Page 84 of Masked Seduction
CHAPTER 31
ABRAM
Blood dots the white tablecloth like red confetti. The stench of gunpowder hangs over the dining room—sweet, bold, metallic—impossible to ignore. Nico’s shot punched a hole in his own soldier’s leg. I watch steam curl off the barrel, disgusted.
The man hadn’t even regained consciousness after I flattened him. That’s Nico’s idea of loyalty management.
“Trash takes itself out,” he says, waving the muzzle in lazy circles as if he’s bored.
I stay calm, my movements calculated. Rage is a blade you hide until the perfect moment. “Apakhanwho mistreats subordinates and hides behind a woman is nopakhanat all. You’re an immature fool. And that’s why you’ll never be in charge.”
The words cut through him cleanly. I see it in the twitch beneath his left eye. He recovers with a shrug. “Tomorrow. Noon. I’ll text the location. Just you and your brothers-in-law are to attend. Bring anyone else and your curvy toy dies on live stream.” He pumps a finger as if pressing a button. “Boop.”
I lunge for him, but three of his lapdogs shoulder into me. I could drop them and I almost do. But I know if I waste a second fighting these idiots, Jenna’s gone. Nico backs toward the door, humming some Sinatra tune, before vanishing into the foyer. Only then do the goons release me, keeping their guns trained on my chest until they’re out the door.
I sprint after them, hitting the sidewalk just in time to see taillights fishtailing off into the Vegas night. Two SUVs, black glass. A third idles at the curb. One look and I know Jenna isn’t inside. I’m sure they have her tucked in the middle vehicle like precious cargo.
I pull my Glock and finger the trigger, considering a hopeless parting shot before lowering the weapon. I won’t risk Jenna’s life or innocent bystanders on an ego spasm.
Instead, I memorize plate digits and find the valet, expressing my urgency. He brings my car seconds later. I jump in and slam the accelerator.
Ten blocks. Twelve. The Strip’s neon blurs past, alive with tourists oblivious to the mob war boiling underneath it all. I slow at every intersection, scanning for blacked out Escalades, but it’s useless. I’m at least five minutes behind, an eternity where Jenna’s concerned.
I use the voice command on my dash-mounted phone. “Denis. Mikail. Conference.”
I hear two clicks as they come on the line.
“He ambushed us,” I say. No greeting, no preamble. “Parking-garage stunt was kindergarten. Tonight was the real play.”
Denis hisses. “She’s alive?”
“Alive—for now.”
Mikail curses in Russian before slipping back to English. “Cameras?”
“Restaurant system probably loops locally—no live relay. But there’s street CCTV at Flamingo and Koval. Get Detective Johnson into the feed.” Detective Simone Johnson is one of many LVPD cops we have on payroll.
“I’m on with her already,” Mikail says. I can hear keys jingling in the background. “She’ll pull everything northbound.”
“Good.” I carve a tight left, tires screeching. City lights strobe across the windshield. “Send a crew to the bistro. One Agosti soldier down, bullet in the leg. I knocked him out before Nico shot him. Pick him up before the cops do.”
“Fucking hell. We’ll do a sweep. And the staff?” Denis says.
“No casualties, staff and patrons got out safely. Nico wanted a show, not a body count.” Except for his own man. Fucking idiot.
I hit a red light and punch the steering wheel, feeling the leather give beneath my knuckles. Regret gnaws at me. I should’ve accepted protection detail tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow, should’ve clocked blind spots. Jenna’s scent lingers on my shirt, vanilla now mixed with a tangy trace of gunpowder. I grit my teeth until my jaw hurts.
Mikail breaks in. “Traffic camera at Paradise Road picked up two black SUVs headed east toward Henderson. Johnson’s tagging plate fragments.”
“Push it,” I snarl. “Offer the detective a charitable contribution. I want a live trace.”
“Understood.”
Denis sounds a lot calmer than I feel. “What’s your plan?”
“Nico’s plan is to have our long-awaited meeting tomorrow at noon.Myplan is to end this before sunrise.” I accelerate through a yellow, cussing at a cabbie. “We pull every asset. Street sweepers, club security, drone eyes. Nico thinks he’s top dog; clearly he’s forgotten who owns half this desert.”
“Abram,” Denis says quietly, “you sure you can stay focused? Nico’s using Jenna as leverage.”
