Page 28 of Arranged Control
I step out of the pool of blood. My shoes leave sticky red prints as I wander a few feet away, scraping my soles against the pavement.
“Someone’s targeting us.” Finn looks grim as he glances over his shoulder. “Think we need to warn everyone?”
“Not yet. It’ll only panic the clan, and things are precarious enough already.”
“But it might save lives?”
“Scaring everyone won’t help. Until we know what we’re dealing with, we tell everyone this was just another freak mugging gone wrong.”
Finn doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t have to. I’m in charge of street operations, and this technically falls under my control.
I know how the family can get. Rumors turn into bigger rumors, and soon people are whispering about some Irish-hating serial killer on the loose. Then we get guys panicking, wandering around armed to the teeth, twitching at shadows, and trigger happy. There will be more deaths unless we manage to contain this quickly.
As we’re leaving together, my father comes walking toward us with Taras Morozov at his elbow. Dad gives me a tight nod as he shows Taras the body. The Russian brigadier stares down at thecorpse, jaw twitching slightly. His face seems too pale, and it’s clear he’s freaked out.
Which makes me pause. What the hell is bothering that guy so much?
It’s not like he’s some new recruit seeing a dead body for the first time.
Taras Morozov is in his late thirties. He’s a veteran of the underground, and I know for a fact he’s made corpses worse than this one. The crossed-out eyes are nasty, but not particularly terrible.
“What’s bothering you?” I ask him as my brother and father watch on.
Taras starts slightly and looks back at me. “Nothing. It’s nothing. You knew this man?”
“He was a good soldier. No reason why anyone would want to kill him.”
“Trouble with any Russians, perhaps?” Taras seems very disturbed. He steps back from the pool of blood, staring at Michael’s ruined face.
I glance at Finn, who just shrugs and shakes his head. “Not that we know about.”
“The eyes…” Taras trails off. He takes a deep breath and turns his back on the body. “The eyes are a message. They are a very old symbol. Back in Russia, Bratvas would make crosses over the eyes of their victims as a way to say all those in this bloodline are now marked for dead. And they would very often follow through with that threat.”
“Are you saying Michael’s family is in danger?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, meeting my gaze. “But I would warn them and keep an eye on them for a while.”
“I’ll tell Sean,” Finn says and jogs off.
“How are we supposed to feel about this?” Dad says, doing his best to remain calm and level. While all I want to do is slam this Russian fuck’s face against the wall until his head cracks like a coconut. “One of my men got murdered on my son’s wedding day. He was killed in some Russian hit style I’ve never heard of.”
“It’s my sister’s wedding day as well.” Taras squares his shoulders. “We had nothing to do with this. I can swear to that on my name and my family.”
“For what that’s worth,” I mutter.
Taras’s eyes flash with anger and Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll talk to Ruslan later. Thank you for telling us what you know.”
“I know our families have had issues in the past, but we are trying to put that behind us.” Taras keeps glaring at me, hate burning in his face. “It isn’t so easy for me.”
He storms off, leaving me alone with my father and poor dead Michael.
“You don’t have to piss them off, you know.” Dad watches Taras for a moment before lightly pushing my shoulder. “What was that comment all about?”
“You know the Morozovs. They’re fucking snakes.”
“Everyone’s a snake in this business.”
“At least we have the good grace to stab people in the front.”
