Wicked Mafia Prince (A Dangerous Royals Romance, #2)(62)

“Fuck,” Pityr says.

“This is good. We can do this.” Aleksio races up the frontage road, racing the thing with the cops hot on our trail.

Aleksio loves to call me a madman. He’s no different.

We get almost level with the engine when we come to the crossing, a line of cars stretched out, like a wall in front of us, stretching out to our right, the train coming up on the left. I spin around in my seat. “Hold on, lisichka.”

I don’t have to tell her. She’s wide-eyed, holding on to the door handle and the back of the seat. Pityr’s riding with a stony face. He, too, holds on.

“Here we go!” Aleksio veers left over the tracks in front of the oncoming train, barely clearing it.

The train barrels by behind us, a thundering wall of steel between the cops and us.

For now.

“We have to ditch this vehicle,” Pityr says. “This Hummer is burned, burned, burned.”

“Agreed.”

Moments later, Aleksio pulls into a commuter parking lot. It’s perfect—many cars nobody will miss for hours.

We all jump out. Pityr hotwires a Mazda. I go to Tanechka. “Are you okay?”

She looks up at me, as if she doesn’t comprehend the question. It’s a stupid question, yes. She’s lost everything—again. Because of me.

I say nothing. There’s just surviving for now. I make her get in the back with Pityr. I take the wheel with Aleksio at my side.

“What happened?” Aleksio asks quietly, tipping his head at Tanechka in the back. She talks with Pityr in low tones.

I shake my head.

He gives me a dark look, and we set off.

“The f*ck,” he says after a bit.

He’s not talking about Tanechka this time; he’s talking about our Russian friends turning. Our best allies are gone—to the most powerful crime organization in the ten-state area…and they’re all united with the cops.

“I had the f*cking money-laundering heist set up with them for tomorrow. We would’ve cleaned him out. It would’ve made us solid with the Russians.”

“The Russians knew about the camera.”

“Probably told Lazarus about it,” Aleksio says. “They probably took it out already.” He tips his head back. “Did they know about Tanechka?

“I don’t think so. Best to assume the worst, though.” Gangsters gossip. “This is on me, brat. I should have spent more time with Dmitri.”

“I missed that meeting with him,” Aleksio says. “But they hated Lazarus. Uniting with Lazarus…what the f*ck is that? This is us underestimating Lazarus. It stops now.”

“Him going after us shows he doesn’t know where Kiro is,” I say. “We’ll go to this prison and take Kiro. Together the Dragusha brothers will rain fire on Bloody Lazarus. And we’ll have our empire back. At least the brothel pipeline has nearly collapsed,” I say. “We’re just waiting for the word from Kiev.”

We switch vehicles a few miles later, nabbing a nice SUV. We head south to Konstantin’s quiet senior village.

Whispering trees line shady sidewalks. Low-rise brick buildings stretch for entire blocks. One unit has the door swinging open.

Konstantin’s unit.

My heart drops.

Aleksio tears into the driveway and jams it into park. He’s out of the car, running for the door before any of us can move.

I take out my Glock and twist around to Pityr and Tanechka in the back seat. Pityr has his weapon out.

Tanechka’s blue eyes are wide. “Stay here until we make sure it’s clear,” I say to her.

I get out of the vehicle in a haze.

Konstantin is dead. I don’t need to see his body to know. I don’t need to hear Aleksio’s cry of rage and anguish from inside the door.

Pityr and I move in opposite directions along the fronts of the low-rise homes, covering the drives and the carefully tended grass with long, quick strides, weapons down at our thighs. We converge around the back. The ducks quack.

We head in.

The old man is on the foyer floor, a pool of blood under his cheek, gun in his hand, the back of his head blown off. Aleksio is on his knees next to him, his head on the old man’s chest.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Stay,” I say. “We’ll clear.”

We steal through the place, clearing room by room. We find no intruders. We find no struggle.

“Mne ochen zhal,” Pityr says to me in the dark hall when we know the place is clear. “I’m so sorry.”

“I knew him only a year. But to Aleksio, he was a father.” I say. “Get Tanechka out of the driveway. And call Mira. Aleksio needs Mira with him.”

I go back into the foyer to find Aleksio. He’s still next to Konstantin, grasping his hand.

I kneel next to my brother and touch the old man’s arm. Still warm. Three hours dead, maybe.

After a while, I pull Aleksio away from the body. It’s not good to let people cling to a body. I take Aleksio in my arms and hold him with everything I have inside me, squeezing him without shame. “Brat.” There is nothing more to say.

“He gave me everything,” Aleksio whispers hoarsely into my shoulder. “He gave up his life to save me.”

“A soldier and a father.” I squeeze him relentlessly, feeling torn apart right down to my heart. This brother I love, so devastated. This brave old man dead.