Page 64 of Surprise Quadruplets for the Mob

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I’ve already decided Alyosha is the fucking rat, but I want to be sure before I put a bullet in his head. I’m not making the same mistake of jumping to conclusions with only one source of information at my back, not again. Not ever again.

Lev drives us straight to Alyosha’s brother, Dima’s house. It isn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. A cute little place. Quaint. I don’t bother knocking, instead kicking the door in, and drawing my gun as we rush into the living room.

Dima is sitting on the couch, watching the news. His eyes go wide when he sees me, and he immediately turns the television off.

“Where is Alyosha?” I demand. “If you lie, I will know, and I will kill you.”

He stares at me for a second, then clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t know. What’s going on?”

“Cut the shit.” I click the safety off my gun and aim it at him. “Tell me where your brother is, or you will die.”

His face pales. “Okay, okay, calm down. He’s upstairs. In the guest room. The one at the end of the hallway.”

I motion for Lev and Dimitri to stay with Dima and make my way upstairs, listening carefully. There’s no sound in the house, so when I reach the last bedroom, the one Alyosha is supposed to be in, I’m expecting it to be empty.

I’m wrong.

He’s sitting on the bed, staring at a picture of himself and Dima.

“Hey, boss.” He sets the picture down and smiles at me, and for a split second, I’m thrown by how normal he seems. He looks just like his usual self. “I didn’t think it would take you this long to get here.”

This son of a bitch knows he’s been caught. He knows he’s done. He has this look of calm expectation. I’ve seen this expression many times on the faces of men before they die, as they accept their fate. He knows what’s coming.

“You fucking traitor,” I growl. “Where is she? What have you done?”

“What needed to be done,” he answers.

“Where. Is. She.”

“You won’t find her in time if you shoot me.” He shrugs. “Or maybe they’ll keep her alive for a while. Hard to say, really.”

“You die either way,” I growl. “It might as well be with a clear conscience. Confess your sins, Alyosha. Tell me why you betrayed me.”

“The Irish got to me. I ran up some debts. Got into some trouble. They bailed me out, but their help came with some strings attached.”

“They wanted to get to me,” I mutter, barely able to believe what I’m hearing. “You sold me out for some debts? You’ve put Abby and her kids—my fucking kids—in harm’s way because of some debts you owe?” I’m shouting now and I don’t care who hears me. I’m going to kill this motherfucker. It’s only a question of whether I do it now or later.

“The Irish had a nice little operation going,” he continues, seemingly unbothered by the gun that’s pointed at his head. “You should really look into it sometime. Take some notes. They had the scammers working for them. When Abby exposed Booker, she threatened the whole operation. So they had me come up with some paperwork, the bank statements, the DNA test. That was after they decided not to kill her outright.”

“Why didn’t they?” I ask, unsure I want to hear the answer. “They had the opportunity. They even tried at one point.”

“Because of the babies, I’d imagine. If they keep the kids alive, they’ll get what they want out of you.”

My heart is hammering in my chest, and I can barely breathe.

He’s right. I know exactly what the Irish want. Me, broken and vulnerable. Easily manipulated.

And they have the perfect leverage.

“Where are they?” I take a step closer and press the gun against his temple. “Where are they keeping her?”

He rattles off an address and I commit it to memory.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t end your pathetic life right now.”

“You should,” he says, surprising me. “I’ve settled my debts, and my family is no longer in danger of paying for my bad decisions. I’m ready. And if you don’t kill me, the Irish will soon enough. All I ask is that you make it quick. Don’t torture me. I’ve already told you everything I know.”

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