Louis
“What does that have to do with me, then?” I frown, not looking at Olga. My gaze is focused on the growing darkness behind the window and the reflection of the coffee shop.
She chuckles grimly. “They needed a scapegoat, of course. So Yuriy blamed it all on the Messinas, saying that you wanted to get revenge on her.”
Oh, damn it. I put my elbow on the counter, rubbing my forehead. Now, it’s starting to make sense, but the realization only makes me feel bitter. How could Sasha blindly believe such a lie? How could she think that I’d do something so cruel?
Well, at least she knows the truth now.
As if in response to my thoughts, I hear a commotion behind me, some voices and the rustle of jackets. When I look up, I see Sasha standing a few feet behind me and looking around with a look of distress. I’ve never seen her so shaken and open in her emotions, and something in my chest tightens. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her hear all that-but both of us deserve to know the truth.
I noticed Sasha’s car as soon as I entered Bedford Park, and it didn’t take long to figure out that she was following me. Did she want to fight me again? Maybe. So my first instinct was to drive somewhere else to confuse her before taking a more complicated route to the coffee shop. But halfway through my plan, I realized that it’d take away my only chance to let Sasha hear the story of my innocence from Olga’s lips.
She didn’t believe me, but maybe she would believe her own aunt. So I turned around and drove straight to the coffee shop where I walked around for a bit, hoping to catch Sasha’s eye-and it worked. Everything worked out exactly as I wanted, and now it looks like Sasha needs a moment to process what she just heard.
With an inaudible murmur, she rushes to the entrance and out of the coffee shop. She doesn’t even look behind, and it’s a clear indication of her distress and confusion. I watch Sasha through the blurry window as she stops for a moment to gather herself together before running away to her car. God, it must hurt, but I’m sure it’s for the better.
I sigh and lower my gaze to the counter while my thoughts drift deeper into my heart. If only she could trust me enough to let me talk to her and hold her through this pain. If only we could be an actual couple…
“Is that all you wanted Alexandra to hear?” Olga says with a smirk in her voice, and I blink in surprise and turn to her.
“You knew-”
“Of course I did.” She quirks an eyebrow, looking at me from under the sides of her hat with a glint of amusement. Olga’s previously gloomy expression is nowhere to be seen-it’s obvious that she’s just as good at hiding her true feelings as everyone else in her family. “My niece may be a good spy, but she’s too young to be able to trick me.”
Oh. Well…
“Thank you for helping me, then.” I give her a small but genuine smile before turning away to the window. It’s better if we show as little connection as possible. “It means a lot to me and my family, Mrs.
Pushkova.”
“You can call me Olga.” She briefly squeezes my elbow with an oddly friendly tone before getting off the stool. I see her clearly in the reflection on the window, and she lingers next to me, fixes her coat, and looks around. “I think it’s time for our families to find some peace, don’t you think?”
Olga sends me a quick glance and, without further ado, walks away to the entrance, leaving me with a confused frown. And what is that supposed to mean? Aren’t we at peace already?
I don’t dwell on her words for too long, though-I have enough on my mind already.
I wait a few minutes before going out of the coffee shop after Olga and, reflexively checking my surroundings, go to my car. The rain has stopped, but the streets are still wet and bleary, lights dancing in the dark puddles. Where did Sasha go now? I get into my car and breathe out, leaning back. God, I hope she just went straight back home.
I rub my face, shake my head, and turn on the ignition when my phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket. Is it Sasha? But no, I see Omero’s name on the screen, so it must be something for work. I feel mentally drained, and for a moment I consider ignoring the call-but eventually I pick it up. I wouldn’t want to miss out on some fun.
“Louis?”
“Hey, man.” I turn the steering wheel, driving out of the parking space. “I hope you’re calling to say we just got a good deal. I wouldn’t mind some good news here.”
“Well…” Omero clears his throat, and it’s obvious enough that his news isn’t good at all. Goddamnit. “No, not really. I’m just calling to ask about your wife.”
Sasha? I frown. “What about her?”
“Do you know where she is?”
“At home, I assume.” And I really hope so.
“Alright, well, I don’t know what to tell you.” Tell me what it is, get to the point. “We just saw someone like her driving into Orland Park.” Oh, shit. It’s the biggest part of the Bratva’s territories.
I slam on my brakes at the intersection and close my eyes with a groan. Goddamnit. She’s gonna get herself in trouble, and-shit. Isn’t Nikolai’s place in Orland Park? I grip my wheel tightly, barely fighting the urge to hit something. Doesn’t she understand how fucking dangerous that is?
“Thanks, Omero.” I clench my jaw and focus on the road in front of me as I make a sharp turn toward Orland Park. “I’ll check on her.”
I can’t let Sasha get killed because of her own weird obsession with revenge, but I don’t think my own family would appreciate me going straight into the Russians’ territory on my own. So I keep it quiet and drive between our posts with the confidence of a man knowing what he’s doing. I have to play it cool, and then, even if someone spots me they may not report it right away.
For this reason, I have to drive slowly, but it’s killing me. Sasha may already be in a trap or fighting her crazy father, and I’m stuck here because I want to be so damn cautious! Fuck that! I run out of patience very quickly, and close to the Russian border I pick up my speed and follow the directions on my map. Thank god I decided to do my research and check where Nikolai’s mansion was even before the wedding.
Okay, now I only have to figure out how to get there without attracting unnecessary attention from the Russians-but as soon as I think about it, I realize that it’s already too late. With a loud growl, two cars turn onto the street behind me, flashing their lights and honking at me. Shit. I haven’t even done anything yet!
Should I stop? I glance at the rearview mirror. They seem pretty aggressive, and if I try to escape them now…well, I may just as well blare about my presence to the rest of the Bratva. I think it’s better to play it cool for now, so I pull to the side of the street and stop. With the active truce between our families, they can’t harm me, can they?
“Get the fuck out of here!”
“What did a pig like you forget in our neighborhood?”
The men start yelling as soon as their car stops next to mine, and I have to breathe in before going out. No one dares speak like that to Louis Messina, but I can’t get myself in trouble. I have to think about Sasha first, so I even show them my empty hands as I get out, blinded as I am by the lights of their cars.
“Who are you?” one of them finally speaks up without cursing and with a steadier voice-a higher-ranked member of the Pushkov family, I
assume.
“I’m Sasha’s husband,” I say, carefully choosing my words. It’s not a good place to speak about my last name, but judging by their whistles and chuckles, I guess they recognize me anyway.
“One of the Messina guys, huh?”
“You must be either too brave or too stupid to drive like that in our territory.”
I frown. What are they talking about? Have they forgotten about the truce?
“I’ve signed a deal with Nikolai. I have a free pass through your territories,” I remind them, squinting to see their faces behind the car lights. I don’t recognize their voices, and it would be nice to know who the hell I’m talking to.
“A free pass?”
The calmer man laughs, and everyone else immediately joins. Their laughter is mocking and certainly unfriendly, and I feel a rush of adrenaline at the sound of it. Something’s not right. I tense up, trying to calculate the fastest way to get out of here, when the man speaks again.
“There’s no truce, you naive dumbass.” He chuckles. “We only needed a pretense to get closer to you before we take over Chicago once and for all.”
What? I blink and try to look at them better to figure out if it’s some kind of bluff. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, it’s-
Damn it, he just confessed that the Russians plan to betray us! It sends a wave of heat through my body, and I move my arms-but the men raise their arms at once, and I don’t have to see them properly to know that they’re aiming their guns at me.
What, is that it? I chuckle and shake my head. “So now you’re gonna kill me, huh?”
I hear excited whispers and chuckles running through the men surrounding me, but the calm man shushes them before turning to me.
“We don’t want to upset little Sasha and destroy Nikolai’s plans for you. So, with all the generosity of my heart, I give you thirty seconds to get the hell out of here. If you’re still inside our borders by the time we catch you, count yourself as dead, Louis Messina.”
Well, it’s better than nothing, so I nod at him. “Thanks.”
But that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to obey the orders of some fucking Russian freaks.
I rush to get into the car and open the driver’s window, pretending to be nervous and scared out of my mind. I hear them laugh when I drop the key and lean down to get it from under my seat. What they don’t know, though, is that I have a gun hidden there specifically for a situation like this.
As soon as I sit up, I turn on the ignition, push the accelerator, and open fire through the window. They start yelling and cursing at me, firing back, but I weave my car onto the sidewalk, honking at the passersby, and take the next turn to speed into an unfamiliar street. Next time, these bastards will know not to laugh at the Messinas.
Were they telling me the truth? Are we actually gonna start the war with Russians again? No, it’s not the time to think about it. My wife is still somewhere here, looking for a way to get caught by her father, and she should be my first priority right now.
I force my mind to focus on the chase; thanks to the element of surprise, I’m ahead of the Russians, and I have to use it. It won’t take long till others join them, and if I keep driving around like this they’ll catch me in no time. No, I need something else. Think, Louis, think.
As I drive through a secluded street, listening to the sirens and honks of the Bratva in the distance, my eyes catch the cars lined on both sides of the road, and my brain lights up with an idea. But damn it. I hate sneaking away and avoiding open confrontations, but right now a fight may cost me and Sasha our lives, and I can’t risk that.
I have to make sure she’s safe first, so I pull the car close to the sidewalk and, with a quick glance to the side, run down the street until I find a small, old car. The Russians would never expect me to steal it, and that’s exactly why I decide to take it. I have to be one step ahead of them- and then, maybe I’ll be able to get out of here alive.
I learned the art of stealing cars when I was a teenager, and even though my knowledge has become rusty over the years, it still works well enough. The car does let out a loud beep at some point, but I quickly cut it off and climb into the car. Now, let’s try to turn it on.
While I’m dealing with the ignition, I see the lights of a car on the other end of the street and freeze in my place-but it’s just one of the locals driving back home after work. The car passes me a few seconds later, and I breathe out and focus on my new car instead. Come on, I know you can save me, I know you can work.
I bite my lip, connecting the wires, and oh miracle, the engine vibrates and turns on in response. Perfect! Now I have to get out of here as soon as possible. For now, the Bratva is focused on searching for my car, but as soon as they find out that I’ve left it behind, they’ll figure out what happened-and then they’ll use all their forces to find me.
I’m pretty much breaking the truce by being here, but haven’t they done it first by not allowing me to enter? Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. I’ll talk to Riccardo about it later-right now, I have to follow the directions on my map and find Nikolai’s mansion before Sasha does something stupid.