Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(116)

Bargains





Eight Months Ago…





Following the hostess to a table in the center of the room, away from the other diners seated nearby, Mishca pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and saw his wife’s smiling face staring back at him from the vibrating device. Before it could ring too long, he switched it off. For this meeting, he didn’t need any interruptions, nor did he need any distractions.

And then there was the fact that the man he was meeting had insisted on it.

He declined the menu offered to him but did order two fingers of Scotch, needing something to take the edge off. It wasn’t making it to the top that was hard, it was remaining there that the work came in.

Mishca had never thought it’d be easy taking over where Mikhail had left it. There was the constant monitoring of accounts, ensuring everything ran smoothly, not to mention the sheer amount of people he had to account for. And with the men Mikhail had under them, Mishca had spent the better part of the last year rebuilding and bringing in people he trusted.

But the last person he’d thought to doubt was Luka.

Before he’d left for Italy, there was no reason for him to think that once his guy finished digging into everyone’s pasts, there wouldn’t be anything about Luka that he didn’t already know. Maybe the body count was far higher than he’d anticipated, but that was just the price of working with someone like him.

Except the night he got the call, the last night of his honeymoon, in fact, he didn’t believe it. But no matter how it was repeated to him, no matter how he’d asked for the facts to be reevaluated, the answer was still the same.

Six years ago, when he’d gone to that house in the middle of nowhere and found the brother he hadn’t known existed—the torture he’d been through was Luka’s work.

Of course, he’d never thought the two were related. It wasn’t as if Luka had appeared immediately after Klaus had gone off, and after all, Luka had worked under Mikhail for more than a year before he’d come to Mishca. Of course, now he could see it. No one Mishca knew was as good with a blade as Luka was.

Even stranger was the fact that Klaus hadn’t spoken a word about it, and while there was always that animosity between him and Luka, Mishca had just thought it was because of Luka’s personality.

He might have felt betrayed by what Luka had done, but in the end, he couldn’t be any angrier than Klaus was, and more than that, he had only been a pawn in the grand scheme of things. Mikhail had truly been behind it. And if anyone was going to beat the shit out of Luka for what he’d done, it would be Mishca.

But word had gotten around that Fatos and his minions were on the hunt for Luka, and Mishca knew it wasn’t just because of Bastian’s death. There was too much history there. Too much left unfinished. Bastian was the excuse. Maybe, in a perfect world, if Luka hadn’t butchered Bastian, the Albanians might not be plotting to take him, but Mishca knew that it was all a waiting game.

So long as Luka lived, they would be waiting to take him out. The only way they could prevent a war was to use the excuse of Luka killing Bastian to take him back to their homeland. He didn’t think any of them would bring up what Luka had done to Klaus all those years ago— that was what deals were for—but there was one other thing that Mishca didn’t understand about Fatos.

Why he was so determined to get Luka.

But whatever the reason, Mishca had always hated making deals with the Albanians. And he wouldn’t have to now that he was in charge.

There was only so much Mishca could do without this turning into an all-out war. He’d weighed the odds and agonized over them, but if he wanted Luka to make it out of that—not to mention his wife, his sister, and his organization—then he had to play this the only way he knew how.

That was why Mishca called the only person capable of what he needed done. From what Mishca had learned about the Albanian Fatos, his strange obsession with Luka might be beneficial.

As the waitress returned with his drink, she wasn’t alone.

The man Mishca was meeting was as much a mystery as he was a legend in the black market. Unlike Mishca, who still had a very public profile, as he owned a couple of nightclubs and other businesses, this man practically lived and thrived in solitude.

The only thing Mishca knew about him was that he owned The Den, the organization in which Klaus worked. In fact, this man was Klaus’ handler, at least the new one from what Mishca understood. He was the only person who had enough power that he was able to retain a team of mercenaries that were only loyal to them, especially when mercenaries tended to follow the highest dollar.

Oh, and the name he went by.

The Kingmaker.

Mishca stood out of respect, accepting the extended hand before he reclaimed his chair. He thanked the girl for his drink before she hurried off.

The man sat, his gaze rapt on Mishca. While intense, there was still something his gaze that seemed bored by this. “Volkov. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“We haven’t…” he trailed off, not knowing what to call him.

He smiled. “Names have power, Volkov. I won’t give you mine. Tell me, how can I help your predicament. If I were in your place, I think I would have handed over Valon Ahmeti to the men who want him. Just to save myself the trouble.”