Page 2 of Unfulfilled Promises
One year later
“I went over all the records you gave me this morning and I think I found another potential member,” I remarked to Sergey, and he reached over, stroking my chin with a smile.
“That’s my good girl. Have you had a chance to look over the books I had Kelly bring last week?”
Kelly was the woman who believed she was going to be Sergey’s queen, but I knew different. Over the last year, I’d become Sergey’s confidante, his black book, his password keeper, and the one he shared his secrets with. He never hurt me. Instead, he made sure I was protected from his . . . business endeavors, and when he was near, I felt strangely safe.
Kelly was serving her purpose on the outside while he continued to keep his word by testifying against the various members of the now-defunct Syndicate. He planned to rebuild his new Syndicate into something more powerful and more profitable than before, but he had to finish his obligations to the government before he got his second chance.
“I went through everything and . . .” I paused, not wanting to give him bad news, but I knew he would be pissed if I kept anything from him.
“And?” he asked, and I turned to look at him.
“And I believe she’s being . . . inappropriate with Ricardo.”
I cast my eyes down, and he lifted my chin until I was looking at him. “Tell me why you think that.”
I swallowed and began to explain. “Call it a hunch, but something’s off with them. When they’re here, they look to eachother more than she looks to you, and I may be wrong, but it seems like they’re too friendly with each other.”
He shrugged as he stood from the chair in my bedroom. “Her only job is to get Sergey Junior to his initiation and to keep him safe. If she wants to fuck Ricardo, or half the men who frequent her whorehouse, I frankly couldn’t care less.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of my head, the most amount of affection he ever showed me, as he added, “I wasn’t planning on keeping her around after I’m finished with my testimony.”
He went to walk out of my room when I asked, “You weren’t?”
He turned back to face me as he replied, “She’s never going to be the queen she thinks she is, and soon, she’ll realize she was just an end to a means.”
He smiled at me, and I returned the gesture before he walked out, leaving me alone in my room. We’d been in this safehouse for a few days, and it was nicer than the last place we were in. The FBI allowed me to be with Sergey after he told them I was his daughter and that he needed to keep me safe while the families were still hunting for him.
Ricardo was playing both sides of the game, working for the FBI to deliver Sergey’s testimony while he was secretly neck-deep in Sergey’s plans for the new Syndicate. He knew the truth about me being here, and he helped keep me Sergey’s hostage. The look in his eyes when he was close to me said he was someone who couldn’t be trusted, but Sergey kept him around for a reason.
No one knew that Sergey confided everything in me, and over the last year, he and I had become somewhat friends. I listened to him tell me stories about the families, who was involved, who had mistresses and secret children, who was buried where, and where all the money was hidden, and all thewhile, I was storing it in my brain and my little black book, hoping to be able to use it to destroy him one day.
I may have looked like an obedient lap dog to Sergey, but I was still biding my time and waiting for the opportunity to escape the nightmare he’d dragged me into. Over the last year, I’d learned a few things about him, and the biggest one was that he underestimated me.
Last month, we visited the whorehouse Kelly ran, and I was disgusted by the whole thing. She was making money off these women’s pain, and Sergey ran the whole thing from the shadows, just waiting for his chance to rise back to the top of the pyramid. There wasn’t anything I could do for the women there, and most of them seemed to be okay with the arrangement—drugs for sex and the money flowed.
A few days ago, Sergey and I sat down after dinner to talk, like we did most nights, and after he had a few too many drinks, he began to ramble, which was unlike him. He spoke of his son, Lucian, and how he was supposed to rule the kingdom but was turned against him by the Feds. He complained that it wasn’t fair he was being made to testify, and that if Lucian had remained loyal, none of this would be happening.
Then, he spoke of another son, long gone, who he’d used to gain favor with another family. They’d had a son who was paranoid with severe mental issues, so they gave him a small territory in Tennessee, and Sergey gave his son, Devlin, to that man. In exchange, Sergey was given a larger cut of the Syndicate’s profits and the chance to initiate another son.
He complained that Devlin had killed the paranoid man, took over his empire, and used that to become a household name. Sergey stated directly that if Devlin wasn’t so visible, he’d go after him and the ‘stolen’ fortune he was now worth. Devlin killing the man had caused Sergey a lot ofblowback from the other family, and the Syndicate demanded reparations for the death.
He got a future heir to the throne, but there was a catch—he had to offer his daughter to the families. His youngest child, Stella, whom I’d met at my brother’s house when she was recuperating from something horrible, was the offering, and he said she was the catalyst to all future deals, businesses, and now, expansion and growth. His new empire was built on her pain, and for a microsecond, I swear I saw remorse in his eyes at the mention of her name.
Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and the belligerent, boastful Sergey was back. “Now, if I can get through the next two trials, I get my new identity, Sergey Junior gets his initiation, and I get my Syndicate. All those families working for me, gaining new territory, new revenue streams, and there is no one to stop me.”
His words trailed off, and I saw his blue eyes were closed and the glass in his hand was starting to slip from his grasp. I reached over and carefully pulled it from his hand and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. I pulled the covers up over him and turned off the light before walking out of the room and closing the door behind me. His snore came through the door, and I rolled my eyes as I walked the two doors down to my room and went inside, securing the lock.
Sometime a few hours later, I was awoken by a noise. Carefully, I got out of bed and walked to the window. I saw someone moving in the shadows, and my heart rate increased with fear, thinking someone was coming to hurt Sergey and, by proxy, me. As quickly as I could, I unlocked and opened my door and scurried down the hall to Sergey’s door.
Knocking twice, I opened the door and whisper-yelled, “Sergey, wake up.”
He was unusually quiet, and I knew something was wrong. Walking closer to his side of the bed, I reached out to turn on his lamp when my foot stepped in something warm and sticky and I slipped onto the floor. Whatever it was, there was a lot of it, and my hands began to tremble as I pushed up from the floor, saying his name again.
“Sergey.”
Slowly, I reached up and turned on the lamp, and the bloodbath in front of me forced a scream from my throat. Someone had slit Sergey’s throat, and his blood was pouring off the bed and onto the floor at my feet. His blue eyes were cold, and I knew he was gone. Whoever I saw, they had already killed him and were on their way out.
My screams brought the guards, and within an hour, Ricardo showed up to usher me away before the FBI arrived to see the clusterfuck of Sergey’s murder. I thought for sure I would be let go, but Ricardo, without Sergey to guide him, took me to Kelly.
