Page 23 of Stolen By the Bratva King

“The police activity out there on Lake Street has been heavier lately,” I admit. “If I was caught chasing him down, especially if gunfire was involved, the cops would have even more reason to bring me in for an interrogation.”

“We have to watch our backs now more than ever,” Vlad declares.

“All because of an idiot who can’t control himself,” I grumble.

“Did he say why he was doing the gun running against your wishes? He had to have colossal balls to pull it off. He had to know that eventually he’d get caught.”

“Hedidn’tpull it off,” I remind Vlad, growling out each word. “Now a judge is dead.”

“It still doesn’t explain why Oleg is on this front in the first place.” Frustration creeps into Vlad’s voice.

“Oleg said he wasn’t making enough money, and that he started the gun running as a side hustle,” I explain.

Vlad explodes into laughter. “Is he serious? He makes more than half the guys on our crew. I was helping do the books the other night. He’s one of our top earners.”

“I called him out on it, too. The flashy Rolex and rings on his fingers sure tell a different story.” My blood is boiling. My head is so hot I want to go stick it in the freezer. “I need to cool down somehow or I’m going to start breaking things.”

“Want to go grab a beer and take out your anger on a dart board?” Vlad suggests.

I glance toward the bedroom. “I can’t do it right now.”

“Why not?” Vlad sounds disappointed.

“I have other things going on right now that I need to take care of,” I explain, without telling him too much because I want to leave Hazel out of it as much as I can.

“Look, Dave, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Vlad switches to English, and his voice is genuine.

“That doesn’t help me when there’s a target on my back now,” I grunt.

“It’s a setback,” Vlad admits. “But we’ve overcome worse.”

“I don’t want my crew bleeding because of this,” I say. “We have to correct the problem.”

“Where do you think Oleg ran off to?” Vlad asks.

I rub my jaw, which is aching because I’m so tense. “I don’t know but we need to find him. I’m not going down for this.”

“I’ll put some of my guys on tracking him,” Vlad declares. “He’s been known to hide out in the slum district when he feels the heat. We can start there.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “It’s as good a place to start as any, but my guys need to be careful, especially going into the slum. The people out there are crazy. And they don’t care if they get caught. They’llwantto go to jail because it means a free dinner and clean socks.”

“Oleg won’t get away with this,” Vlad promises. “We’ll come out on the winning side of this. My guys are smart. They won’t get themselves caught or killed. We’ll make that little weasel squirm.”

I snort. “You better hope so. We can’t afford to lose any of the good ones. If we don’t act fast, the cops will find a way to pin a bunch of bullshit charges on me. The pressure is heavy on me right now.”

“We won’t give the cops any extra reasons to suspect your involvement,” Vlad promises. “In any of this.”

I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a shot glass full of vodka, then down it in one swoop, relishing in the way it burns my throat, trickling down and warming my blood. I don’t chase it with anything. It’s just been that kind of day. Between dealing with Hazel and Oleg, I feel like I’m drowning in the stress.

“Find him,” I grumble.

“And when I do?” Vlad sounds eager.

“Don’t kill him,” I say with a sigh. “We need him alive.”

“Why?” Disappointment makes his voice falter.

“We need to get him to turn himself in,” I explain.

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