Page 35 of Dangerous Beginnings

I lock the door behind me, the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoing in the silence. The apartment feels too quiet, too still. I flick on the lights, casting away the shadows that seem to cling to every corner. I hang my coat over the chair, my movements slow and deliberate, and kick off my shoes, letting them fall haphazardly. I sigh as I turn on all the lights, making sure to close the curtains. I must have left them open when I left, but now they feel like open eyes peering into my sanctuary.

The chill from the New York night seeps into the room, so I pull on my warmest socks, trying to shake off the unease gnawing at the edges of my mind. In the kitchen, I reach for a glass, the silence pressing down on me. As I take a sip of water, my phone vibrates. The sound slices through the stillness, making me flinch. I roll my eyes, assuming it’s Alexa, the only person who would text me at this hour.

I pull my hair into a bun, trying to brush off the creeping tension. But when I pull out my phone, the water catches in my throat. I freeze, staring at the screen, the glass slipping from my hand and shattering on the floor.

Unknown:

Sniffing around in my business, I hear?

Chapter 22

Speak of the Devil

Aslanov

The water in the shower cascades over me, washing away the residue of the night’s grim work. The room is filled with steam, a thin veil that obscures the reflection in the mirror. There is no blood, a clean murder it had been. An example set. My men have escorted Volkov his body outside, in public. It will be an example of betrayal for everyone to see. Includingher. The price to pay. The message had been sent, echoing through the underworld like a chilling whisper. But not only through the underworld. Loyalty was not negotiable, and those who dared to challenge it met a fate etched in blood, and without fingers.

As I step out of the shower, I catch a glimpse of myself in the fogged-up mirror. The tattoos that mark my skin, symbols of my ascent in the criminal hierarchy, seem to pulse with dark energy. I towel off and dress in a fresh suit, the fabric crisp against my skin.

Last night I came to a discovery. Someone has been sniffling into my business and I know exactly who it is. Isabella, unknowingly entangled in the threads of her own curiosity, becomes the focal point of my attention. Again.

My tech experts work diligently, tracing the digital footsteps in the online web. That is how we found out, a small leak. In New York City, somewhere. We couldn’t access the details, but I know just one woman in New York with the curiosity to sniff into these cases. As far as my men think it is just another enemy, but I know better.

I’d rather deal with her myself. And this time it would be final.I’m not known for my patience and forgiveness.

My fingers clench around the edge of the dark wooden table, the strain in my jaw betraying the simmering anger. Loyalty is the bedrock of my empire, and her intrusion is a breach that cannot be tolerated. The consequences of betrayal echo through the underground passages of the city, and yet, she dares to defy the boundaries I’ve set. Be careful Isabella, or you might end up without fingers too.

A twisted smile plays on my lips as I type the message. The message sent, I pocket the phone and step into the darkness of my mind. The city below, unaware of the intricacies unfolding in its midst, continues its restless rhythm. Not many people get the privilege to be contacted directly by me, but for her I’ll make an exception. She invited me in, and now her prayers will be answered.

Isabella

The glow of my phone screen casts an eerie light in the dimly lit room. I can just hear his voice. What have I done? My heartbeat is so fast, my fingers sweat, and I don’t know what to do. I feel so much regret.Fuck fuck fuck. And the fact that I am “sniffing” around isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that I work for the authorities now, at a fucking police department.

I take a deep breath, I shouldn’t reply. His green eyes pierce the back of my mind. I close my eyes as I remember him so vividly. The darkness that surrounded him. His green piercing eyes, dark hair, and a towering height. Black ink covering half his body, towards his rough hands. His stubbles and sharp jawline. Always in a black suit, dressed up as handsome as the devil. The devil being his nickname suits him just right. I liked him best cuffed up in prison. And even then he scared the shit out of me.

His deep Russian voice still lingers in my mind and sometimesat night, I swear I can hear him. He haunts my mind and now he haunts me physically too.

Before I can think of a response my phone lights up again with Ada calling me. Ada works just like me in administration for the authorities. She has been working beside me, and we’ve become good friends. I hesitantly pick up the phone and put it to my ear, barely able to hold it still. Her voice immediately washes over me through the speaker.

“Isa! Have you seen the news?!” She nearly yells. I frown my eyebrows.

“No, what’s up?” I walk over to the living room couch and switch the TV on to the news channel. Ada keeps talking but it’s a blur that I only hear, static. I watch the dead body of a man. Or what is left of him? My stomach turns sick.

“Isa, are you still there?”

I swallow, “Yes, what is this? And where-where are his fingers?”

“Look in the corner, it’s cast from Russia. Moscow to be precise. There are rumors that this was an ally of the boss of the Bratva, but he crossed paths with him. Look at the mark on his stomach, it’s the Bratva mark. They are setting an example.” I swallow harder while staring at the bloody marked skin of the man.

“For what?” But I already know what for.Betrayal.

I drop the phone to the floor, hearing Ada faintly from the ground. But I don’t hear more than my blood pumping through my body. I have always had anxiety, but for sure it’s peaking now. The man on the TV is merely a body left. They abused him. They tortured him, and he died. The man that just sent me a message. I watch as the streets of Moscow fill up with people. All staring and gagging at the sight.

“Isabella!”

I flinch as I pick up the phone, “Sorry! I’m just—shocked.”

“I get it, he’s playing with fire. Rumors are he is more ruthless than he has ever been, and he even controls the police in Russia.”

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