Page 5 of Sinful Promise

“I won’t, but I’m going to check out his operations. We need to send a message of some kind. It has to be done.”

“I’m worried you’re still too angry, but I know you’d never hurt us with your actions. You’re normally disciplined and patient. But you’re young, and when I least expect it, you’re impetuous. Wait for the opportunity. It might not be resolved immediately. Don’t let your anger trip you up.”

“I won’t.” I’m flippant with my response. I’m not impetuous. I’m disciplined until I decide I want to fuck off, and then I become adventurous. Well, to me, it’s my adventurous side. I’m a methodical man, a man of detail, but I have my limits. And this vacation is long overdue. I need to decompress. It’s been an eventful year.

“I’ll handle the shitshow here,” Nikolay says. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

We hang up, and I sink back into the leather chair with wheels. Who is this Ratmim, and what is he hiding? Everyone has secrets, and secrets are power. Guns are in short supply. He made a bold move.

I wonder who he is connected to and what his sons are like. I hear they are brutal. When it comes to torturing their enemies, the Belarusian mafia has no loyalties. They come into Russia, but they’re known to have an escape hatch in Belarus. Our countries used to be one, so we all speak Russian. They won’t speak badly of Russia but have a veil of protection in Belarus. I look at them as cowards. They plunder and steal, and then they hide.

They are thieves with no moral code, which is where we’re different. Our intel on them is weak. I don’t want to disturb Dmitry. I’m sure he would be useful, but he’s a newlywed. I decide I’ll handle this on my own.

I know I’m acting quickly when I should take my time. But as I twiddle the picture of Ratmim between my fingers, I wonder—how difficult can it be to get my boots on the ground? I can spy on him. We live every day knowing that we could meet untimely deaths with one wrong move and never see it coming. It happened to Dad, and it’s a constant reminder to choose friends wisely and stick to your rules.

Our rules keep us safe. I keep my emotions in check, and my calm head remains attached.

I call Alex.

“We’re going on a trip,” I inform him.

“We have to be careful.” He’s my fucking work wife. The man can read my mind.

“Nikolay knows we’re just looking for information.”

“And…” He pauses. Alex has been known to reel me in on many occasions, all of them vodka-related. He’s reserved and appears to have few emotions, but I see through him. No one knows Alex like I do.

“We’re not breaking rules. If they don’t know it’s us, we’ll all get what we want. I want to make them hurt. Ratmim took what he wanted, now I’m going to take something from him.”

I sit pensively. We will go to Belarus and take out one of his sons. If it looks like an accident, there will be no war.

“Fine. I’ll pack my gear,” Alex says enthusiastically.

“Thanks. I’ll charter a flight to Minsk.”

“Text me the details. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” Alex says. “You know I never go anywhere without enough firepower to blow ourselves out.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, and you’re there to keep me out of trouble,” I reply with sarcasm.

I hang up the phone and think of Nikolay in London. He spends all his time there while I run operations locally under his direction. I couldn’t care less about hobnobbing with business partners. I prefer to carry out hits on people. I carefully study my target and wait for the opportune moment to pull the trigger. Mission accomplished.

I’ve learned to be patient in order to be perfect. I’m not sure how to hurt this enemy, aside from taking a son, but I’ll find something. When I get to Minsk, I will weigh my options and make sure we don’t attract a hit squad. Our country has a way of making moves that are never seen or anticipated. It’s how I operate myself, using our government’s playbook to our advantage.

I look at the family pictures still on the desk. In one, we’re hunting in Alaska, all of us. It was a fun trip. I like the challenge of a perfect shot. Oddly, I didn’t learn my profession from Dad. Artemy was my mentor and a lifelong friend of Dad’s. I respected the fact that he knew how to live off the land. He taught me how to hunt and shoot. I wanted to learn more about the world in which I lived, so when I was older, I traveled with him and his friends.

We would sit in pubs and hotel rooms, devising unique ways to make our hits untraceable. I love researching, planning, and watching the pieces fall into place. It’s like solving a puzzle. I have a keen sense of people. I can tell if they are empathetic, confident, or ruthless. Knowing what makes a person tick is easy when their desires are known.

I wish I knew what made women tick. Most women want me because of my cock and the fact that I look good on paper.

I shove the thought of women aside. A wife would be a liability.

I return Ratmim’s picture to the file cabinet and notice a photo of Dad and a man at a political event. The man seems oddly familiar. I turn the picture over and see a date. I was too young then to remember, but Dad took Grandpa’s business to new levels around that time. In hindsight, I wonder how Dad became so successful.

I toss the picture back into the file and walk to the door. Turning, I take one last look at the room, imagining us all here together with Dad. before I flip the light switch off.

Tomorrow is another day. I will find Ratmim’s weakness and make him pay.

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