“Oh, no,” I groan. “Jerry, the warehouse manager?”
“He’s alive,” he says, “just barely. He went back in to pull out another guy. There was a series of timed explosions, the third one nearly blew him to pieces.”
I leave him to deal with the fire chief and race over to the ambulance where the paramedics are strapping an oxygen mask to Jerry’s mouth. Half of his hair is burned off, his poor red scalp showing through. When he sees me, he struggles upright, trying to pull away the mask.
“Jerry, no,” I try to put it back over his mouth. “You need to let them take care of you.”
“I gotta…” he wheezes, “there was…” He breaks into a coughing fit and I hold him upright while the paramedic puts in an IV. “...a message. The first fire… in a shape. Then a minute later the explosion and it all went.”
“What shape?” I ask, holding my phone and frantically pulling up a drawing app. His sooty finger draws the shape and it feels like I’ve been punched in the heart.
Petrov. In Cyrillic text.
***
“I’m gonna kill that feck myself.” Lachlan’s oddly composed, except for his hands, which tighten into fists every few minutes, knuckles white like he’s dying to slam them into someone’s face.
“Zed says there wasn’t a message at the other warehouse, but it doesn’t need to be said twice, I guess.” I run my filthy hand through my hair. So much for that shower.
“I’m responsible for this,” he says, “I beat the shite out of that unhinged feck and banned him from all our clubs. It’s a huge loss of face.”
He’s updated me on his conversation with his brother and his certainty that Petrov was behind the home invasion. There couldn’t be anyone worse to know about the secrets we hold. But how did he know where to target his attack?
“Arseni Petrov is a madman,” I say, squeezing his arm, “he destroys entire families at random. The question is, how do we stop him?”
Lachlanshrugs.He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to burn his Bratva to the ground, down to bone and ash.” His eyes are pitch black, and I swear there’s a tiny red flame flickering there.
“Wait,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, “I never asked. What did you get from the man we caught today?”
He guides me back to the SUV, sliding in beside me and putting up the privacy screen between the front and back seats. “Remind me to build you a new basement for torture. That warehouse was more uncomfortable for me than it was for him.”
“That is… so disturbing that I really don’t want you to elaborate. Did you get him to talk?”
“He didn’t give a name,” he says regretfully. “But he has a brand on his back. I didn’t recognize it, but it’s an important sign of loyalty and trust for some organizations. I took a picture, have Haruko start an image search.”
“Of course.” I take a screenshot of my phone and send it to Haruko, rapidly typing instructions. Resting my head on his nice, broad shoulder, I feel like sagging under the weight of everything bearing down on us. “I need to visit the families of the men and women we lost tonight. Three more workers died at the other warehouse and I got a call from the hospital.” My throat closes, “Jerry succumbed to his injuries about an hour ago.”
“Will ya’ take care of the families?”
“Of course!” I’m a little insulted. “We’ll provide for them for life. It’s the least we can do.”
He smiles, kissing my dirty face. “Spoken like a boss.”
“Would you truly accept your wife as the head of another family’s organization?” I’m scared to ask.
Taking my hands in his, he kisses each one, never breaking eye contact. “Baby, you will make a grand queen of the King Syndicate. And I will be here to keep you safe.” Then his smile turns devilish. “But I’ll always be your boss in the bedroom.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
In which Lachlan wreak havoc as the Lord of Chaos he is.
Aria…
The next two weeks fly by in a blur. More attacks popping up like malignant toadstools on King Syndicate holdings. That scum Petrov has a fondness for explosives, it seems. To make matters worse, three families have pulled out of major shipping contracts with us, citing ‘concerns about our stability.’ The spiteful part of me is looking forward to ending this nightmare, watching them crawl back when they realize they can’t handle business without us, and sticking my boot up their ass.
Unfortunately, all these very public attacks have the police breathing down our necks. We own every police officer in this province and most of the judges, but when the attacks get too obvious, even to the public, they become anxious, demanding. Eventually, there won’t be enough bribe money to keep them behaving properly. We must bring back peace to Halifax.
Lachlan is… amazing. Somehow, he’s quietly taken over the security for the King Syndicate, deftly matching his men in with mine and he’s already rooted out three traitors who were working for Uncle Bastard. He’s shored up several weak spots and still manages to tolerate my sister’s increasingly snippy attitude and fucks me to sleep every night.
