Page 1 of Unveiled

Chapter 1

SEMYON

I shakemy head and exit the warehouse, the relentless bite of a Moscow winter hitting me. I pull my coat tighter and check my watch.

Behind me, I hear the telltale sounds of Rodion cleaning up the mess I left—the heavy scrape of a body being dragged across the floor, the dull thump of a weapon hitting the ground, and his unmistakable carefree whistling. Like one of the fucking seven dwarfs.

Only my brother would whistle while running the cleanup crew.

But he’s impeccable, reliable, and takes pride in what he does.

I wasn’t planning on delivering an ass-kicking right before the huge benefit I’m supposed to attend, but here we are.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I flip down the mirror to check myself. My hands are clean, my suit is immaculate, and not a speck of blood mars the fabric. Good.

My phone buzzes, the ringtone unmistakably Rafail’s. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Took longer than I thought.” My jaw tightens as I start the engine. The dickhead had more fight in him than I expected, and I wouldn’t let Rodion intervene. I fight my own battles.

“How’d it go?”

“As good as can be expected. The job’s done.” I blow out a breath and glance at the time. “Got ten minutes to show up fashionably late.”

“Good.” There’s a pause. Too long. I know immediately something’s wrong. He didn’t call to make sure I handled a job. Rafail knows better than that.

“Rafail. What is it?”

My older brother and I are tight and have been since he became our legal guardian after our parents’ deaths. He’s ruled our family with the proverbial iron fist, and as second-oldest, I’m his right-hand man. We don’t waste words or time explaining things to each other.

“I’ve got bad news.”

In the background, I hear Polina, his wife, murmuring in her low, soothing voice. She whispers something in Russian, and Rafail mutters back before speaking to me again.

I grit my teeth. I hate showing up late to anything. I plug theaddress into the GPS and throw the car into reverse. Rodion will get himself there.

When Rafail doesn’t tell me right away, my patience begins to wane. “You wanna tell me, or do you and Polina need to have a little pillow talk first?”

“Semyon,” Rafail says warningly. He’d take any shit I’d throw at him, but bring his wife into it, and he gets his hackles up. Fair.

I put the car into drive and ease onto the road before gunning the engine. “I just kicked someone’s teeth in while making sure I didn’t get any blood on this fucking white shirt, Rafail. Patience? Fresh out.”

Rafail sighs heavily on the other end of the line. “Elizar Borozov was sighted on a plane heading to Costa Rica twelve hours ago. He fucked you over. We’ve had two shipments ambushed and our backup safe house exposed because of him.”

I grip the wheel tighter, a haze of red clouding my vision. Eli. My fucking friend. The kid I grew up with. The one I trusted. Gone, betraying us in the process.

“Are we positive he left?” My best friend has as many enemies as I do.

“Yes.”

I glance at the GPS. Ten minutes out. My voice drops, cold and venomous. “So I’m boarding a plane to Costa Rica tonight.”

I’m already mentally combing the streets.

“No. I wanted to talk to youfirst.”

“What’s there to talk about? Eli was supposed to give us the details on the shipment and the harbor security leak in exchange for pardoning his fucking debt. That was literally all he fucking had to do to keep him off our shitlist. And now you’re telling me he’s gone? Vanished, still owing us four mil?”

This one’s personal.

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