The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,110

bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling because the tension can suddenly be cut with a knife.

Someone clears their throat. “Follow me.”

“Come,” Alek says, hinting that’s our cue to leave.

I don’t need to be told twice and slowly follow Alek, ensuring the kids are close behind me. I scan my surroundings as best I can with my chin downcast and see Tura is an untouched paradise. The tall palm trees give the island a tropical feel, as does the soft sand.

Women are sunbathing on striped lounges while drinking colorful cocktails, and the men are playing cards or sitting by the bar. Any unsuspecting guest would be forgiven for thinking this was nothing but a holiday destination.

Alek and the man he walks with speak Russian, and although I’m curious as to what they’re saying, in a sense, I’m glad I don’t know what they’re discussing. The children latch onto me, and their trust touches my heart.

The man escorts us to a white villa, which is absolutely stunning. One thing I’ve noticed is that the houses here do not have any fences around their property. It’s like one big resort. I don’t know if these properties are owned, or if it’s a free-for-all—in every sense of the word.

We stop in the tiled foyer, where a maid offers Alek a glass of something. He shakes his head, making clear this isn’t a social call.

Shoes squeak along the flooring, hinting our host has arrived, and when I hear his voice, I gasp, as I recognize who this is.

“Aleksei, I knew there was more to you than meets the eyes,” says Christian, the man I met the night of the poker game. The man who is involved with the Italian mafia. The man who is Santo’s nephew.

I try to keep calm, but this isn’t good.

“Christian,” Alek calmly says. “I suppose the same can be said about you. Does your family know about your…extra activities?”

Christian laughs jovially. “Those old farts wouldn’t know a modern way of thinking if it slapped them on the side of the head.”

I knew he seemed out of place compared to his uncles. It appeared he wanted to embrace a new, modern way of conducting business, while they are happy operating how their ancestors once did. This means they know nothing of this “side project.”

“So this venture is all yours then?”

“Yes.”

Christian has just signed his death warrant.

“I knew we were like-minded when I first met you,” Christian goes on to say. “I’ve come to learn the hard way why they say never work with family. I had no other choice but to branch out on my own. I couldn’t exactly be my family’s competition, which is why I found a niche of my own.”

Alek’s silence is him barely holding on.

Is he the one who ruined Irina’s life? The odds are slim, but in this world, I’ve learned that there is no such thing as coincidences.

“Word has it my uncle is looking for you and…Ella. Hello.”

The blood drains from my face. No matter if my hair is short or long, or if I refuse to look at him, I can’t hide my identity from him. He knows who I am, and he knows what I did to his cousin.

To think I have ruined this for Alek has me sniffing back tears. Every corner we turn, we’re faced with a brick wall, which is ten feet high. I don’t know what’s about to happen because I never anticipated the person behind this would be a face we both knew.

Lifting my chin, I meet Christian’s eyes. I remain passive, not wanting my emotions to show. “Hi.”

He looks casual in a white shirt and chinos, and to some, he may be considered attractive with his light eyes and dark hair. But to me, he is the deadliest kind of monster. His mask fools people into believing he is harmless and standing on the sidelines while his father and uncle, who run the family, allow them to believe he is under their control.

But he is a smart predator. Waiting and watching, he bides his time.

“So, did you really do it? Did you kill Frank?”

I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t say anything. But my silence speaks volumes.

“I’m stuck in a predicament here, you see,” he reveals coolly. “I could call my uncle and let him deal with you. I could also just forget I ever saw you, I mean, you’re here with the goods. Whether you delivered them or Rodrigo, it really