Page 50 of Ripping the Odds

“I can agree to that.”

Zak didn’t go back to work, instead he brought work to him. Standing in the middle of his home office, he spouted orders to the countless men and women that filled the room, all of whom looked as if they could kill a person with their bare hands. Some of them I recognized, most I’d never seen before. This was the Bratva part of Zak’s world I hadn’t been privy to yet. These were his people––his army––and he was mobilizing them for me. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring.

“This is my fucking city,” he roared. “Burn it to the ground if you have to, just find that scar-faced motherfucker.”

As soon as he dismissed them, his wrath shifted to the men he called his brothers.

“I thought you said he was in New York, Mak?”

“Yesterday, he was,” the blond spat back, going toe-to-toe with his friend.

Makari, Dimitri, and Kasimir shared his anger. In fact they’d all been extra growly since the doctor Zak called to check me out agreed with the paramedic. I had a slight concussion. The problem was, they were taking their frustration out on each other. I was about to speak up when Kasimir intervened, stepping between them.

“Enough.” He put a hand to each of their chests and pushed them apart. “This isn’t helping the situation.”

“He’s right. We need to focus,” Dimitri added before he asked Makari, “What about the traffic cams? Did they catch anything?”

“Sorokino got out of a dark blue SUV at the deli. He kept his distance until the right opportunity presented itself. After he hit Pru, all the cameras in a three-block radius went down and stayed down for ten minutes.”

“Fucking hell.” Zak yelled. “Expand the search grid. Cut off every escape route available to this fucker.”

In the past hour, my man had used the word fuck, or some version of it, a total of forty-one times. And, yes, I counted because there wasn’t much else for me to do. I’d been relegated to lying on the couch in his home office with one of those instant ice packs behind my head. Anytime I tried to move, he pinned me with a glare. It’d been that way since he showed up at the scene of the accident. I’d never seen him so out of control. It was a wonder he hadn’t been arrested.

“We know my uncle is helping him.”

The deep vibrato of Zak’s voice yanked me out of my thoughts, or more accurately, it was what he said. I knew his parents were murdered a long time ago, but he’d never mentioned any other family.

“Your uncle?”

He crossed to me in three steps, then lowered himself to the edge of the couch at my hip. His finger traced a path from my temple to my chin before he leaned in for a chaste kiss. I knew he was stalling, but since his tactics included a public display of affection, I’d allow it momentarily.

“Victor,” he finally said. “My dad’s half-brother.”

“So besides keeping the fact that three men escaped the warehouse from me, you also have family you never talked about. Is there anything else?” My tone was harsher than I meant it to be. But considering he’d known the man who tortured me was alive from the beginning…well, he owed me a bit of grace.

“No, baby, I swear. And Victor isn’t family. He’s insignificant. For the past twenty years, I thought of him as an annoying gnat who was small enough to slip through the webbing on my fly swatter. That’s how little he mattered.”

“What changed?”

“We discovered he was the puppeteer pulling Machail’s strings.”

Hearing his name again didn’t even make me twitch. I thought it would take years of therapy before that would happen. Dr. Ivy would be proud. Her techniques were working.

“So what will you do?”

“End him. For good.”

Zakhar

It had been a day. Pru was so exhausted, she nearly fell asleep during dinner. I carried her up to our bedroom, removed her prosthesis, then tucked her in before jogging back down the stairs to my home office. It was time to check in with my brothers.

Me: Anything?

Mak: Alexsei and Luca have info on Victor.

Me: What ?

Mak: They heard he’s holed up in southwest Brooklyn. Red Hook, to be specific. Spends his days at the marine terminal and his nights throwing cash at high-dollar hookers.