Page 80 of Owned By The Bratva King

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Roman. I only?—”

I leap to my feet and flip the desk, and it crashes to the ground, the green banker’s lamp smashing to pieces.

“Silvio Vercotti has no fucking honor!” I shout. “He was my friend. He turned on me, and for what? Now he’s taken my wife.”

I punch the wall, popping my knuckle, but the pain barely registers. “My fucking wife, Leon! Where is Bernard now?”

“No one is willing to tell me that, for obvious reasons,” he replies. “Drop it; it’s not important. We gotta stay on task here.”

He’s right, of course, but he doesn’t get it. White-hot fury rolls and boils inside me, only growing with every minute that passes without my Quinn safe and at my side.

I curse my stupidity for underestimating Silvio’s hatred of me, for allowing the komissiya to take the reins and not allow me to murder the fucker.

I allow myself a mirthless laugh. Ironically, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been trying to move forward and grow.

Quinn made me want to be a better person. I tried to take her compassion to heart and be the man she deserved.

The future was coming for me, and for the first time, it seemed it could be bright. Now my dreams are dust and my love destroyed, just as Silvio’s was when we lost Bianca.

The difference is that his love was a delusion.

Mine is real.

“I’m gonna shake down Vercotti’s former associates again,” Leon says. “Viktor is still trying to track down Ricky Lubomski. All this shit gave him quite a scare, so it’s likely he skipped town, but you never know. Someone must have helped Vercotti; it’s only a matter of time until we find out who.”

He leaves, and I stumble like a zombie to my room. I run the shower cold and stand under it to lift the fog of alcohol and grief.

The intrusive thoughts are what got me on the booze. A sick showreel plays in my mind; Quinn tortured, tied up, beaten. But I can’t think of her being dead. My imagination can’t go there.

In that vision lies the very essence of madness; if that thought takes hold, I’ll never return from it.

My only solace is the knowledge that Silvio is a true sadist. To murder my wife immediately would be to deny himself the fun of making me suffer.

I’m not out looking for Quinn because I’m not rational right now. If I got an inkling someone was keeping something from me, real or imagined, I’d be liable to cave their skull in with my bare hands. Leon and Viktor understood this before I did and encouraged me to do my freaking out at home.

There’s an altogether more straightforward reason, though, and it’s this—at some point, when he’s gorged on fantasies of my torment, he’ll get in touch with me. I’d bet every dime I have.

The icy water does wonders to clear my head. I dress and make coffee, then sit on my balcony, the chill breeze whipping my damp hair.

Until now, I thought I had invaded Quinn’s life, but it was the reverse. Once she got hold of my heart, she warmed it and gave it life.

She’s the one who took control of me, and fool that I was, I didn’t realize other people would see an opportunity.

Her naivete, her goodness—the traits I loved in her made her vulnerable. I knew that. How could I be so stupid to think no one else would notice?

My phone is ringing, and I pick it up to see Quinn’s name on the screen. I know it won’t be her on the line, but I swipe to green, hoping to hear her voice.

“Roman?”

“Quinn!” I stand, spilling my coffee. “Are you hurt, moya zhena? Jesus Christ. Where are you?”

A muffled cry, a crackle. Then, inevitably, Silvio Vercotti himself.

“How you doing, fuckface?” he asks cordially. “Sleeping well? Not tearing yourself to pieces or anything? I’m so glad.”

“It’s me you want,” I say through gritted teeth. “Tell me where and when, and we can have it out, once and for all. But leave Quinn out of it.”

“You could have stayed away from her, and she wouldn’t be in this mess,” Silvio snaps. “I’d be more than happy to see you, but you come alone. I’ll know if you have anyone with you. Fuck with me, and I’ll gut the bitch before you get to the front porch.”

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