TWO WEEKS LATER—A SAFEHOUSE NEAR LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
“I hope you get what you want.”
Sinead’s parting words to me still stick like a thorn in my head, needling in so deep that the only way to remove it, is to… find an answer.
I’ve been back in LA for almost two weeks now. I’ve gotten back in contact with all the men still loyal to me. We’ve established a safehouse on the very outskirts of the city.
It’s not as large a contingent as I would have liked. But it’ll have to do. I’m hoping my ranks will swell in the coming days.
Either way, the new safe house is secure and I’m able to operate under Budimir’s radar.
For now.
I’ve got eyes on my uncle, but he’s well-protected. So well-protected in fact, that it makes me wonder just what he’s so fucking scared of.
If he believes I’m really dead, what else does he fear?
The answer is an easy one: everybody.
He’s unsure of the alliances he’s built.
He’s uneasy about his current position, his stolen power.
You better be scared, motherfucker. You’re standing on quicksand. Living on stolen time.
And sooner or later, it will all come to a very sudden end.
Adrik walks into the room that functions as my office space.
“Don,” he says formally. “Got some new reports for you.”
“Any news from Alexei?”
“Not yet,” Adrik replies. “He’s established a contact with the Ratmir gang though.”
“Good.” I shake my head. Lately, I’ve had to focus really fucking hard to get anything done. My head is swimming with so much shit that it’s tough to concentrate on the task at hand.
“I hope you get what you want.”
I’m on the cusp of getting what I want. I’m actively working towards it, anyway.
And yet… it isn’t as fulfilling as I would have thought.
Because it’s not the only thing you want.
Fuck.
“Boss?”
I raise my eyebrows and look at Adrik. “Sorry,” I say. “Repeat that last bit.”
“We had eyes on Budimir coming out of the Four Seasons this morning,” he tells me. “He didn’t look happy.”
“Another alliance gone south,” I infer. “We can’t get complacent, though.”
“No, sir. And also, Svetlana is here,” he tells me.
“Perfect,” I say. “Send her in.”