Page 2 of A Pawn in the Game
The car lock clicks, and I march to the door of her building. The security is shit. I could have picked the lock in a second, but her neighbor is just leaving, so I slip my foot in after him. Drawing my hood up, in case of security cameras, I pace to apartment number 301. A bobby pin makes its way out of my sleeve, and I insert it into the lock.
I feel for the pins, turning the lock, taking more time than I’m used to.
Damn, I got rusty.
“Got ya,” I whisper, feeling the first seized pin and push it until it clicks. I repeat the process on the rest of the pins before the lock turns and I’m inside her apartment.
I come from a long line of criminals. We started out as petty pickpockets and burglars, and worked our way up to the first Croatian mafia family on the East Coast. And it was all due to Father’s merit. We started working with the Italians, our closest neighbors, as enforcers, and now we have a multitude of businesses of our own.
After his death, my brother was supposed to inherit the family business. Until my no-good uncle turned up, acting like he was an equal partner all these years. When the truth is, he was given scraps Father could trust him with, which weren’t a lot. Leon doesn’t have to be the boss, but we know our father would turn in his grave if he knew Toma took his place. And I get it.
Now our family is divided. People are choosing sides, and it’s not a good time for shit to go down. Which is why I need to do my part.
I check my watch, realizing I only have ten minutes left.
Shit.
Time to focus on the girl whose apartment I’m in. The living room is neat, clean and boring. Even showrooms have more character. The furniture is all light wood and gray, with no accent pillows or throw blankets. The walls are bare. There are no knick-knacks on the shelves. Hell, there are practically no shelves.
My eyes land on the giant computer setup, and a thought pops into my head. Clicking rapidly, I get my brother back on the phone.
“Yes?” He already sounds sick of me.
“Seems like she’s into computers.”
“It’s her job.”
“Did you check if she has any security systems inside the apartments?”
“And how would I do that?” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Look, she works in IT. They’re notoriously panicky about theirprivacy. I doubt she has any home systems set up because the government can track us that way.”
“Good thinking.”
We don’t rely on the internet too much in my family. We have no social media accounts and don’t use things like Siri or Alexa. Our phones are expendable and frequently changed. We can’t risk our privacy being exposed for the entire world to see. Not with what we do.
“Huh, she exercises,” I say, noticing the tidy corner with a set of resistance bands, a jump rope and some push up bars.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Gotta go. Talk to you later.”
I end the call, continuing my tour. My time is running out, so I better hurry. The apartment is a small one bedroom. There’s only one spot with some life to it and it’s the dog’s corner in her room. The dog bed is colorful and comfy looking, with toys strewn around.
I check the rest of the place and get my ass out of there with two minutes to spare. Hades jumps into my lap as soon as I enter the car, frantically sniffing my foreign dog scent.
The jealous fuck.
I call my brother again, but he doesn’t answer this time. Instead, I send him an encrypted voice note through an Eastern-European texting app that is so small, the government hasn’t thought of tracking it yet.
“No safety precautions. And no photos with her family.” No photos at all. “I’ll prepare her new home and we’re continuing with the plan.”
It’s weird there are no photos or mentions of Landers. Is she in contact with him? Will he even care that she’s gone?
I huff in disbelief. Of course he’s going to care. She’s his daughter.
Our father would have died for us. In a way, he did. And I’d die to protect his legacy.
CHAPTER 2
