"Tomaso!" He cracked, sobbing. "It was Tomaso's people who got Vanessa out! They gave me thirty grand to pull the guards away during the transfer—"
That old bastard. Should've known. All these years fighting over territory and business, the hatred kept piling up. I'd weakened his operation considerably, but the old dog clearly wasn't dead yet.
"What else?" I asked coldly.
"Nothing else, I swear there's nothing else!" He banged his head on the floor frantically. "Boss, please! I'll never betray the Bratva for money again, I swear to God—I'll serve the organization faithfully from now on, I swear—"
"The moment a traitor betrays the organization, he's already a dead man." I pulled the trigger without mercy.
The gunshot rang out. The begging stopped.
I turned and walked out of the interrogation room, told Marco waiting by the door, "Send people into Tomaso's territory. Get Vanessa back, whatever it takes."
"Yes, Pakhan."
After dinner, I sat in my study handling paperwork. Nightdeepened outside. On my computer screen, Anthea's bedroom played out in real time. She'd just showered, her blonde hair still damp, falling across her shoulders. She leaned against the headboard, legs curled casually, holding a book. The bedside lamp cast a warm yellow circle around her, wrapping her in quiet contentment.
When she read, she was completely focused. Her fingertips traced the page edges, turning them occasionally. Sometimes she'd furrow her brow slightly, like she'd hit something confusing. Other times, a smile would touch her lips at something interesting.
I realized I'd stopped working. I just watched her on the screen, my breathing slowing down. Suddenly, she set down the book and picked up her phone from the nightstand. My fingers immediately clicked on the audio feed.
"Hey, Julian." Her voice was soft and familiar.
My eyes narrowed. That lawyer again. After being warned, he still had the balls to contact Anthea.
"Anthea, I'm not interrupting your rest, am I?" Julian's voice came through.
"No, I was reading. Are you feeling better?" Anthea asked, frowning with concern.
"Much better, thanks for asking." Julian paused. His voice did sound better than before. "I wanted to see if we could meet in three days to talk about the custody case. I've done some research, and wanted to go over the options with you in person."
Anthea sat up straighter in bed, her expression turning serious.
"Okay, no problem." She nodded. "You pick the time and place."
She agreed too quickly. I stared at her face, something lodging in my chest.
"How about three in the afternoon? I'll send you the address later," Julian said.
"Works for me." She answered, gratitude in her voice. "Thank you for helping me, Julian. This could cause you trouble—"
I hadn't heard her use that tone with me in a long time. Soft, trusting, completely unguarded—all of it for this lawyer. A vicious bitterness rose in my chest.
"Don't say that." Julian cut Anthea off, his tone so gentle it made me want to crush his throat. "We grew up together. Your business is my business. Plus, this is your right. You gave birth to him—no one can take him from you."
Anthea went silent for a few seconds. I saw her eyes well up.
"You don't know what that means to me," she said softly. "These six years, I've thought about him every day. Now seeing him healthy, getting to see him every day—I'm so happy."
Her voice grew thick, but she quickly took a deep breath, steadying herself. I watched her stubborn, fragile expression, a dull ache in my chest. These six years must have been hell for her. And I was the one who put her through it.
"You'll be with him soon," Julian comforted her. "Trust me."
This idiot thought that would make him Anthea's hero? Naive. I'd like to see what he could actually pull off.
"Okay." She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. "See you in three days."
"Goodnight, Anthea."
