“You see, it pays to have your finger on the pulse of not only your Bratva, but also on what is happening around you. For example, I have reason to suspect that Ribeiro and Los Segadores are responsible for what’s happening, so I have a finger on those two pulses.

  “I also have reason to suspect that they have inside assistance, so I put a finger on that pulse, too. Bog blessed me with many fingers, Makar,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “I can take many pulses.”

  Makar Azarov was well known for being many things. Ruthless, both in business and with his enemies, arrogant, self-serving, a liar, a cheater, and a cock sucking son of a bitch. That’s why his reaction to Dad’s words didn’t surprise any of us.

  Watching Dad dispassionately, Makar smirked. “It is the way of our world, Bogdan. To focus on one area leaves us open to all of the others, and that’s what leads to someone shooting us in our backs.”

  Wearing the same expression and using the same tone of voice, Dad smoothly replied, “Only the weak would shoot a man in his back. A true man, worth even an ounce of respect, fights an equal battle.”

  His point was clear—if you intend to challenge me, you do it like a real man to my face, and don’t try to kill me while my back’s turned like a coward. The implication hung heavily that he wasn’t a real man worthy of respect—which he wasn’t.

  Makar’s eyes flared slightly at this, but he said nothing.

  “You may leave now.” Dad looked up at Zoran, making it clear he was to remove them both if they didn’t go.

  “What about our marriage?” Donna argued, crossing her legs in what she must have thought was a sultry move, but just looked like she was a child preparing for another tantrum. “We came here to fix the problems, and I won’t leave until that’s done. I love my husband—”

  Dmitri snorted quietly beside me, and I was struggling not to do the same thing.

  “Ms. Azarov,” Dad started, stressing the word Ms., and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the sneer that moved across her face. “I know I don’t need to reiterate the terms the marriage occurred under. However, if you do need them to be repeated, I’m more than willing to do so.”

  Donna sucked in a breath like she was about to argue back, but her father made the smartest decision he’d made today.

  “Zamolchi,” he growled, and it was clear from the way she looked sharply at him that she’d never been told to shut up a day in her life.

  Get used to it.

  Glancing briefly at me, Dad’s right eye twitched slightly. “Taras has kept me updated from the beginning of this as to whatever agreements you came to, and I fail to see why you have a problem with them right now.”

  Unable to abide by the order from her father, Donna hissed, “The problem is that we should be together. We should be in the same bed. Our families need an heir—”

  “As I understand it, your brother is the heir to the Azarov Bratva,” I interrupted her with a point that she hated. “He runs it in Russia, and is more successful than your father is. His choices are wise, and he’s a great Pakhan. Any heirs to your line will come from him, not from you, as you well know.”

  Before she could fire back anything at me, Makar stood, yanking her arm to do the same thing. “We’ll be going.”

  Not offering him a hand, we all remained in our seats, a sign that our respect for him had fallen.

  “I would suggest you do so quickly,” Dad murmured, his eyes on the still smoking cigar in the ashtray on the table.

  As her dad moved her to the door, Donna fired over her shoulder, “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Khristos,” Dmitri murmured, rubbing his face tiredly with his hands.

  Leaving my silence as the only answer she’d get from me, I didn’t flinch when she slammed the door behind them.

  Pulling his phone out of his suit pocket, Dad touched the screen, his eyes focused on me now.

  “Benito,” he greeted, making my eyebrows raise in surprise. “A favor, please. I need your lawyer to annul the fake marriage between Donna Azarov and Taras. It’s to be done as soon as possible, and I want it kept quiet. Yes, we’re looking into who he has in his pocket, that’s why I need your man to do it.”

  There’s silence for a beat, and then he nodded. “If you could bring it with you, that would be perfect. There’s one other item I need to be resolved by him. Penelope Hamilton gave birth to twin sons, as you’ll be aware. I’ve viewed the birth certificate, and the father’s name is blank. However, they are Taras’s, so we need that to be amended.

  “I assumed that would be the case, so we can have that with you within twenty-four hours. Again, this needs to be done as soon as possible. Without them carrying his name, they are at risk.”

  Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that. Just the possibility of someone going after the boys and Nell made me want to tear the world apart to find a nook to keep them safe.

  “Easy,” Dmitri said quietly, reading me correctly. “This will be done.”

  Not taking my eyes off our father, I watched as his expression remained impassive to whatever Ben was saying. “Obliged, drug. The Fedorovs will repay this.”

  There was another pause, and the only emotion my father finally showed was to close his eyes slowly, something Ben would have no clue he was doing, and a rare move from the stoic man I’d known my whole life.

  “Omertà, Benito.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d given his loyalty to Ben, but it did.

  To pledge omertà like that to another country’s mafia, especially a Cosa Nostra family, was the same as declaring them family, and vowing to take their back no matter who was attacking them, albeit another organization or even the authorities.

  There could be alliances and even deep friendships, but an oath like that?

  It was a turning point in the alliance between a Pakhan and a Capo, one of the most resonant versions of it possible, too.

  “Spasibo, Benito,” he began, but then stopped as he listened to what was being said. “You think it’s necessary? Fuck, yeah, you’re right. I’ll get Taras to make the calls. Chao, drug,” he sighed, mixing Russian and Italian to solidify the respect he’d given moments before.

  Hanging up, he looked grimly at the two of us. “It is done. Once the boys have the Fedorov name, it will hopefully deter any intended action against them. There are few who’d go up against us, and this just narrows that small number down to one that we can monitor. We know Azarov is working with Los Segadores—”

  “I wish they’d change that name,” Dmitri sighed. “I’ve got a lot of Mexican friends who have our backs. It’s offensive.”

  “It’s amateur,” Dad shot back. “And that’s how we’re going to win this war, because that’s who we’re working with. When the original gang who carried the name was established, they did so because it was decades ago, and we were working with petty criminals. They assumed calling themselves that would boost the fear factor, but all they did was small-time crimes, nothing big.

  “When they were taken over by Abar eight years ago, he used the gang to smuggle his men into the US. From there, they’ve grown and opened up the highways up and down North America to allow them to smuggle what they wanted to, at the same time as reaching their tentacles out to other countries.

  “Ribeiro wouldn’t have been able to hold back, knowing it would give him an in to try and take over the Fedorov holdings. What he forgets is, my tentacles are more substantial and longer than his, and unlike him, I don’t reveal who those tentacles are wrapped around.

  “I’ve spent my whole life showing loyalty to men who deserve it, gaining that loyalty back in return. And now,” he said smirking, “it’s time to show him and his comrades what power truly means, as we avenge the death of our men.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I braced for the answer to the question I was just about to ask. “What calls am I meant to make?”

  Instead of replying immediately, he rubbed his hand over his mouth a couple of times, his eyes unfocused as he looked at the coffee table.

  Finally, he took a deep breath in, then blew it out as he turned to face us again, angling himself in his chair so that he was in full control.

  “When this all began, I figured it was a power play, one to reduce the standing we have here. Then they began attacking the Road Kings’ charters, and it became apparent it was something much more. With the involvement of Azarov, and what we knew when the wedding alliance was established, it’s clear now that he’s a puppet in a huge game of power establishment.”

  This wasn’t something that we didn’t know, but he had more.

  “Ben’s spoken to the president of the Arizona chapter of the MC, the one who lost two men not long ago to this. He’s close to Ben’s cousin, Niro, so they’ve been doing some investigating there. So far, what they’ve discovered in terms of key players in this war means we need to fight hard.”

  Oh fuck, I knew where this was going. I didn’t want to make these calls.

  “Dad, my woman, and my kids are here—”

  “And we’ll take good care of them. Once we have the false divorce papers and birth certificates back, we’ll move them into your house for protection.”

  Dmitri let out a choking sound, getting both of our attention.

  “I’m fairly certain that either Nell or her dad will kill you if you even suggest the MC isn’t enough to protect her.”

  Not finding any of it even slightly amusing, I turned back to Dad, seeing his face looking weary now. “That’s because they’re not, son. If they were, we wouldn’t need to be involving the Greeks or the Irish.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Taras, call Nick the Greek, tell him we’re pulling our marker. After that, call Raig and explain it to him. We have a good relationship with the Ryans, and you’re both as close as you are with Benito. Make the calls and bring them in.”

  “Christ, he’s bringing in the IRA,” Dmitri rasped, struggling to understand this move.

  Leaning so that his elbows now supported him on his knees, Dad nodded thoughtfully.

  “We need the shift in power, and to bring in support from other countries. The farther out our web is cast, the better chance we have to catch the bastards. Los Segadores have brought in a fucking ghost, Dmitri.

  “He slips in and slips back out again without us knowing, and there’s only a few who can do that, Vadim being one of them. The Ryans, Scala, De Luca, and the others give us the extra power we need, while Vadim finds the ghost.”

  Glancing briefly over at Dmitri, I nodded when I saw the resigned look on his face. We both knew this was the only move we could make now, it was just not one that we wanted to bring to Renegade Falls.

  Still, we needed them.

  Standing up, I reached for my phone and started walking to the door. “I’ll make the calls. Bag the cigar and keep it for when we need it.”

  “Taras,” Dad called, and I looked over my shoulder at him as I reached for the door handle. “Eyes in the back of your head, son. You don’t turn your back on anyone. Ben says the paperwork will be ready quickly, so we’ll need to discuss how to play that, too.”

  Smirking, I pulled the door open. “I know exactly how to play it. It looks like there’s a crack in the Azarovs plan, though, given that the dead member of their Bratva was a surprise, and likely a message to them that their time was up.”

  Eight hours later…

  I’d been in meeting after meeting today, and then I’d worked out to burn off the tension those meetings had brought me.

  As a family who may not act legally, we’d also assisted law enforcement enough that we had some members of the government behind us.

  With bodies turning up publicly, I’d had to explain the situation to some of them, assuring them that we’d take care of the people responsible quickly. Sometimes they were happy for us to take control to save them the headache, and this was one of them. Not that they had a choice, but I didn’t have to tell them that.

  As I’d been doing this, another body had been discovered after it was thrown off the edge of a bridge.

  This time, the man had been killed the same way as the others, but he’d also had a rope looped around his neck, instead of being left on the ground. The length of it had stopped him three feet above the ground on the interstate, and had been timed to coincide with three Mac trucks traveling in a convoy for a company.

  The first one hit him and caused a pile-up on the road, ensuring enough attention was drawn by news channels and civilians to the body and what was written on him.

  9 11

  Fedorov

  The 911 could have been a message to our law enforcement friends, but nowadays, people understandably attributed it to the atrocities of 9-11, the day the world stood still.

  And this was exactly what had happened because of the deliberate space left between the 9 and 11. There’d been outrage amongst the onlookers, mostly as the man was half middle eastern.

  Worse, he was a guy I knew well, who had a wife and four kids. He was someone who I had a lot of respect for, and who was incredibly loyal to the Bratva.

  After I’d sorted that out, I’d made time to see Nell and the boys, and had finally gotten to speak with Lena properly.

  Of course I knew who she was as soon as I saw her. Few people in the US wouldn’t know the Twisted Saints brand's most famous face, especially as she was the main Hellion for them. My men were blown away by her, but I only wanted the woman who’d given me my sons.

  It’d been nice to see them home and out of the hospital, almost like life was starting with a fresh slate. There were enough worries outside of that little bubble, but being inside it, even for an hour, made me feel like I could breathe again.

  For that hour, I’d gotten to focus on my sons and Nell, and I’d been able to do more things that solidified my new role as a dad.

  I didn’t realize the difference any of that would make until that moment.

  I’d only had an hour of that feeling before I’d gotten a call back from Raig, giving me an update that might tip the balance of this war in our favor. We had his support regardless, but he’d wanted extra power, and had reached out to the Council.

  The IRA was made up of different groups, who all deferred to the IRA Army Council. There were generals for various departments that they could go to, and an IRA Executive.

  Still, Raig’s family was one of the biggest and strongest in the Republic of Ireland, so he was able to bypass them and get closer to the top.

  After he’d explained what was going on to them—no doubt adding in the threat to the businesses the IRA had in the USA—they’d agreed to lend us soldiers and firepower if needed.

  I’d taken the call on the doorstep of Nell’s house so that she didn’t pick up anything that would worry her, and had been about to go back inside, when our Greek friend, Nick, had called me back, too.

  He’d teamed up with Vadim after I’d spoken to him earlier, his skills different but no less useful, to find out as much as possible about who we were dealing with.

  I wish I hadn’t fucking known. To conquer an invisible enemy, knowledge was vital. Sometimes, though, ignorance was bliss.

  Los Segadores had been busy making new alliances with armies, cartels, and gangs under any stone they could find. It was glaringly obvious we were dealing with a new breed of terrorist organization, one made up of all the people who alone made headlines in the news. But together, they made nightmares real.

  The Brazilian gang known as the Primeiro Comando da Capital, the PCC, had been spreading through South America for years. They’d also recruited ex-guerrillas from different countries, ex-special forces members, and were a crucial figure in distributing drugs and guns from the South to the North.

  Two years previously, they’d received five hundred members of the San Salvadoran gang known as MS-13, the Mara Salvatrucha, in exchange for assistance in a territorial battle and the escape of two thousand of their members from different prisons around the country.

  The MS-13 had a lot of members throughout the USA, so monitoring their movements would be difficult, meaning plans could be made and carried out by them more easily, than if members were to travel up from the South across the Mexican border.

  It turns out, though, that one of the other gangs they’d apparently taken control of was none other than Los Segadores.

  For all of their strengths, we should have known they had help when the bomb went off at the Road Kings. The PCC was well known for doing things like that, whereas Los Segadores were more into guns to fight their wars.

  We weren’t just dealing with a ghost, we were dealing with a fucking army, who could make Armageddon a reality if we didn’t fix it soon.

  I’d relayed this back to the appropriate people, Raig included, and it’d changed the war entirely. It was no longer just about the Fedorov family, this was about all of us keeping our territories.

  Knowing all of this, it’d pissed me off, and I’d had to leave Nell and the boys early to call a meeting with Dad and Dmitri.

  We’d used secure lines to thirty-three other groups, all of them trusted allies now, and the War Council had been formed. It wasn’t something we did lightly, but this was so much worse than we’d thought.

  Because we were still trying to verify who in the Bratva could be trusted, and if there were any rats, we’d had to decide what details could be relayed to our soldiers and lieutenants, a predicament I don’t think we ever thought we’d be in.

  But now we were ready.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nell

  Four weeks later…

  “So, what’s the deal with you and my brother?” I asked Lena as we folded up the latest load of laundry.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d asked her, but I was hoping if I kept it up, she’d finally give me an answer that wasn’t, “Who?”

  “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

  Turning her back to me as she folded a towel, she mumbled, “He looks familiar, but I don’t know where from. I haven’t had a chance to ask him.”

 

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