Page 3 of Brutal Promise

The difference between me and contracting something out? Trust and the fact I’m willing to kill to protect my own. People who join us because they need a paycheck, aren’t in a life of crime for the right reasons. Their loyalty is to money. My loyalty is to blood, family, and honor, my holy trinity. Most of the men we kill are traitors, and we find them by following their trail of greed and misguided decisions. Men with addictions to gambling or vodka are not uncommon, but the men who skim to feed their vices will be exposed for their weakness. You steal from us, and you pay with your life. It’s the code we live and die by.

I lean back as Kirill blasts tunes from speakers that make the car vibrate. It’s not like we can talk over it; he has the windows open. My hair is so short it barely moves from the wind. I see the morning sun and think this could be anywhere in the world.

My college degree is in business finance, but I learned more off the books than in class. Dad wanted me to have something he never had a chance to pursue, a legitimate path in life. Other than learning perfect English, I often wondered what the point of going to college was. There is only one path when one is born into our family.

It’s nice to see Kirill. I figured we were due for a visit when he called. With Roman and Nikolay running Russia and London, I decided not to question it and take the trip. Why not? It will only be a minute in the scheme of things., but it gets me out of my routine. Our sophisticated surveillance systems are online. At times, I have to organize numerous men in many locations physically. It’s enough work for two people. I needed a break.

Kirill’s skill set is more brutal than mine, hence the reason why he works with the enforcers. He’s not a computer sleuth like me. I joke when I tell him his mother must have caused his anger issues. I’ve seen him in action, beating a target to a bloody pulp and leaving him with a head covered with hematomas and a broken jaw. We had many long weekends in Miami over long holiday weekends. His family used college to give him real-life exercises. I learned a few things from him but lacked his years of martial arts training.

He recently called me to help him in an official capacity. I have the blessing of his boss, Mikhail Pasnov. This wouldn’t be the first time an outsider looking at their books and tracking digital footprints is more successful than their own men. I won’t have preconceived notions of who it can’t be due to family ties or loyalty within the Bratva. I don’t have any family in Alexsei Sidovo’s Bratva. He is rumored to be one scary motherfucker. Even by my definition, he’s someone to be feared.

In my book, there is no such thing as absolute loyalty. I have few friends, so Kirill and my brothers are extremely special. I trust them, and only them. Outsiders are unknown variables and make me uncomfortable.

Kirill pulls up before a high rise, and the building screams security.

“What’s this?”

“Your crash pad. It’s my secret safe house, so don’t let anyone follow you here. The place is equipped with upgrades.”

I’m sure he doesn’t mean tile and granite countertops.

I give him a sideways glance and furrow my eyebrows.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?” I am not getting involved in a New York City turf war, especially if he knows a shit show is coming.

“I’m legit, bro. We have no idea who is stealing from us or why. This is why we called in someone who doesn’t know our guys. We need your unbiased analysis.” He tosses me a key card, and I watch him punch in his code. “It’s registered under a name that’s not Russian and can’t be traced to me. It would take years of government over time to track this.”

He leads me up a private elevator to the eleventh floor of fifteen, and my card opens the door to a lavish condo with the city’s landscape below. It’s breathtaking. Yes, the place is fresh with a makeover, considering these buildings were constructed over one hundred years ago.

I let out a low whistle. “This had to set you back a few pennies.”

He chuckles. “I report to the don’s advisor. It has its perks. It’s for Mikhail if shit happens, but I use it as my private getaway to decompress because I live with my parents. I doubt you’d want to stay with me,” he explains as he flips a switch that illuminates the overhead recessed lighting and the lights under the countertops.

“If Mikhail picked this place, he’s got great taste. It’s insane.”

I leave my luggage by the door and slide out of my shoes, leaving them in the entryway before walking through the kitchen to the living room. My toes sink into the plush white carpet as I stare out the huge picture window overlooking Washington Park. The condo is pristine. Everything is white.

Ironically, more blood gets shed under the advisor’s directives than the Brigadier’s.

“I hope you brought some dress clothes in that garment bag because we’re going to Club Sixty-Nine tonight.”

Hearing Club69mid-swallow, I almost choke on my own spit.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Great name, right? My boss’s daughter will be there.”

“You fucking her?” I quiz him.

“Hell no, I’d be crazy to do that. She’s just out of college. She’s nice and fun, but I’d never touch her. I fuck other girls.” He grabs a glass and fills it with tap water. “Gee, you must be hungry. Let’s grab some food. You name it. I’ll take you to it.”

Watching him drink the tap water, I wonder if he’s working tonight. Kirill is the man for the job if this girl needs protecting. He’s so honorable that her daddy won’t worry about her safety or anyone getting in her pants.

How was I to know how incorrect my assumptions were?

2

IZZY

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