Page 31 of A Pawn in the Game
The dogs are playing in the living room of my apartment while I wait for Leon to arrive. The place is once again tidy, thanks to Danica, but it feels unfamiliar to me. I’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars making this place just the way I wanted and now I spend next to no time in it.
I slump onto the overpaid couch, and watch the dogs chase a tennis ball around the place, while sliding over the marble floors. Hades was always playful, but he opened up so much more after he got an equally enthusiastic brother.
The door buzzes, so I get up to open it, checking the camera feed. Persephone sits next to Leon, exuding grace and danger.
“New dog?” he asks, noticing my two rascals right away.
“Erm, yeah. Kind of.”
“Haven’t imagined you as a retriever guy.”
I simply shrug in response. Persephone and Hades are siblings, and we bought them from the same litter, wanting dogs that would be worthy of mafia royalty. He’s the only one who got it. Persephone is a force to be reckoned with. EvenI’mnot fully comfortable under her lethal stare. She’s protective and strong, just like a Rottweiler should be. Hades is larger, but his personality is anything but dangerous. He’d let anyone intomy house, regardless of their intentions, but I still love the bastard.
“Why are we meeting here?” Leon steps behind my kitchen island, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a beer.
“The club is overflowing with Toma’s men.”
“At least you have help to deal with business.”
“Sure.” That’s hardly the truth. My men are now stationed to oversee his. I also had to threaten them not to touch Sophie. I trust my men, but these are common thugs. And I don’t want them playing with my captive. “So, what did you want to show me?”
He sighs, unlocking the screen of his phone. “This.”
He clicks on a photo, and my fists clench reflexively. It’s the Tommy kid, the one who made a deal with the Russians, lying dead in what looks like an abandoned warehouse.
“It’s what we expected.” I knew they’d kill him after receiving the message.
“Look closer.” He zooms in on his side and I realize his hand is missing. Blood pours out of his open wrist.
“They didn’t appreciate our message.”
“No, they didn’t.” This time, he zooms in on another part of the photo, revealing a piece of a metal sign I’d recognize anywhere.
Automotive.
“Son of a bitch.” I grit my teeth, my insides now burning with rage.
They’ve raided our warehouse. One of our oldest ones.
“How?” Red spots appear in my vision.
“My guess is Landers. Because they left another message.”
He slides his thumb over the screen and it’s a photo of an empty wooden crate with letters written on the lid.
Give her back.
I jump up from the couch and grab myself a bottle of rakia. The alcohol burns its way down my throat before I say, “So, he’s still working with them.”
“Seems like it.”
“He also isn’t scared.”
My arms fill with energy, one that has nowhere to escape. And before I know it, my right arm raises above my head and the bottle is flying across my living room before crashing down to the floor, the liquid spilling.
“Fuck,” I mutter, noticing the dogs got scared and froze, staring at me. I run a hand through my hair, guilt eating away at me. “Come on,” I gesture for them to follow me to the bedroom. There’s glass on the floor, and I can’t have them step on it. I give them a few pets on their necks, my way of apologizing for breaking their playtime, and close the door behind me. Persephone is sitting statue-still next to Leon, her eyes following me with disdain.
Join the club.
