“Also interesting.” I hadn’t spent enough time with my half-brother, which would soon change.
“You’re not buying any of this.” His eyes searched mine.
“You can’t blame me, Kirill. Someone wanted me kept alive and suffering.”
“Yeah, I know. When I learned of the possibility you’d been tossed in the Black Dolphin, the last thing I wanted was to rip open old wounds with Mikhail. Not until I knew for certain if we were on another wild goose chase.”
Mikhail had always been sensitive. That’s what almost dying as a child could do to you. He’d learned to value human life where I’d learned at the same age just how expendable it was.
At least two of the men who’d been hired were paying way too much attention.
“Let’s get on the plane. I need a goddamn drink.”
“I bet you do.” Kirill jogged toward the plane.
I lingered, staring at the road where we’d come in. The plan to keep me locked away had indeed been intricate. Remaining in the shadows for some time would be in my best interest until I learned what the fuck was going on.
As a ghost, exacting revenge would be much easier.
As I boarded, my thoughts drifted to Rafaela. I would find her, including if she’d gone to Paris. Not only did I long to see her again if to only ensure she was alive and doing well, I had some questions for her that she would answer. If she’d had anything to do with me losing three additional years of my life, she would face punishment.
Once secure, I took another deep breath, trying to ascertain how to go about discovering what the fuck had happened. I sat down, eager for the plane to take off.
“Where does my brother believe you are?”
Kirill chuckled while walking past me to a bar already set up in the back of the plane. The soldiers all remained in the front, leaving enough distance from the noise from the plane’s engine that we should be able to carry on a conversation.
“Would you believe on a vacation?”
I rubbed my fingers through my long beard. I had no idea what the fuck I looked like, but the look on Kirill’s face was a clear indication I looked like shit.
“At this point, I’d believe anything.” I thought about Mikhail, becoming even more livid than before. For my brother to be forced to endure my death more than once gutted me.
He handed me a tall class of scotch, a luxury that I had to admit I’d missed. “Who is this woman?”
“Marichetti’s daughter. He didn’t count on her feeling pity for the gruff stranger.”
As Kirill moved to the seat in front of me, I could see his fury about not challenging Pollizi’s enforcer. “Shit. He was Giovanni Pollizi’s main enforcer, but from what I understand, he retired a couple years ago. I don’t know the circumstances. He didn’t come into the equation at all the two times we were there. Plus, Pollizi lost several men, one of his warehouses attacked at the same time as the ambush, which was why we had a conversation about the Russians.”
“And why you didn’t cut ties.”
He winced as if I was angry with him. “All true.”
“Possibly part of the game.”
“Maybe they were working with one of the other Bratva.”
“Very possible,” I muttered as I sipped the drink. “How did Dimitri take the news?”
“When we needed extra muscle, he came with several of his men, even offering Mikhail his guidance. But his business has increased significantly over the years. The last I heard, his territory has grown, now including New Jersey and Philadelphia.”
“He’s been busy.”
“Yeah.”
I threw him another look. “I’m well aware the list of suspects is long. Find out if there’s any connection with Dimitri and either Petrov or Gusev Bratva.” The other Bratva at the top of the list.
“Yes, sir. So you’re aware, I did what I could to comb Sicily, asking everyone if they’d seen you.”
