Page 80 of A Pawn in the Game
Marko follows me back to the dungeon. I chew on my bottom lip as anxiety fills my stomach. I don’t know a lot about the mafia, but whatever Luka’s doing right now, it must be dangerous. Considering he wears two guns on him at all times, it can presumably also be deadly.
My hands grow clammy. I slip into bed, too distracted to even talk to Marko. He doesn’t pay me any attention, either, tapping away on his phone. I may not protect Luka, not while I’m unarmed and held captive, but the least I can do is rid him of guilt when he comes back.
Ifhe comes back.
Whenhe comes back.
The traumatized parts of me battle each other. My mind fills with visions of blood. It’s my old house, where mom was killed. But instead of her body lying dead on the cold marble floor, I see Luka.
I can’t. I can’t be responsible for something happening to him.
CHAPTER 39
Luka
Leon’s giving me the silent treatment as we drive to the mystery location our uncle texted him. My body buzzes with anxious energy and so much fucking rage.
The Russians need to be dealt with if I want any chance of letting Sophie go. Leon will throw a hissy fit, that’s for sure, but I’m out of fucks to give.
His grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles white. The stress of the last few months gave him a few new grays and deepened the frown lines on his face. He’s my brother and I worry about him, but I’m sick and tired of playing the role of the irresponsible little brother.
His teeth barely unclench long enough for him to say, “Andre and Ivan are waiting for us on the way, as well as a couple of my guys.”
“Hmph,” I grunt in response.
The glove box clicks as I open it, finding a Glock inside. Since I was kidnapped from my home, I’m not as prepared as I’d like to be. This will have to do. I check the chamber and load it, smooth steel familiar in my hands.
“What are we expecting?” I ask.
“They should be having a family meeting.”
My eyes widen. This will be a gold mine. The Russian mafia is led by three brothers. They never really get together, not in person, to ensure their survival. Even if you were to kill one of them, the other two would get you faster than you could catch them, and the family would still stay strong. For the three of them to meet, it’s basically unheard of. “Why the hell would they do that?”
“Maybe they need to discuss how to deal with shit we’ve been throwing at them.” Leon shoots me a smirk.
Even with all the hits we’ve taken, we threw a few punches of our own. Their most prominent vodka distillery was up for inspection and, whoops, the last batch of vodka they produced didn’t pass and had to be destroyed.
Unlike the usual meeting spots—abandoned buildings and warehouses—Leon parks in front of a brand-new office building. Its lot is still unfinished, and my guess would be no one has used it yet. Pretty smart for a meetup spot, I have to give them that. There are no cars parked in front, but it has an underground garage where they could be. Another point for them. Two more cars pull up behind us and we get out without a word. Leon gestures for Ivan and two of his guys to go through the back while Andre, Leon, and I will enter here. I would bet my club there’s not a lot of security here tonight. They’d want to keep this family meeting under wraps. I don’t have to be in Leon’s head to know that’s why there’s only six of us here. We also have the element of surprise.
My boots crunch on the loose gravel. None of us say a word, but the anticipation is palpable. A chance to kill the men who murdered Father. A chance to get our business back on track and our family in order. I can almost smell the victory from here. We reach the glass front door and Andre opens them without a hitch.
Weird.
Still, we continue inside, navigating the dark hallway througha maze of office spaces and conference rooms, and take the stairs to the top floor. The place is fully dark, except for the one conference room with the lights on. My heart pumps faster as my fingers wrap around the gun, ready to shoot.
Three dark figures approach from the other side and I point the barrel at them before noticing it’s Ivan and Leon’s guys. Ivan gestures his head to the lighted conference room. As we get closer, three black blobs appear in the frosted glass wall of the room. Hushed voices whisper in Russian, barely discerning.
Excitement grows within me, though I can’t escape the knot in my gut. This was too easy. How did our buffoon of an uncle get hold of secret intel about a meeting that literally never happens? The hair on my neck stands up straight as we reach the door.It’s too late to back out now.
Leon gives him a nod, and Ivan opens the door and the six of us barrel inside, one by one, with our weapons cocked.
“Fuck,” Leon growls, kicking a chair with his leg hard enough to turn it over. He continues cursing in Croatian while I take in the surrounding scene.
The room is empty. The black blobs we saw from outside are just piles of old, musty clothes, stacked on top of the chairs. The voices are a recording playing on a radio perched on the lightwood oval desk. Next to the radio, a digital alarm clock sits. One that’s counting down the time to something.
Thirty-two
Thirty-one.
