“We’re looking for her too,” he screamed like a woman. I paused my movement and waited for him to continue. “Pakhan is looking for her too,” he repeated, panting. “We want her and her mother back.”
“You don’t have her?” I asked to ensure there are no misunderstandings.
He shook his head, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. “We thought they were dead, until recently. We got a tip that she lived. Aisling Brennan and her daughter.” Then he laughed, slightly crazy and psychotic, coughed out blood. “It was your father who gave us the tip in exchange for a bride. He wants to grow your power.”
Fuck. Me.
Rage boiled inside me, consuming me. Just as the blood of this motherfucker soaked through my clothes, so did the hate I had for my father. I didn’t think I could hate him more. I was so fucking wrong.
“He wanted an alliance, a marriage arrangement between DiLustro and Volkov,” he continued, spitting blood all over himself.
“Which DiLustro?” I asked, my voice strangely calm.
“Don’t know. He never said. Pakhan refused his despicable offer. Volkov wouldn’t further dilute the bloodline with DiLustros,” he choked out, then coughed again. “Brennans were bad enough.”
I didn’t fucking care about their bloodline. Wynter was mine. I was fucking desperate to rip into him and end his miserable life. But I couldn’t do it too soon.
“What else?” I bit out, the fury simmering through my veins.
“Our men followed you two in Philly, but then they lost you.” The black Land Rover. The men Priest and I tortured. “We were so close. And now she disappeared again. You and your father are to blame.”
It was all I needed to know. The Russians didn’t have her.
This time I gripped his throat and squeezed as hard as I could until the veins in his eyes began to pop and I felt bones in his throat crushing under the force of my grip. He kept fighting. Goddamn Russian’s had thick necks. So I brought up my knife with the other hand and sliced him ear-to-ear.
I watched the light extinguish in his eyes and his blood soak my hands.
Breathing harshly, I turned to find the waitress watching me with sheer terror in her eyes. I couldn’t blame her.
“I won’t hurt you,” I rasped. “You can leave or I can help you disappear. Your choice.”
She blinked. Once, twice. “My mother is the cook.”
“Both of you then,” I offered, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.
Where are you, Wynter?
CHAPTER38
Wynter
PRESENT
Nine months without Basilio DiLustro.
Counting days without him became part of my routine. Regardless of what was going on in my life.
No matter how brutal the last two months had been.
They had been the most exhausting months of my life. Maybe it was the state of my mind. Even after all this time, Bas was a constant whisper in the back of my mind. Sometimes I even had a full blown conversation with him.
Yes, it was disturbing, but it got me through.
“Man, even when you’re sweaty you look fucking beautiful,” Derek commented.
I smiled at his compliment. I liked Derek, but I worried about showing him that. We went out a few times, but I immediately realized my mistake. To me it was just a friendly way of hanging out and getting comfortable with my partner. To him, it was more.
So whenever we were required to make an appearance at an event or for a sponsor, I dragged my girls with me. Much to their dismay, but they always came through.