Page 3 of Trapping His Assassin

“Permission granted,” Alexie agreed.

I pointed to the door, and waited for Alexie to allow me to leave. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand, and I gave him a respectful nod. I could share my thoughts on this plan with him another day. It wasn’t like I was worried about being killed. Not anymore.

I touched the scar on my throat briefly, a flash of pain reminding me of the knife slicing through my tendons. No, I didn’t fear death, but I wanted more. I wanted power. I wanted to lead. It was in my blood.

My phone rang for video as I was sliding into my car. I answered, and waited for my Pakhan’s face to load.

Viktor cleared his throat. “Roman, I need you to be my eyes and ears in Italy. The Don has a madness to him. I need you towitness it, just in case this turns out to be some kind of setup. Use those sharp skills of yours to forge a new alliance.”

I signed, “What’s in it for me?” Alexie and I had devised an intricate hand code, derived from American Sign Language, enhanced with our own set of coded words that only a select few could interpret. Quite ingenious, if I do say so myself.

My inquiry wasn’t meant to be disrespectful, even though I was about to follow yet another set of orders that didn’t benefit me directly. The truth is, I didn’t need more money. What I craved was more power.

A few beats of silence passed before he spoke again. “I heard some of the men say that Alexie has succumbed to madness.”

I shrugged, tapping my fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel, eager to be on my way.

“I want to take over all of the United States. However, Konstantin, my son, is not yet fit to rule. You are the only one closest to blood that I have who could.”

I peeled out, hoping he grasped that his offer was insufficient. I ensured the phone was securely propped up in my cup holder, so he could observe my hand signals should I need to communicate further.

“I could call Alexie home,” Viktor offered.

As I sped down the highway, I contemplated his suggestion. If Alexie were out of the equation, I could govern this entire territory without his incessant fits of madness, and his archaic tendency to put heads on spikes. The populace would undoubtedly be less fearful in any city we visited.

Financially, we’d see a significant increase. I could manage the drug and skin trade, without it being so abhorrent. By taking control of that market, I could eliminate the competition, and ensure that no woman or child was ever harmed again. This could be a monumental shift in our operations. It wasn’tfully thought out though. Somehow women and children would become cattle again. It was inevitable.

Given that delightful tidbit of information, I communicated my affirmative response to Viktor, using our carefully crafted hand code.

“Good. I expect to hear from you within the week,” he said, before abruptly terminating the call. Viktor, my so-called uncle, harbored no familial affection for me. Whether he chose to see me as kin, or not, was of little consequence. Alexie, however, did adopt me. I was the Bratva on American soil. The men respected me. We made a profit.

Nevertheless, I aspired to achieve more.

And Alexie was, rather unfortunately, an obstacle in my path.

My phone buzzed once more, and it was Alexie. Given his propensity for demanding things from me, I knew he wanted something from this trip. If I didn’t answer, he’d likely concoct some scheme to irritate me later. Not wishing to endure his particular brand of vexation, I accepted the call in silence.

“It’s time for you to settle down,” Alexie stated with no introductory pleasantries.

My throat protested in a rather painful manner, reflecting my astonishment. Marriage at my age? Absurd! If only I could disconnect from this call without incurring further aggravation.

“What was that?” His voice elevated slightly.

Alexie consistently attempts to provoke me into speaking, because he knows I am capable. I opted for silence. It wasn’t just the discomfort; he simply didn’t merit my verbal contributions.

“Don’t be shy now. Speak up,” he sighed in exasperation. “I want you to solidify an alliance with the Italians, so that when the Don experiences his inevitable demise, you can assume his position.”

Utterly flabbergasted, I pulled over and switched to FaceTime. There, face-to-face with my father, who grinned into the camera with unnerving satisfaction.

“I knew that would capture your attention.”

I frowned in response.

He leaned in, even though his office was no longer in use, since he would be traveling with Sloane to a special fertility place, to share his plan. “With you in Italy, and me expanding our influence here, our reach would be boundless. Just contemplate it.”

I couldn’t help but visualize his grand vision. Under Alexie’s guidance, I learned how his eccentricities sometimes benefitted The Brotherhood in the long run. It didn’t necessarily render me virtuous, but it did make me exceptionally astute.

Alexie’s tone remained stern. He had a zero-tolerance policy for disrespect, particularly in public settings. I remember the training pits that I grew up in were renowned for their intense challenges, and I lacked the time for such endeavors. Egregiously slaughtering people to become strong wasn’t indicative of my genius.

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