Page 18 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

“Okay, okay, I promise. But let me know if you need me, and I’ll find a way to come to you as quickly as I can.”

“Sure, Mom. Take care of yourself, okay? I love you.” I hung up immediately and made a sign of the cross. At least I was certain she wouldn’t get on the next available flight and come to New York; that counted for something.

I rolled out of bed and went downstairs for breakfast. As usual, Andrei wasn’t home. We’d not shared a single meal together since I got here, and he was hardly ever around. He usually went out before I woke up and returned in the dead of the night when everyone else was sleeping.

As much as I tried to keep out of his business, my curiosity was piqued. I wanted to know where he went each day and why he always came home so late. I was certain it had something to do with mafia business, but what was so important that he couldn’t handle it during the day like every normal person?

I filled my plate with food—bacon, toast, sausages, and scrambled eggs. The breakfast on the table was enough to serve a family of five; Andrei never ate anyway, so I didn’t see any use for the excess. I guess that was how rich people ate. Every meal was prepared like a feast.

I served myself a cup of hot coffee and took the first bite of my bacon. It was well-seasoned and soft to chew, just the way I liked it.

While I wanted to enjoy my breakfast, I couldn’t help the way my thoughts drifted to Dad and everything that had happened so far. I wondered what he’d been thinking in his last moments and if he’d somehow known he didn’t have very long to live. Was that why he insisted he needed to see me?

And the text about Tyfun-1, what the hell did it mean? What message was he trying to pass? I knew it had something to do with where he hid it, but it didn’t make any sense, no matter how much I thought about it.

“The Typhoon’s eye holds the calm,”played on a loop inside my head. What the hell did he mean by Typhoon’s eyes and the calm? I knew it was a clue, but how was I supposed to figure out what it meant?

I sighed, digging my fork into one of the sausages and chewing aggressively as my thoughts went all over the place.

Dad scheduled that message hours before his death, which meant he was being followed, and he knew it. He wanted me to find where he hid Tyfun-1; he wouldn’t have sent me a text otherwise.

But why me? Why did he trust me with something so important and dangerous?

He was the only person who could answer those questions, and he was dead now. What was I supposed to do?

There was so much to unfold.

So much mystery.

Chapter 8 – Andrei

The bass thrummed through the floor, pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath my feet. Neon lights flickered in rhythmic flashes, painting the private lounge in hues of red and gold.

We were at Moroz Lounge, one of our newest investments in New York, and Egor had put me in charge of it. I always came here at night when I needed to wind down, and Dobryn was in charge of supplying the women who would entertain us.

Tonight wasn’t any different. Dobryn had a group of girls over, two women for each man. They draped over the plush leather seats, their laughter a soft hum against the pounding music as they did their best to catch our interest. It was always like that, every woman around here trying to please us; some of them would lay on their backs and allow us to walk on them if it meant they could win our favor. It was boring as fuck having to deal with that.

One ran her fingers along the sleeve of my jacket. She had a sly smile on her face as she whispered something I couldn’t even make out into my ears.

Usually, I’d be turned on by her enough to fuck her once, wanting to let out some of the dangerous steam that had grown through the day from handling mafia business.

But tonight was different. I barely acknowledged her presence or her touch. If anything, I was repelled by it. My mind was too busy thinking of someone else.

Giselle, my little prisoner.

I wondered what she was doing at home right now—if she found relief in the fact that I was away, or if she would prefer to have me around a little more. I could guess the former was the case. I hadn’t seen her much since she moved into my mansionfour days ago; with Peter dead and Tyfun-1 missing, I was busier than usual.

“You’re distracted.” Dobryn’s voice cut through the noise as he leaned back with a drink in hand, watching me with knowing eyes.

I exhaled sharply, picking up my glass but not drinking from it. “Just thinking.”

“Let me take a guess, you’re thinking about the girl,” Miron suggested, his dark eyes catching the flickering neon light.

I didn’t answer. But we both knew it was her I was thinking of. No woman had ever struck me the way Giselle did; no woman had ever managed to invade my head so much in such a short amount of time. There was something about that girl, and I hoped I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, though I had a feeling I would shoot anyone who thought of her in a way that wasn’t proper.

Dobryn nodded to the women, signaling for them to leave.

They obeyed, their heels clicking against the tiles as they made their way to the dance floor.

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