Page 42 of Unfulfilled Promises
My eyes grew wide at the realization. He was rebuilding the Syndicate as he was actively testifying for the government to dismantle the Syndicate. He was playing both ends against the middle, and no one knew what he was planning.
“Where’s the son?” I whispered, glancing around like this was the best story ever and I didn’t want to be overheard.
“He’s been in boarding school, but he graduated a few months ago. Over the years, I’ve taken him to initiations and meetings, so he knew what was expected of him. He’s become quite the connoisseur of certain . . . specialties at such a young age. It’s astonishing.”
I’d never seen him impressed, so I was confused. Biting my lip, Sergey tilted his head to observe me. He flicked his fingers, telling me to speak, so I cautiously asked, “Why do you need someone else to help you rule?”
“There is one rule I could never get past, no matter how hard I tried. All the families are bound by blood to abide it, and that was part of the oath at initiation.” I gave him a confused look, so he explained. “The Syndicate can’t be controlled by one family. There has to be at least three members from the original bloodlines to rule. I’m one, I have a second, and I’m close to finding a third. Once I do, and all this testifying is done, then,” he sighed and leaned back, linking his fingers together behindhis head as he seemed to relish in his impending power, “I can rebuild the empire I was destined to control and the weak little boys under me will do my bidding.”
Offering him a smile, we both turned when we heard an agent doing his walk-by outside the office. He left, and I picked a piece of my cupcake off and popped it into my mouth. Sergey looked around and then to me as he asked, “What else do you want to know?”
“Why . . . never mind,” I finished, and he shook his head.
“Ask your question, little one. I may never be this gracious again.”
“How come you can’t get to the money you acquired from the families?” I looked around the room and remarked, “I mean, this place is nice, but if we had some of the money, we could have room service.”
I’d been confused for months about his statements regarding the money. He spoke of how he’d been shifting the money before the Feds moved in and made arrests, and the one time I asked if Ricardo was helping, he laughed and said that asshole wasn’t good enough to be involved in the financials.
“I moved the last of the money into offshore accounts last month, and until I can get down there with my information, it’s untouchable. No one can get to it, and unless they have the passwords, they’ll be locked out forever.”
He laughed, and I joined in, curious how he thought he was getting out of the country without his electronic leash the Feds attached to him last month. He decided to go for a drive and the agents at the house were going out of their mind looking for him. They put the monitor on him the next day, and if my guess was correct, he had years of testimony to go.
“So, the other two families are waiting for you to be done here, then they’ll be ready,” I clarified, not asked, and he gave me a satisfied nod.
“There are a few people I’ll have to throw some bucks at once I’m free of my leash, but they’re a non-issue.”
Giving an understanding nod, I sat silent in front of him as he rambled on, no longer wanting me to ask questions. I felt like there were times he wanted me to be in awe of him, and during those needy moments, I would indulge his diva desires. The sun was setting outside the office windows when one of the agents walked to the open doorway.
“We need to secure the house for the night. There’s an early start tomorrow,” the man said.
Sergey and I stood from our seats, and he placed his hand on my elbow to guide me from the room and up the stairs. Our rooms were on opposite sides of the hallway, and as I stepped in front of my door, I heard him say my real name.
“Regan,” he began, and I turned around. “Happy Birthday, little one.”
“Thank you,” I replied as he opened the door and stepped inside before closing it and leaving me alone in the hallway.
An agent walked by and nodded into my room, and I sighed before opening the door and sealing myself inside. Sitting near the door, I listened for any sounds, and once I was sure there wasn’t anyone outside my room, I went to the small closet and opened it. Kneeling, I reached into the back corner and, with minimal effort, I pulled back the corner of the carpet and slid the baseboard to the side. Reaching in with my fingertips, I worked until I felt the little black book I’d hidden inside on the first day we arrived.
Pulling it out, I let the moonlight filtering through the window behind me provide illumination as I documented what Sergey told me tonight alongside the numbers he made me repeat every morning before I was allowed to eat. It was four sets of twelve numbers, and he had drilled them into my memory. I didn’t know what they were for, but something toldme they were important, so I documented them and everything else he told me.
This was the little book I’d managed to smuggle every time we had to relocate, and I just hoped I would be able to keep up with it long enough to escape. Then I could use it against Sergey and take everything he values from him.
Money and power.
The sound of elevated voices in the distance had me trying to pull myself from the thick fog I was swimming in. Here, there was no pain, no betrayal, no worry, but the angry voices were dragging me back to reality, a place I wasn’t fond of some days.
I felt a hand on my ankle and heard a small voice whisper, “Wake up, Regan. That man is here and everyone’s mad.”
I could hear fear in the person’s voice, and I struggled to blink my eyes open. The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the pain in my head as the thumping intensified. Feeling sick, I rolled over and threw up whatever was in my stomach onto the floor as the little voice yelled for help.
Someone ran into the room and physically rolled me back onto the bed as a cold compress was placed onto my forehead. It felt wonderful as the person wiped over my face, cooling me and reducing my headache some. The hand on my ankle gripped a little harder as I heard a voice through the haze.
“Regan, it’s Rhys. I need you to wake up.”
Trying and failing to blink, I rolled my head to the side as a hand brushed hair off my forehead.
“Who are you?” Rhys asked someone as I pushed harder to snap out of the fog.
