Page 79 of Wicked Arrangement

“I was curious, I wanted to see how the mighty had fallen, and boy had you fallen. But again, no one seemed to care that you were some nobody working in a shitty diner and a second job on top of caring for a batshit old lady, all the guys would moon over you, and you thought you were too good for them, acting like you didn’t see how they’d look at you,” she said disbelievingly, giving me a look to show she didn’t believe it.

“I was ready to cut you out of my life and then you tell me that you’ve fucking landed the most eligible bachelor in Atlanta and my husband’s enemy, Yaroslav Volkov. You’re like a catKimmy, you always land on your feet. A gold-digging freeloader whose only redeeming quality is a pretty face. No wonder you turned down all the other guys, you had bigger fish to catch.”

Amelia’s tirade was like a physical assault, her venomous words hitting me like punches. I couldn’t believe she was the same person I once thought she was. That this whole time she’d hated me more than I thought possible. Though she didn’t admit it, I knew her jealousy stemmed from her parents treating her as nothing more than an expendable commodity. A pretty trinket to be paraded around and then sold off to the highest bidder.

She might pretend that she never liked me, but I know that’s not true. When we were kids, my home was her sanctuary. She always wanted sleepovers at ours instead of hers. Her house may have been state of the art, but it was a cold, lifeless place where noise and mess of any kind were strictly forbidden. My home was filled with love and laughter, a place where we could just be kids. I feel almost sorry for Amelia, that her life has become so sad and empty that she’s filled it with a jealous vendetta against her only true friend.

Since that first day, Amelia has visited every day. Her visits make me almost long for the days I was left alone without food or water. Although I am now given rations, Amelia also comes with company. Doctors who strip me naked and inspect my body, roughly inserting tests inside me to check on the baby. When they first came, I fought back against them, terrified that they were going to harm my child or me. Amelia calmly promised that if I struggled, she’d personally cut the baby out of me and mail it to Yaroslav.

Amelia further tortures me by not allowing me to see my baby on the sonograms, or to know if they are healthy. Everyeffort is made to keep the child inside of me growing well, so I have to hope that there is nothing wrong, that the drugs used to kidnap me, and the days of starvation haven’t harmed my baby.

But the fact that they are so focused on my child scares me. Will they keep me here until I give birth? Will they then take my baby from me and kill me after?

Chapter 41

Yaroslav

April 17th, Savannah Seaport, South Carolina.

The cargo ship pulls into the dock right on time and my men quickly set about unloading the shipping containers and paying off the necessary people. It’s gone two in the morning. and the port is empty apart from my men and a few dock workers on my payroll. Despite it being pitch black outside, the port is well-lit with floodlights. I prefer to conduct these transactions at night, ports are operational twenty-four-seven, but there’s less movement from civilians, making it easier to carry out business without raising suspicion.

I have several men hidden around, should Roman Sharkozi’s men turn up, but I’m confident they won’t. I decided to change the port and time at the last minute and only let a select few know, I also gave out false information about several other new locations to try to catch the rat in my organization red-handed.

As I’m surveying the scene, a black SUV pulls up and Thomas Gillihan steps out. I’m surprised yet pleased that Gillihan has chosen to come here personally rather than send his men, it shows he’s taken my concerns about a potential attack seriously. To my relief, he doesn’t seem angry about the longer journey for the drop-off either.

“Gillihan, good to see you,” I say, striding over to shake his hand.

“Call me Thomas please, I think we’ve got to that point now, haven’t we partner?” Thomas says with a grin as he watches my men efficiently start to load up his vehicles with the merchandise.

I nod, “Thomas it is, and please, call me Yaroslav. Would you like to check the product is to your satisfaction?” I ask, nodding in the direction of the closest container.

“Lead the way,” he says with a smile, friendly clapping me on the back.

Inside the container, I break open one of the porcelain jugs to reveal the hidden contents. Thomas surveys the powder before pulling out a small flick knife, cutting it open, and sticking the end inside to put a small amount on the tip of the blade. He then proceeds to dab a small amount on his gums before sniffing a similar-sized bump from the blade. He sniffs loudly and his pupils widen almost as much as his grin.

“You weren’t lying my friend, this is high-quality shit!” he says happily.

“I’m glad you are satisfied,” I reply politely.

Inside I’m thrilled that he’s so pleased with the shipment, it means the chance of repeat business and an ongoing partnership is high. With the backing of the Gillihan Mob, the Volkov Bratva will soon be untouchable.

“I’m more than satisfied, my friend,” Thomas says reaching out to shake my hand, “I see this as just the beginning of a mutually beneficial partnership.”

“Good, I do too, Thomas,” I agree.

“Bear with me a sec, I’ll send through the remainder of the payment to you now,” Thomas says, holding up a finger and pulling out his phone.

I take the opportunity to do the same, checking my phone for an update from Vova and Artem at their respective locations. Both have messaged me.

Vova: No sign of him here, Boss.

I open Artem’s, and a smile dances across my lips.

Artem: We’ve got him. We’ve got Roman Sharkozi.

Grinning, I type back a response to Artem.

Good job, take him to the holding cell and see if you can make him sing.

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