, in every way. He’s also a tank. A huge mountain of a man with a jowly face and sparkling, blue eyes. His friendly eyes belie his steely nature.

He’s calm and an excellent shot. He’d be a good man to have with me on this. Him, Blade, Duke, and me. Would it be enough?

I’ll need to get eyes on where Nataliya’s being held to formulate a plan, but a small, well trained, and cohesive group is much better than a larger group. The more people you have on a situation like this, the more can go wrong.

Jacob is on the phone, and he hangs up and looks at me with a grim expression. “That was Ilya. A friend I have in Russia, he has his dark web guy on this, and I have our gal here looking into it.”

“Girl?” I ask automatically.

“Yes, Olivia. She’s a very talented hacker, and she also has her ear to the ground and the chatter going on. She works for many people, but the one person she has undying loyalty to is me.”

“How do you know she has undying loyalty? Maybe someone who can pay even more than us will come along,” I say.

He laughs. “Because I saved her life and the life of her son. Trust me. She puts this family’s needs first.”

His organization isn’t a family as such, but he always refers to it as one.

“What now?”

Jacob pinches the bridge of his nose. Dark circles under his eyes make it look like he hasn’t slept for a week, even though he only got the news today. “Now we wait.” He sighs.

7

DIMITRI

30-YEARS-OLD

I’m pacing the room, sick with anxiety and worry about Nataliya. Jacob is on his fifth cigarette, and he gave up smoking years ago. A coterie of his men is gathered outside, and their low voices fill the space with a steady, deep drone of conversation.

Blade is here with his friend, Duke. Duke is a guy who looks to be in his early forties, American, an ex-Green Beret. Blade is around my age, perhaps a little older, with piercing gray eyes and dark hair. His skin is olive, and he has ink curling up his neck and down one corded forearm. He looks like the sort of person you really don’t want to mess with. Duke is a little less aggressive looking. As for Riley, he looks like a wall no one is getting through.

---