September 2011
Houston, Texas
Radmir
Surrounded by the night, I slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Moonlight slipped through the cracks and shone brightly in the hallway as a light breeze cooled my heated skin, bringing much needed relief from the fucking hot weather. The ancient house, a mansion really, sitting at the edge of town, reminded me a lot ofDownton Abbey.The structure created an aura of mystery and restlessness. Bronze figures and hunting trophies greeted guests, adding to the creepy vibe, but for me, they did nothing.
The house, usually filled with laughter, classical music, and the delicious smells of home-baked food, was shrouded in darkness, the noise from the air conditioner shattering the silence. Obviously, the invitation displayed on my phone wasn't intended for me.
What the fuck was going on?
Removing the gun from the back of my pants and flipping the safety off, I aimed in front of me as I scanned my surroundings. All my senses were on high alert and my gut told me something was terribly wrong.
The kitchen located to my right was empty, everything polished and shiny, but the smell of bleach disturbed my nostrils. Frowning, I moved to the office in search of Cliff, but found it empty. He was usually ensconced with his cigar or having a meal at the table conveniently situated near a window. The guy rarely changed his routine, claiming germs existed everywhere and we should be careful, otherwise we might die soon. Cliff was odd like that, but loyal to a fault, so I dealt with his weird shit.
A single white sheet of paper lay on the table, as if someone intentionally put it there for anyone to read. My gloved hand picked it up as I read out loud. “I won’t do it. I can’t. This—” By how the blue ink slid across the sheet in unreadable letters it was as if someone snatched the paper away from him, as it was clear he didn't finish it. Was that the fucking reason for his call?
Frowning, I thought back to the message he sent me an hour ago, claiming no one but me could help him and the consequences could be fatal if I didn't possess the information he got a hold of. Cliff wasn’t a drama queen, so I believed him. Especially under the current circumstances, when I had a war on my hands over my woman, and I lacked the Bratva’s support since Vasya refused to help me.
Judging by Cliff’s house, he wasn’t wrong in his assumption, and someone must have come to stop him.
The sound of heavy footsteps caught my attention, and I rushed toward the spacious living room, which opened onto a view of the terrace. A figure ran toward the billowing white curtains where hot air blew inward through an open French door.
A man wearing a black mask, dark shirt, and leather pants, with heavy boots covered in blue hospital booties disappeared through it, but not before I caught sight of the tattoo on his hand of horns on top of two hearts entwined. I’d seen many tattoos in my life, but I didn’t recognize this weird one. Who the fuck would have something like that on their skin when they killed people? That was like putting a neon sign on themselves for everyone to see.
“Wait, you fucker,” I shouted, following him. When I stepped on something sticky, my mind registered my surroundings.
The dining table located in the right corner of the room had shards of the finest china scattered around it, as if someone smashed them in a rage. The wide leather sofa and two chairs were smeared in blood and ripped by deep nail-like scratches. Antique figurines and lamps lay broken under the furniture. Someone really fought for their life in the room. The destroyed items were Cliff’s most precious possessions, so the intruders weren’t thieves.
The white Persian carpet was stained by a large red pool, and Cliff lay right in the center of it as the blood poured from him. Holding his hand over his stomach wound, his eyes wide in shock and fear, he choked loudly as he struggled to breathe.
“Fuck, Cliff,” I murmured, kneeling and examining the knife wounds that were delivered to his major arteries, removing any chance he would have of surviving. The weapon lay next to where I kneeled, and without thinking, I picked it up to examine it. By the sharp edges and exquisite leather handle, I concluded it was a rare crocodile razor knife, which could inflict the most pain and suffering for the victim. The fucking killer wasn’t even quick about it.
Cliff groaned loudly, and I placed my hand under his head as sadness filled every bone in my body and pain shot through me. Nothing was left that I could do, only to hold my dear friend in his last minutes of life. One more soul who would be remembered for the rest of my life. Being part of the brotherhood, the sense of loss should be familiar, but it still shot through me like an arrow every single fucking time. “Hey, it’s okay.” I squeezed his hand as he blinked once, probably understanding he had no chance of surviving. Without hesitation, I started chanting a prayer while he spoke through dry lips.
“Thank you.” And in a few seconds, he froze as his heart stopped beating, and then I closed his eyes, hoping he found peace in the other world.
What the fuck was going on here? Who would want to kill Cliff?
The Bratva needed to know about this to help me. He was one of our closest friends; they would want his death avenged.
Suddenly, flashlights shone through the house as dogs barked loudly and police screamed to put my gun down.
Right before I raised my hands, I remembered the text message in my cell phone as dread settled inside me.
Vivian is not for you.
Who the fuck had the nerve to set me up?
Director
Emerging from the steaming bathroom, I wrapped the towel around my waist. My skin hurt from all the scrubbing I had done to remove Cliff’s blood. I even jerked off in the shower as nothing got me off more than the scent of a freshly killed body.
A surge of power rushed through me from the memories of the fight at his place. The stupid-as-fuck man wanted to live and thought he could interfere in my plan to get what was rightfully mine. Little did he know that he played right into my hands. Radmir had the highest sense of honor; he’d have never left his friend in need.
My laughter echoed in the room as I cracked my neck from side to side, enjoying the stretch and feeling on top of the world.
Pouring myself some wine from the hotel mini-bar, I wondered if anything else in life made me this happy.
