Page 120 of For a Price

But it almost doesn’t matter how the pakhan has found out—he knows and he’s decided to wield Katerina as a weapon against me. If he didn’t outright sell her to the Midnight Society through a proxy like JC, then he certainly sought her out in the marketplace, purchasing her so he could inflict harm.

I might never know the full truth of what’s gone on.

It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore.

As Kazan finishes his latest intel brief, it’s clear there’s no one other than my inner circle who I can trust. I’m preparing to go scorched earth on the entire family.

“We believe we’re aware of JC Howell’s location,” Dmitri announces once Kazan’s done speaking. He brings a map up on the projector screen and gestures to the Harrisburg neighborhood in Easton. “He was spotted there earlier today. We’re closing in on him.”

“I want him brought to me,” I say. “He’s going to wish for death.”

“He’s taking payments from someone.” Dmitri strokes his chin in thought. “He’s been evading us for this long. It means somebody must be helping.”

“I have an idea who. Find him immediately. Keep him alive. He’s mine.” I rise up from the planning table where I’ve been seated and then gesture to Kazan. “Eyes on this Midnight Society. I want to know who the fuck this Handler is and why heput Katerina up for sale. He will be paying for what he’s done too. They all will be.”

My men disperse like they usually do at the end of these meetings. Only Kazan remains for a private word. He steps toward me, his arms folded behind his back.

“We don’t have the numbers to take on the pakhan. We don’t even have the numbers to defeat your father. Reconnaissance is good… but where is this headed, Zver?”

“Have some faith,” I answer vaguely. “I have a plan. But first do your fucking job. Get me the information I need.”

Another tense week goes by where we’ve retreated into the shadows as we conduct our recon missions. We’ve dropped off the map as far as the bratva is concerned. The schism in our family becomes official, as my crew no longer takes orders from anyone but me. The sovietnik and pakhan have no say in what me or my men do.

We’ve broken off and become our own faction.

Our security measures are heightened at all times. There’s no such thing as too many precautions when in opposition of the pakhan.

Kazan was correct when he said we don’t have the numbers. I have one crew of men.

The pakhan has dozens.

But I’ve never been one to back down from a fight. I’ve never been one to care about odds being stacked against me.

I was born with nothing. I come from the slums like Katerina did. I’ve fought my way out and risen up the ranks of the bratva, not because the sovietnik is my father (he was never a father asI grew up dirt poor in Borovsk where he initially abandoned us). I’ve earned my position by my own merit.

That’s why I’m viewed as a threat.

I wasn’t groomed from birth like so many others in leadership roles. I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth like the pakhan was.

I’m stronger, sharper, and younger than my father.

The pakhan never viewed him as a threat. He viewed me as the threat all along.

Kazan and the others provide me constant updates on their findings. JC continues to elude capture, confirming what we’ve suspected. Someone powerful is backing him; probably the same powerful someone who hired his crew to kidnap Roman Volkova in the first place.

…except now it doesn’t seem to be a mistake that Katerina and her crew took me hostage.

Now it seems like that wasalwaysthe plan.

Katerina was simply left in the dark about what was really going on.

The Handler isn’t as lucky as Kat’s former accomplice. He’s brought in after my men capture him late at night outside the Winchester Hotel in Easton.

We tie him up to a chair. He’s already bruised and swollen by the time I’m walking into the room to see him. He does his best imitation of a steely, old-school Russian who wants to remain stoic and unbreakable, but there are signs that reveal otherwise.

The subtle chatter of his teeth when he believes I’m not looking. The cadence of the breaths he takes in. Even the cloud of confusion in his beady little eyes.

Borys Yakovlev is the guy who handles the people put up for sale by the Midnight Society. He treats the people like cattle as he offers them up for auction. Katerina told me all about howhe’d shoved her into a bird cage and let the pakhan bid six thousand dollars on her.

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