Page 4 of Tarnished Reign

“Igor, sir.”

“It’s Dimitri, not sir. Don’t look so scared, Igor. These two fucked up epically. Don’t be like these guys and you’ll be fine.” I walk back to him and ignore his flinch before I pat his shoulder. “We’re family, right? We stick together, we all obey the father figure, and everything runs smoothly.”

He swallows and nods.

“I will say it again for all of you.” I indicate for Alexis to close the box. I think they’ve seen enough. “This isn’t a threat. None of you need to worry about this unless you screw us over big time.”

They know it is true. A year ago, two of the men in this room accidentally shot one of our own in a raid that went wrong. They’re still here, breathing, unmaimed.

Mistakes happen. We don’t punish those. I will however rain down hell on anyone who fucks us over.

That means the Albanian, Greek, and Turkish mobsters who are holding one of our women are about to meet an inferno of pain.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s get ourselves ready. We will hit them just before dawn. When they least expect it. Time to go bring back what is ours.”

2

DIMITRI

The screaming and shouting have died down now. Soft sobs and low moans fill the air.

Boarding the yacht was easy, so was taking out most of Dorian’s men. Trying not to shoot the running, screaming, terrorized women as they got in the way, not so much.

Sadly, one did take a bullet, in her thigh. Seb wrapped a towel around it to stem the bleeding while they take her to the mainland to the hospital. She was one of the working girls, here by choice.

It’s not difficult to tell them apart. The girls hired and paid to be here are dressed in expensive clothes, smelling of the latest overhyped fragrance that costs a hundred dollars a spray, and wearing designer bracelets. The girls who are trafficked are in cheap clothes, their faces haunted, their eyes always on the floor. They remind me of the street dogs we saw in Afghanistan. Kicked. Abused. Treated like dirt until all they do is slink in the shadows. These women will be given help with an organization we’ve worked with before.

The priority right now is finding Mila, then we can have our fun with any of the gang who are still alive.

The yacht is huge, and the rumor is that Dorian stole it from a rival drug lord, so it’s kind of poetic that I’m going to steal it from him.

The horizon has a faint glint of pink, heralding the beginning of dawn. The water shimmers like a pond, with the gorgeous stillness you sometimes get at this time of day. It could be a beautiful scene if not for the mayhem all around me.

“Hey, boss,” Yuri shouts. “We have her. Middle deck.”

Thank fuck. I jog across the top deck of the yacht and take the stairs to the middle deck, trusting the men to take care of the traumatized women and make sure no more of Dorian’s men appear from the many hiding places and rooms.

I head down a long corridor and find Alexis by a door slightly ajar. I turn to Yuri. “Take Dean and do a sweep of the other rooms. We don’t have Dorian or his supposed girlfriend yet.”

He nods and stalks off, weapon raised. Yuri is a great attack dog. He can be intimidating and at times callous. Alexis is much more capable of offering the kind, calm figure I want walking into this room with me.

We push open the door, and I enter the room, followed by Alexis, trepidation churning in my gut.

Mila is on a bed, still dressed in the clothes she was taken in, and appears to be unharmed. She’s been crying, and her hair is a mess, but she seems good, all things considered.

I approach cautiously, slow, methodical steps, and she leaps from the bed as she sees me.

“Cousin Dimitri!” Her arms wrap around my waist, and she hugs me tight.

I’m not her cousin. Virgil, her dad, isn’t blood related to me or to Jacob, but she calls Jacob uncle, and my mother, aunty. Blood or not, in our world, she is family.

“You’re safe now,” I say as I stroke her hair. I pull back and tip her chin up gently. “Did they hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “They threatened me, but they didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay. That’s good.” She might not tell me everything she’s been through, but her mom has said she’ll get her whatever support she needs.

“I have a friend here, Josie. Can you find her?” she surprises me by asking.

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