Page 73 of Sins He Taught Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 3)

I need to get out of the house for a while, away from Victoria and all of the confusion she causes me, so I decide to investigate the Albanians myself. Something tells me that they know more than they’re letting on, and when it comes to finding my brother’s killer, I don’t have time to fuck around. I need to find the vigilante and put a bullet between his eyes.

The drive to the shipping yard where they hang out takes a while. Too much time. I don’t like being idle these days. I find my thoughts turning towards Victoria way too often.

When I step out of my car, I see the man himself, Brahim Shehu, standing off to the side, talking to one of the men overseeing the yard. His black eyes are narrowed as he stares down at a clipboard, and he scratches his thick beard absently. He looks up from his clipboard, and when he sees me, his eyes darken. His mouth pulls into a jagged gash of a smirk.

“Well, well, well,” he says. “If it isn’t Matvei goddamn Morozov. In my territory. How can I help you, sir?”

“I came to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind for a few weeks now.”

“I’m flattered, Morozov, truly, but you know I’m a married man.”

I smirk back at him. “In your fucking dreams, Albanian.”

“You come here alone?” A few of Shehu’s men glance at my car, searching for anyone else.

“Just me. Just here to talk.” It’s a risky move, coming here without backup, but I trust that Brahim knows not to fuck with the king. There’ll be hell to pay if he does.

“Alright,” he shrugs. “So, talk.”

I bury my hands in my pocket and widen my stance, shrugging as well. “It’s about the vigilante. You heard of him?”

“The motherfucker that’s been running all up and down town killing people? Sure. Why do you ask?” His eyes shimmer.

Another shrug. “Came here to ask if you know anything about the guy. Wondered if maybe he’s one of yours.” I see one of his men walking across the yard with a slight limp. I remember how my bullet the night Dmitry and Brianne died caught him in the knee. “As of right now, it could be anyone.”

Shehu looks around, then says, “My men are busy working for me, not playing dress-up crime fighter in the streets, Morozov. And I don’t appreciate you coming in here accusing me of shit that we have no business with. How about this: we’ll forget you came in here and started pointing fingers, and you pay us something to keep us from getting upset with you?”

I snort and look around. Seven or eight men are in the general facility. Two of them have handguns at the ready, but I’m positive the others have a firearm around them that’s easily accessible.

This situation isn’t going to be pretty. I can feel it. I begin to wonder if coming here was foolish.

But I’m not going down tonight. Not with Nikolas on the line. He’s already lost so much. I can’t die on him, too.

“Sure,” I say, reaching into my jacket. “My wallet’s somewhere in here …”

In an instant, I pull my gun from my jacket and fire at Shehu’s feet, watching as he jumps back and shouts at his men to fire back. Turning on my heels, I point the gun at the nearest Albanian and put two holes in his chest. He collapses with a cry of agony, but I don’t stop moving.

Shots ring out behind me, and I duck behind one of their cars. We trade bullets, loud clangs bouncing off the metal frame of the car in front of me. I manage to down two more of Shehu’s men, which only enrages him more.

He screams bloody murder, standing up and firing wildly in my direction. Gasping for breath, I drop down behind the car and try to think. I have to get the fuck out of here. I have to make it back to my car, but I can’t with all of these men aiming at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his men approaching. I aim at his foot and fire, watching as his shoe explodes with blood. When he stumbles forward, I jump up and grab him, using him as a shield while I back up towards my own car.

“Fuck,” he cries, blood spilling down his chest as he takes five bullets. When he’s no longer useful and I’m able to put distance between us, I drop him and sprint towards my vehicle. I reach for the handle when I feel a hard thud in my back nearly knock me off my feet. The Kevlar beneath my jacket is the only thing keeping the bullet from splintering my rib cage into a million shards.

I practically dive into the car, slamming the door shut and fumbling to get my keys in the ignition. My heart thuds in my chest. I put the car in drive and speed off, shots ringing out as I barely escape with my life.

That was too fucking close.

I head for a quick pit stop at a nearby Morozov safe house to ditch my weapon before going home. My mind is racing the whole time.

I didn’t think Brahim and his crew would be so aggressive, but clearly I miscalculated. A stupid mistake, the kind of situation a man like me should never be getting himself into. Idiotic. I have a kingdom to run, men who rely on me.

Not to mention, Nikolas almost lost his only living family member tonight. And I can’t help but shake the thought of Victoria finding out I’ve been killed. Would it crush her? Would I want it to?

I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road. She should be the last thing I’m worrying about, yet she’s still high on my list of priorities. It’s a sign that I’m in way too deep, and I need to get back on track.

Another stupid mistake might be my last.

---