Page 74 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

Max puts a hand on my shoulder. “We won’t be alone.”

“I’m on it,” Ivan says as he takes out his phone and starts making calls.

This is more than a rescue operation. It’s more than revenge. Definitely more than mere defense. We’re rallying our fighters from all over the city to help us. But at the same time, we need a subtler, more intelligent approach from a different angle. Matthew Phelps needs to go down tonight as well.

One way or another, we have to end it all before midnight.

25

Lyric

My stomach churns as I sit in a holding cell at the FBI field office. At least it smells better than the room I woke up in.

“Here’s some water,” an agent offers as he comes through the door holding a chilled bottle.

“Thanks,” I reply, watching as he sets it on the floor in front of me. “So, are you working with Smith on this? Are you aware that I’m a kidnapping victim?”

The guy gives me a cold grin. “You have no idea how powerful we are, Miss Phelps. But you’re going to find out tonight. Just be thankful that your father is who he is, otherwise, they would’ve already fished you out of the river by now.”

“Unbelievable,” I murmur, shaking my head in dismay as the agent chuckles and leaves me alone again.

It’s quiet down here. Quiet, cold, and incredibly lonely. I’m sore all over and scared for my life, for my baby’s life. Regardless of Smith’s intentions, declared or otherwise, I can’t bring myself to trust that bastard—certainly not with my life and well-being. Not with the life that’s growing inside of me.

Oh, God, how do I get myself out of this mess?

“I’m entitled to a phone call, aren’t I?” I shout, hoping that someone might hear me.

I’m worried sick. What if they get to them? What if they already have? What if tonight, the guys go down in flames, while trying to save me? I try to come up with a plan, much like I always do, but there isn’t a viable solution in sight.

The door opens and my heart skips a beat. “Finally,” I sigh. “I need to make a phone call. I have the right to a phone call!”

My enthusiasm dwindles quickly when Jack Bowman kneels before me. That same confident smirk as before splattered across his face. It makes me sick to my stomach, but given my predicament, I must be extremely careful in how I deal with this man.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright and well taken care of,” Bowman says. “We’re not monsters, Lyric. We’re just trying to protect everything that we’ve worked so hard to build.”

“And you call yourself my father’s friend,” I hiss. “Having me drugged and kidnapped.”

“That was exaggerated, I know, and I do apologize,” he says with a subtle, polite bow of his head. “I’ll make sure that the man responsible is punished accordingly. But you’ll be safe here. It’ll soon be over and you can go back to your life.”

I shake my head slowly. “What the hell are you planning to do?”

“Right some wrongs,” he casually replies. “Letting the Sokolov’s take over after their father passed away was a grave mistake. Matthew did warn me about them. Smith wasn’t too sure either. But I hoped they’d take a page out of the old man’s book. I sent my people to talk to them about the organization, about how the system worked between us. It should’ve made sense that all they needed to do was follow the same rules and traditions. If they had, everybody would’ve been happy.”

“Right. Every once in a while, the Bureau would announce a successful sting or RICO operation. The mafia bosses would get rid of their undesirables that way, and you were able to keep your corruption machine well-oiled and running at full capacity.”

“You make it sound so crass, but yes, in a nutshell. Lyric, we’re doing important business here. We’re working with colossal amounts of money. Domestic and foreign interests aplenty. We have political and financial influence across the entire state, not just the city, and once your father gets his senate seat, we’ll strengthen our position. We won’t even need the local mafia families then.”

“So, forget the men and women who risk their lives as policemen and federal agents. Forget those who put themselves on the line so that criminals are punished for their crimes.”

“Who said that?”

“You, the criminal standing right in front of me. The criminal that’s getting away with a lot, might I add. How is any of this fair?”

Bowman crosses his arms, carefully pondering his answer as he measures me from head to toe. “Personally, I’m more interested in figuring out how you turned out the way you did, Lyric. The apple couldn’t have fallen farther from the tree. What happened?”

“My eyes were opened at a young age,” I reply. If this man wants to get to know me better, I might as well give him a piece of my mind. Maybe it’ll sway him away from his intended path. “I saw my father for who he really was. His words didn’t match his actions, and it shattered my trust in him. He lies for a living. He pretends to be someone he stopped being a long time ago. I decided I didn’t want to be anything like him.”

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