Page 26 of Thorns of Lust
I didn’t bother to watch how the video ended. After all, I’d been there that day, so I knew firsthand. Instead, I got straight to work. Logging into my computer, I started tracking it. It went to North Korea, then to Japan, London, even Russia, only to end up back in the U.S.
In New Orleans.
The IP address that belonged to Tatiana Nikolaev. The very same one that used to belong to Adrian. Motherfucking shit.
There was no way she could be part of it. Either she hid her IT talent brilliantly or someone was trying to frame her.
Just as the video came to an end, the IP addresses disappeared, leaving in its wake only a black screen.
“Anything?” Marchetti asked through clenched teeth.
“Same shit,” I responded, keeping my cool. “The IP address bounced around then got wiped.” My eyes traveled to the window that overlooked the city I ruled. The state I ruled. The whole fucking coastline. There was no better play to hide corrupted shit than in Hollywood. And in D.C. but that was a different story. One ran by Nico Morelli.
“But?” Marchetti prompted. We’d worked together long enough to know how the other thought..
“But this time the starting point was Japan,” I told him. “The starting point was always the U.S. in the past. It’s peculiar that it’s suddenly Japan.”
Tension rolled through me like an avalanche ready to explode.
The truth was it had nothing to do with these videos. This shit was part of our everyday work. We’d find the culprit. We’d eliminate the culprit. We’d move on and someone else would try to fuck with us, only for us to end that person.
It was the way of life.
My tension had everything to do with a grieving widow across the country. I had waited years for her. Bided my time. Waited for the opportune moment. The moment I learned it was her husband who was fucking with our organization, I knew I had found it.
I didn’t hesitate to end him. I’d do it again without a second thought.
Because Tatiana Nikolaev was my queen. And the king always eliminates the threat to his queen.
ELEVEN
TATIANA
Ilooked out the window of the penthouse, my fingers twisting the thorned rose pendant necklace in my hand. Somehow that piece of jewelry seemed a lot more than a Christmas gift now. And all the while the videos I had watched played on replay in my mind.
Initially I thought it was a mistaken delivery, but now, I was certain it was sent to me by Adrian.
He must have anticipated what was to come. Heknewhe was about to die.
“What did you get yourself into, Adrian?” I whispered as I clipped the necklace around my neck. It had something to do with those videos. I was sure of it. They had been plaguing my mind for days.
There was damning evidence in there. Against many people, my brothers included. The question was why did my husband have those videos? I was under no illusions that my brothers or anyone else in the underworld didn’t do some shady stuff. Or kill people.
Call me morally ambiguous or a hypocrite but that didn’t bother me.
The unwritten rule of not killing innocents, women, and children let me sleep at night. So my moral compass was skewed a bit - fucking sue me.
But some of the things I’d seen on that video still hit a very uncomfortable mark. It was easier to be okay with it when you never had to witness it. Having a front seat to it was an entirely different thing.
I let out a heavy breath.
If those videos were anything to go by, the pool of suspects was vast and included my own brothers. Could I avenge Adrian against my own brothers? Were my brothers capable of killing my husband?
Yes, they were. But they’d never hurt me. I came out of the accident in bad shape so that eliminated my brothers as suspects. They'd be more likely to barge into our home and shoot Adrian point blank than risk a car chase with me in the vehicle.
The doorbell rang and pulled me out of my thoughts. Glancing at the clock, I noted it was barely eight o’clock in the morning. Unease slithered through me. Maybe someone learned that I watched those videos and had evidence against them.
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
