Page 56 of Wrong Number. Right Don.
“What the hell was that?” she asks, still breathless. “I swear, this city gets worse every day.”
“I know.” I rub a hand over my face, as if I can scrub away the unease coiling in my gut.
The feeling has been nibbling at the edges of my mind for weeks ever since I met Sergei. Anytime danger so much as brushes my senses, I think of him. I can’t help wondering if he’s involved somehow, if I’m about to be dragged into something ugly. It feels paranoid, but that’s where my mind goes when he refuses to tell me what he really does.
Mia and I sit in stunned silence, letting the adrenaline drain from our systems. Around us, people start to get up, checking on one another, talking in low voices. Someone starts laughing hysterically, fear curdling into something absurd. We all feel the weight of it.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Mia asks, setting her coffee down and eyeing it with sudden distaste. “I just want to crawl into bed and hide under a blanket.”
“Me too,” I admit. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she says quietly, standing up. “That was just a lot.”
I stand up too and give her a long, hard hug.
“Call me the second you get home,” I say. “I need to know you’re safe.”
“I will,” she promises, and I watch her walk out, then text my driver that I’m ready to leave.
23
SERGEI
It’s not even noon and already I’ve had to call in two cleanup crews, one emergency contact at the precinct, and a favor from a man I swore I’d never owe again. All because Semion is hell bent on goading me into a war.
This morning, he attacked my men in broad daylight on a street packed with civilians. It wasn’t just reckless; it was a message aimed squarely at me. He did it to provoke me, to stir fear in my ranks and in the neighborhood we protect. It makes my blood boil. He’s gotten bolder because I haven’t responded strongly enough to his other attacks.
Maybe Sasha was right all along, and I should’ve gone in guns blazing. I can’t let this disrespect go unchecked any longer.
He clearly wants an all-out war. He wants to overtake my territory, to unseat me in my city. He wants to see my blood spilled so he can slide into my place and call it a victory. He doesn’t care how many innocent people have to die to make that happen. He’s the lowest of the low, and I need to stop him.
My jaw tightens as I stare out the window, watching the wind pick up in the garden. A storm is rolling in, in more ways than one. I’ve worked too damn hard to let Semion upend my legacy. I hoped to manage the problem long enough to avoid an open conflict for a while, at least.
This kind of power struggle never ends well. They leave both sides bloodied and civilians dead. When that happens, police get involved, questions get asked, and no one comes out unscathed.
I can’t afford that kind of scrutiny right now, and I doubt Semion can either. What’s his endgame?
“He’s not gonna come to the table,” Sasha mutters from the edge of my desk where he’s sitting. “He’s made that clear. Hell, he’s practically carving up our side of the city already. Today was just him pulling out his dick to show you how big it is.”
“I know that,” I growl.
“I mean, that’s ballsy as fuck. A shootout in broad daylight?” Sasha exhales a hard breath through his nose. “He’s begging for us to respond.”
I rub the back of my neck, tension coiled like steel.
“I don’t want to play into his hands,” I tell him. “I can’t just give him what he wants.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit, though the words taste bitter on my tongue. “But if I make a move too soon, we lose the upper hand.”
“We’ve already lost it,” Sasha counters. “First the drops, now this. And our guys are getting restless. They want to know when we’re going to hit back.”
“Well, seeing as they aren’t in charge, they can cool their heels.” I glance over at him. “And what’s your plan, little brother? You going to pick a fight in the middle of Midtown again? Let Semion beat you bloody a second time?”
He winces, and I know the words land harder than I intended, but I don’t take them back. Sasha’s barely recovered from his run-in with Semion’s men. I can’t let anyone else put their life on the line out of a sense of misplaced pride.
“I was just trying to help,” he mutters.
