Page 52 of Past Due

“What’s on it?”

“BlockVault,” Zec said in his raspy voice.

Besian frowned at the mention of the recent and highly publicized crypto theft. “The crypto cold wallet scam? The fuck does that have to do with us?” When he saw the brief grimace on Luka’s face, Besian exploded. “Are you fucking kidding me? You ran a crypto scam?” He glared at Zec who was supposed to keep Luka from making stupid decisions. “We talked about this! We agreed it was too big of a risk!”

Zec shrugged. “I wasn’t involved.”

Besian turned his ire toward his nephew. “What did you do?”

To his credit, Luka didn’t shy away from owning his mistake. “I decided it was worth the risk. The counterfeit wallets looked exactly like the real thing. Same weight, same specs, everything was genuine except for what was inside. We sold the whole shipment in less than two weeks!”

“I have no doubt,” Besian growled. “The problem wasn’t getting idiots to buy them and use them to hold their crypto offline. The problem was getting the crypto off those wallets and into our pockets.”

“It actually wasn’t,” Luka retorted. “We did trial runs and then ran huge sweeps, pulling all the crypto off the fake cold wallets and into our accounts.”

“But?” Besian asked, knowing there was a big one coming.

“We couldn’t move the money through exchanges without attracting too much attention so I had the stolen crypto moved to legit cold wallets. The plan was to spread them out among our crews, have them claim it, use and exchange it. Eventually, we could feed it all back into a handful of master accounts to use legitimately.”

“Where are the real cold wallets now?”

Zec laughed in that terrifying wheeze of his. “This is the best part.”

Luka glared at the enigmatic fixer before meeting Besian’s stare and admitting, “They were stolen.”

“Holy Christ,” Besian swore and rubbed his face. Then, remembering something Luka had said, he asked, “Who was we?”

Luka hesitated, and Besian’s gut clenched in fear for his nephew. Sitting forward, he practically begged, “Tell me you didn’t get into bed with the Serbians.”

Luka cringed. “I’ve known Dusan my whole life. We went to school together. We’re friends, and I trust him. He trusts me. It was a good deal!”

Besian unleashed a string of expletives and shot out of his chair. His hands clenched at his sides as he tried to control his anger. Instead of hitting his nephew, he stormed to the double doors leading out to Luka’s private patio. He threw open the doors and stalked outside, breathing in the clean air and trying to calm himself.

Dusan Simovic wasn’t the problem. As far as mafioso went, he was tame, but his elder brother, Darko, the leader of their clan, was a different story altogether. He was notoriously bad-tempered and cruel. He would consider this a double-cross and come after everyone Luka loved if he didn’t get back his money.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Get Marley out of Albania as quickly as possible. Her safety was the only thing that mattered right now. Rina was a close second.

The crushing weight of this mess Luka had created made his chest hurt, and he reached up to rub the spot where he had been shot. This morning he had been so happy, so carefree, and now he felt as if he might be dying. Before coming into this office, everything he had ever wanted—Marley as his wife, a family—was within reach. Luka’s revelation had ripped it out of his hands.

He blew out a noisy breath, desperate to regain his composure. There was no point in letting rage overwhelm him. There was no point in chastising Luka. What’s done was done, and he had to figure out how to fix it.

Coming back into the office, he met Zec’s even stare. Nothing ever seemed to unsettle Zec, and Besian envied his friend in that moment. Turning his attention on his nephew, he asked, “How much?”

“Twenty-nine.”

Besian went numb. “The next word out of your mouth better be thousand.”

Luka winced. “Million.”

“Twenty-nine million,” he repeated, certain his dumbass nephew had not fucked them over that badly.

Luka nodded stiffly. “Maybe a little more. Maybe a little less.”

Besian hastily calculated what he had in liquid assets, real estate, his business interests and illegal income. He was a wealthy man, but he wasn’t that wealthy.

He glanced at Zec who had piles of secret cash hidden all over the world, but Zec lifted his hands and shook his head. “If we give them money, they’ll never stop asking.”

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