Page 39 of Dark Truths

“What did he do now?”

Ever since the O’Leary girl disappeared back in April, he’s been a loose cannon growing more and more unhinged. He’seither on drugs or drunk and often it’s both. The only positive to his shit show meltdown is that he’s left the business alone. He hasn’t been to a meeting in over two months, and it’s been oddly…peaceful not having decisions second guessed.

“Heard from the manager at Paradise that Igor’s been leaving marks on the girls there.”

Paradise is one of our premier strip clubs that includes certain allowances. For a little extra, a patron can enjoy more than a lap dance behind the curtain. However, the one rule is no marks on the girls. They spend their time naked, so their bodies need to be in pristine condition. A small bruise here or there is no big deal and not a cause for alarm, so what did Igor do that warrants the manager being concerned?

“What happened?”

“Igor’s got a few favorites there and took a knife to a pair when they didn’t do what he asked. He was drunk and on heroin, but it still took three of our men to subdue him.”

Jesus Christ. “Sergei—”

The older man holds his hand up, silencing me as he interjects. “I know, Volkov. I know what you’re going to say. But he’s my brother. He’s blood. He’s family.”

“Just because he’s family doesn’t excuse his behavior. You know this. What would you have done to any other man who behaved the same way?”

“Punished him.”

“Exactly.”

Sergei stops his pacing and braces his arms on the back of the chair in front of my desk. He bows his head, sighing hard in defeat. It’s odd. In this last year, I’ve noticed a decline in the old man. Like something heavy weighs on his mind and it’s affecting his physique. There are more gray hairs and lines on his face. I’m beginning to think the time I have left undercover iscoming to an end sooner than I realize. I just need to gather the information Ford wants before then.?

“What would you have me do?”

It’s not uncommon for Sergei to approach me for advice on business matters, but personal? That rarely happens. “Send him to a rehab facility. Or, hell, back home to Russia even. Either way, he needs to get clean.”

Sergei sighs hard again. “I’ll speak with him tonight.” He stands straight and adjusts his suit. His eyes drop to the books on my desk. “I trust everything is going well otherwise?”?

I nod and keep my answer vague. “Better than well.”

“Excellent. That’s what I like to hear. If only you were family, Dimitri.” He turns toward the door before he stops and peers over his shoulder, his dark gaze twinkling with an idea. “You know. Sophia is away on vacation, but when she returns, maybe we can change that.”

It takes every ounce of restraint and willpower to keep my face neutral and my eyes even. Sophia is his only child and the Bratva law refuses to hand the Pakhan seat to a woman. He hoped that her marriage to Michael DiAngelo would produce an heir, but the man turned out to be sterile. A whole other shit show I won’t get into, but now the younger brother, Raphael, is heir, and after the wedding in April, the tension between the Russians and Italians has been…strained to say the least.

Don’t get me wrong, Sophia is a beautiful woman. Tall and blonde with blue eyes. But the moment she opens her mouth, she morphs into a spoiled and entitled brat with nothing but air between her ears. If she heard what Sergei had just suggested, she would be thrilled. I’m not blind. The girl has had a crush on me from the moment she first met me. Being married didn’t stop her from showing it, either.

I nod my head at Sergei and prepare to lie through my fucking teeth. “I’d be honored, Pakhan.”

He leaves and I count to ten to ensure he’s really gone before I lean forward and drop my head to the desk. Resting my forehead there, I close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts and focus my mind. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of something perilous, something too big and deep to see the bottom of, something that will inevitably end in blood and death.

I need to get laid. Sex helps clear my mind, but I haven't had the time or desire since Gabriella. Not even Ana in a brown wig could tempt me.

I miss her. I miss the real thing. Miss the moments we spent together. Even the innocent ones like lying in bed, just stroking her hair and writing words on her back that she would hen have to guess. Like helping her study, watching movies with her, making dinner with her, walking along the beach with her at night…

I just miss her.

My phone buzzes again. With growing frustration, I sit up and reach for it. Intent on answering it by threatening the life of the caller but freeze when I see the name.?

Angel

I blink several times like it’s a hallucination. It has to be my mind playing tricks on my eyes because I was just thinking of her.

But it’s not. It's real.

I swipe the green button and hold the phone up to my ear.?

“Gabriella?”

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