Page 54 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

She’s been different these past few days. Distant. Distracted. The usual spark in her eyes when she looks at me has dimmed, replaced by something I can’t quite decipher. Worry? Fear? Whatever it is, it gnaws at me like an itch I can’t scratch.

I turn from the window, pacing the length of my office. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps, but it does nothing to quiet the thoughts spinning through my mind. Claire’s become more than just an employee, more than just a way to settle her brother’s debt. She’s wormed her way under my skin, past the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around myself.

I’d do anything to protect her. I want some indication she feels the same way, but her recent behavior has me worried.

A knock at the door interrupts my brooding. “Come in,” I call out, schooling my features into a mask of cool indifference.

Dmitri enters, his face grim. He closes the door behind him and approaches my desk. “I’ve got an update on the Bennett situation.”

I nod, gesturing for him to continue as I take a seat behind my imposing desk.

“Our guard contact inside the prison reports the Petrov Syndicate’s imprisoned members are still shadowing and harassing Jay, but the boy remains mum. He’s still not talking to anyone, even the cellmate on our payroll.”

I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin. “And what of Matvey? Any movement on his end?”

Dmitri shakes his head. “Nothing concrete. He’s been quiet, which worries me more than if he was making noise. You know how he operates—the calm before the storm.”

I do know. Matvey Petrov is a snake, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation, and I’ve given him more than enough reason to want me dead. “Thank you, Dmitri,” I say, softening my tone. “Keep me updated on any developments with Jay or Matvey.”

“Will do, boss.” With that, he turns and leaves.

I wish he could take my worries and fears with him. Instead, I pour another splash of Dewars and settle back in my chair to brood.

The next morning,the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the silence of my office. Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen. I answer immediately.

“What is it?”

He sounds tense. “Boss, we’ve got a situation at the port. You need to come down here now.”

I’m already on my feet, grabbing my coat. “Give me details.”

“Two of our guys were found dead this morning. The Petrov symbol was left on the bodies.”

My jaw clenches. “I’m on my way. Have the area secured.” I end the call and stride out of my office. As I pass Claire reading on the couch, I hesitate. She looks up, her eyes questioning. “I have to go out,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “I’ll be back later.”

She nods, but I catch a flicker of concern in her expression. I push away the urge to reassure her and head for the elevator.

The drive to the port is tense. My mind races with possibilities, each scenario grimmer than the last. Matvey Petrov is making his move, and I need to be ready. I arrive at the docks, where Dmitri waits for me, his face grim.

“Where are they?” I ask, following him through a maze of shipping containers.

“Over here.” He leads me to a secluded area between two stacks of containers.

The sight that greets me makes my blood boil. Two of my men lie sprawled on the ground, their throats slit. The Petrov symbol—a stylized bear claw—is carved into their chests. I crouch down, examining the bodies. The cuts are precise and professional. This wasn’t some random act of violence. It was a message.

“Who found them?” I ask, standing up.

“One of our dock workers. He’s been questioned and cleared.”

I nod, already formulating a plan. “We need to clean this up fast. Get our cleanup crew here now. I want no trace left behind.” He pulls out his phone, making the necessary calls. I survey the area, looking for any clues the Petrovs might have left behind.

“Boss,” calls out one of my men. He’s holding up a small, metallic object. “Found this near the bodies.”

I take it from him, turning it over in my hand. It’s a cufflink, engraved with the Petrov family crest. My lips curl into a snarl. Matvey is taunting me.

“Bag it,” I order. “We’ll analyze it later.”

The cleanup crew arrives within minutes, efficiently removing all evidence of the gruesome scene. I watch them work, my mind churning with possible retaliations. “Dmitri,” I call. He’s at my side instantly. “I want every piece of intel we have on the Petrovs’ current operations, and double the security on all our shipments.”

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