And so long as Belov is leading the Mikhailov, they’re the fucking enemy.
I park the car right outside the pub and walk inside as confidently as I can.
“We’re closed,” a man rasps from behind the bar
I walk up to the counter and plunk myself down on one of the swivel barstools. “Tell Spartak Belov I’m here to see him. And get me a drink while I wait. Something strong.”
The man snorts. “And who the hell do you think you are, little missy?”
I raise a brow and fix him with an icy glare. “Viktoria fucking Mikhailov,” I say. “Call Belov. I’ll wait.”
36
LEO
Gaiman and Jax aren’t sure what to do with my rage.
Truth be told, I’m not sure what to do with it, either.
My hands clench. The urge to lash out, to destroy something, to punish someone, is strong. But I need to save this rage for the man who deserves it.
“We don’t have a full security system set up here,” Gaiman says cautiously. “It covers a lot, but—Shit, Leo, we didn’t think Willow was a flight risk anymore. She didn’t even have an assigned guard.”
“Why the flying fuck did she make a run for it?” Jax interjects. “She seemed fine.”
“She’s not running from me,” I grit out. “She’s running towards him. Towards our son.”
Jax’s eyes go wide. “You mean… she’s taking Belov up on his deal?”
I turn my back on both of them. “Get the men ready. We’re going in.”
“Are you sure?” Gaiman asks. “Preparations aren’t—”
“We can’t wait any longer. Willow has forced my hand. It’s time to move forward and let the chips fall where they may.”
“But Willow and Pasha,” Gaiman warns. “They’ll be at risk.”
“He’ll use them,” I say. “Undoubtedly. But Willow is more capable than I’ve given her credit for. She’ll have to hold her own. At least until I can get close enough to Belov and snap his neck myself.”
My fingers flex, imagining the satisfying crunch of his spine. I told Ariel she could be the one to kill him. But now I’m all that’s left.
I don’t mind doing the job.
I’m moving to the door when my phone starts ringing. It’s a private number. “It’s him,” I say immediately. Willow must have given him my number. It’s the only way he’d have my private cell. “He’s requesting a video call.”
Gaiman rushes towards the monitor on my desk. “I’ll transfer the call to the computer.”
He takes my phone, taps some buttons on the screen, and hands me my phone. I press Accept.
At first, all I see is part of a room. White walls, shelves stuffed with books I know he’s never read. Generic. Unthreatening.
Then Belov steps into the frame.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a director standing behind the camera. The man loves putting on a show.
“Thanks so much for answering my call, old friend,” he croons. “Your dear wife gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Where is she?” I growl.
“Right here.” Belov waves his hand and the camera pans around. “Catching up with her grandfather.”
The camera lands on Semyon first. He’s in his wheelchair with his nurse standing right behind him. For the past several years, I’ve never seen one without the other. She’s the old man’s shadow. You get the feeling he’d die if she took too many steps away from his side.
In the chair next to Semyon is Willow.
She seems to be unharmed. She’s not even tied down. She’s sitting calmly next to him, if somewhat stiff and vacant-eyed.
“Willow.”
She looks off to the side, and I know she’s looking at me on the screen. “I’m sorry, Leo,” she murmurs. “I had to do it.”
Belov steps back in front of the camera, but I can still see both Willow and Semyon on either side of his monstrous head.
“I owe you many debts,” he says. “The first of course is the beautiful mole you planted by my side.”
“Did you never suspect her?” I ask. “I’m sure you didn’t. If you had, she would’ve died years ago.”
“It was clever, I must admit. Was she always yours?”
I clench my jaw tight, remembering just how far back we went. “From the very fucking beginning.”
“Then it’s a shame you didn’t get her back in one piece,” Belov says with mock sympathy. “Unfortunately, I had to play with her one last time before she left. And I play a little rough.”