thought it would break me.”
“He won’t.”
He was about to lose his fucking mind. “What the fu—”
“Zatknis’, Kazimir,” Rus snapped. “If he were going to kill her, he would have done it here—right here where you would have seen it. He took her. At the very least, you have time. If he called you beforehand, he'd call you again just to fuck with you. Now, reel your shit in.”
“Gallucci.”
“What?”
Kaz thought of the man instantly. The two could have easily conspired this whole fucking thing, and that meant Alberto would know where she was.
“Call Alfie,” Kaz commanded after taking a breath, starting back for his apartment, ignoring the sirens he could already hear in the distance.
Rus frowned. “For what purpose?”
Ejecting the clip, Kaz counted the bullets—or bullet, as it were—before sliding it back into place. “It’s time to pick a side.”
Her screams echoed in his ears the most.
That blood-curdling yell that made his skin feel like it was crawling. Even hours later, it still made him anxious to the point he couldn’t sit still.
Vasily had yet to call, nor did he answer the number he had called from before, but that did lead a little more credence to what Rus was trying to tell him. His father knew enough about keeping his hands clean, so if he were really planning to kill her, the phone would be turned off.
But at the moment, Kaz didn’t care for a reason.
He didn’t want there to be ifs and whens, he wanted an answer right fucking then, and if no one spoke quickly enough, he would get the answers himself.
Rus was driving, looking over every so often. Even his lips were moving, probably words of encouragement—or at least ones meant to calm him—but Kaz couldn’t hear anything, even when he looked and could see him speaking.
It was as if everything had gone dark around him.
He had lost his sun.
But he would get her back if it was the last fucking thing he did.
And it was for her that he would level the fucking city, starting with an impromptu meeting with his new father-in-law.
“... and don’t do anything fucking stupid, Kaz,” Rus said, his voice filtering back in as they arrived at a restaurant in a part of the city where money bought silence and most people turned the other eye.
It wasn’t a restaurant he often frequented—mainly because the Albanian syndicate that called this place home made it quite clear they weren’t willing to do business with outsiders. But it was, however, one of Alfie’s favorite meeting places.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” Kaz said as he shoved the door open and climbed out, his finger wrapped around the trigger of a pump action shotgun. “Nothing fucking stupid at all.”
“Remember, you kill one of the Albanians, you earn a blood debt—and you know how they are about that shit.”
Kaz did know. He just didn’t care.
His men were already waiting for him, all ready for what he would do next. Shotgun resting on his shoulder, the doors were opened for Kaz as he walked in the narrow shop, all eyes turning to him.
No one moved, nor did they speak as Kaz and the others came in—they had already been warned. A man standing near the back staircase nodded his head in its direction, a silent message that the men he was here for were upstairs.
“I’m not sure how that would be profitable for me, Mr. Shelby.”
Kaz could hear the muffled voice as he cleared the landing, heading for the office at the end of the hall. A few of Alberto’s men were standing outside the door. The moment they saw Kaz coming, they were reaching for their guns, but they saw very quickly that they were outnumbered.
“I care fuck all whether it’s profitable for you, mate. It’s the better business deal.”
Alberto didn’t get a chance to respond to Alfie’s words, not when Kaz reared back and sent his foot flying against the door. The wood splintered as it shot open, slamming back against the wall and startling the three men seated—all except Alfie. He merely sat back.
Pointing his gun at Alberto, Kaz’s aim didn’t falter. “Get up.”
Alberto grew red in the face, his anger apparent as he swung his gaze around to Alfie. But if he thought a glare was enough to move the Brit, he was mistaken. “Bad luck, mate.”
“This isn’t—”
Shifting his aim just slightly, Kaz pulled the trigger, firing a round into the potted plant just behind Alberto. The vase exploded, sending bits of pottery