Page 64 of Porcelain Lies

“You ok? Been gone a while.”

I pull over, unable to text and drive with my trembling hands.

“On my way. Got the money.”

The reply comes instantly:

“You’re the best sister ever. I don’t deserve you.”

A harsh laugh escapes my throat, the sound foreign and broken. He has no idea what those words mean now. What they cost.

I pull back onto the road, mechanically following the familiar route home. The city lights swim through my tears, but I blink them away. I can’t let Nick see me cry. Can’t let him suspect.

This burden is mine alone to bear.

Chapter Nineteen

Aleksei

I settle back at my desk, phone at my ear, my eyes narrowing as I listen to Sasha’s report.

Three hundred thousand. Gone. And we still don’t have our hands on the little cunt who took it.

My jaw clenches at the thought of Nico and Gianni both having access to those accounts.

“No sign of him?” My voice comes out deadly quiet.

“We had him, boss. But he slipped through our fingers and—”

“Slipped through your fucking fingers?” I slam my palm against the desk. “Blyad!What the fuck am I paying you for?”

Silence on the line. Good. Let him sweat.

“He must’ve known we were coming—”

“Because my own men were too incompetent to find one littlepizdawho’s barely cut his teeth in this business.” I run a hand over my stubble, containing the urge to throw something. “First the shipment goes missing, now this shit. Do I need to start replacing people, Sasha?”

“No, boss. We’ll handle it.”

“Like you handled the security protocols?” Ice coats each word. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head myself.”

“We’re tracking the money now. Preliminary traces show—”

“I don’t want traces. I want results.” My free hand curls into a fist. “Find him. And when you do, bring him to me personally.”

I end the call before Sasha can respond. Twice now, my operations have been compromised by sloppy oversight. Pure incompetence.

My reputation cannot afford such weakness. The other families are watching, waiting for any sign of vulnerability. And now these cretins have given them exactly that.

I lean back in my chair, memories of Larkin’s death report flickering through my mind. Another fuckup. The coward took the easy way out. We should have crippled him, not kill him.

The image of his broken body crushed beneath his vehicle should satisfy me. But it doesn’t. I wanted him to suffer, to experience the same helplessness my son faces every day because of his drunken negligence. Instead, he got the quick way out.

“Chert.” The curse escapes through clenched teeth. And then, there’s his wife. Thesepizdascouldn’t even handle Larkin without his wife witnessing it.

Sasha’s text alert pulls me from these useless thoughts. More problems with the missing shipment. I force my attention to the present crisis, pushing aside old grievances that can’t be settled now.

The immediate threat demands focus. Three hundred thousand missing, weapons unaccounted for, and a network compromised by either stupidity or betrayal. This requires swift, decisive action before our competitors catch wind of the weakness.

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