The folder simply labeledFamilyappears unbothered.
Opening it, I find newspaper clippings, old photos, and a child’s drawing of three stick figures. Mom, dad, and a little girl in the middle. Thick, bitter disgust rises in my throat.
What am I doing?
I tear my eyes away from the reflection, refusing to acknowledge the question. The mission has changed, that’s all. I just need to gather more information.
This isn’t personal.
My gaze drifts back to the mirror and lands on a slip of paper tucked into the top left corner, between the frame and the wall.
Just the barest edge of yellowed scrap. Easy to miss against the paint.
I reach up and carefully extract an old newspaper clipping with browning edges.
Tragedy at the Alibi Club: Dozens Dead in Suspected Gang War. Locals Escaped.
Cold revelation slithers through my stomach. It’s not the same article I saw in Roman’s compound, the one Alexei and Aurora found in MJ’s research. This one’s from a small local paper. But it’s the same event.
I skim the text, picking out key phrases.
“…summit between powerful international business syndicates…”A sanitized, public term for what was really a mafia meeting.
“…tropical storm…fires…gunfights…”
“…Roman Kozlov, head of the Kozlov family at the center…daughter, Anika, nine, missing, presumed dead…wife, Lilia Kozlov, among the deceased, along with feared Banshee boss Colin Finegan and a high-ranking member of the Avramidis family…”
The very end contains a tiny section about the ongoing investigation, mentioning locals and tourists who were present on the island.
Including the Davidson family, who’d been vacationing on Isla de Huesos during the incident.
A photo of the family follows. The unnamed nine-year-old daughter, a thin girl with dark curls and wide, terrified eyes, sits in a hospital bed, flanked by her mother and father.
My hands go numb.
It’s true.
Chloe was on that island.
The same night Roman lost his wife and daughter. The same night that everything changed for the Kozlov Bratva. What did she see? What does she actually know?
My phone vibrates on the counter where it’s charging, the screen lighting up with Kirill’s name.
I step outside and scan the area, cracking the front door behind me. The cool night air carries the lingering scent of spent fireworks. “What?”
“What!” Kirill’s voice is sharp with impatience. “We’ve been trying to reach you. And you respond with ‘what.’ Where the fuck have you been?”
“A basement.”
A beat of silence. “I don’t even want to know.” His tone darkens. “Something’s happening, Kolya. The Falcones hit the South Side warehouse last night. Sasha was on duty.”
My chest tightens. Sasha Pisarev. Son of Roman’s second-in-command, Igor. He’s just a kid, really, compared to the rest of us. He should still be going out with someone more experienced, not on his own. Is that a sign of our thinning ranks? “Is he?—”
“He’ll live. But Igor’s ready to tear this city apart. Roman’s barely holding him back.” He pauses, his breath hissing through his teeth. “Whatever you started is having echoes back here. Finish it. And get the hell home.”
Behind me, the water in the bathroom shuts off. Chloe will be out soon, expecting me to be cleaning up her living room, not ransacking what little privacy she has left.
“What’s your status?” Kirill demands.
