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to use my life to wager that he can get Kostya out in the open if I don’t do something to stop it.

The problem is, I don’t know what to do.

This is one of those moments where life means nothing and everything. Where my decision is the only thing that matters.

I need to buy as much time as I can, so I bring my hands up, wipe away the blood from the corner of my mouth, and pick up the paper.

“Okay, I’ll do what you want.”

20

Kostya

I’m standing in a room of idiots. Idiots I pay to be smarter and more loyal than they are.

Yelisey has pulled me aside, out of earshot of the collection of law enforcement officers gathered around a conference room at the back of the police station. “Kostya, she’s one woman in a world full of them. Let’s take a minute and consider things before you set the world on fire trying to save her.” His voice is low and he’s dangerously close to me for a man giving such bad advice. “Her mother is blackmailing you.”

And there it is. “And you think if I let Charlotte die, her mother isn’t going to up her demands? Or blame me and go public with what she has?”

I’m not certain how much evidence she has or what she can prove. Not to mention the thought of leaving Charlotte at the mercy of Whelan and his men makes my gut ache.

“We will find Charlotte.” My tone leaves no room for discussion.

He nods obediently and moves away as our man at the FBI slides his phone into his pocket and walks to the edge of the conference table where I’m standing. “We have video from a street cam.”

I watch the footage on a computer screen. Charlotte—I’d know her anywhere—being pulled from the car, swinging her arms wildly, staggering and falling to her knees after Jack Whelan himself slams her head against the roof of her car. A car she should never have been in, on a road she should never have been on, looking at an apartment she should never have needed.

Blyad.

I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to find her and make this up to her. If it takes days or weeks or years to make it up, I will do it.

But finding had better come faster. Much faster.

The chief of police, Ken Sumner, is leaning over a desk looking at a computer monitor with traffic cameras pulled up. “Kostya, I’ve got her. She’s at the Diamond Owl Garage on Melrose.” He points to the screen. “There’s Whelan’s SUV. And there’s her car.”

I glance at Yelisey. He’s standing with his arms crossed and his feet spread. Classic warrior pose. He’s plotting. Planning to save Charlotte. Not because he cares about her or because I do, but because he lives for the fight.

Once Charlotte is clear of the danger, I’m going to let him have his fight. As bloody as he wants. Kill every Irishman in the city, for all I care.

Sumner turns from his monitors to stare at me. “We can go in and get her.” He’s seeing dollar signs, the expectation of a gratitude payoff, and the prospect of the headline CHIEF TAKES DOWN IRISH MOB gives his face a fresh sunny glow.

But I can’t allow anyone but my men and I to go in after Charlotte. No one else will care about the crossfire or who is caught in it. I refuse to risk Charlotte or her safety. I look at Sumner. “Thank you, chief, but we’ll take it from here.”

“Kostya, I can’t let you—”

I send him a mild smile, a silent warning to stop speaking so I don’t have to embarrass him. Now that I have answers, I can communicate the intensity and absoluteness of my power with nothing more than a look.

“My men will handle the live situation. Of course, we’ll need you on standby, but in a more conservative position.” For the most part, I need him to keep the story out of the papers. But he likes to feel useful and in the interest of our working relationship, I encourage that.

Though he nods, I can tell he’s unhappy with the situation. I tell Vlad—because Yelisey is still deep in thought—to put a man on the chief. Last thing I need is him and his bumbling deputies getting in my way.

“Anything else?” Vlad asks. Like Yelisey, Vlad is always ready for battle. He’s young and big, strong as a bull ox, and it’s going to take more than a bullet to bring him down.

I nod because I have a special assignment for him. But I can’t speak of it now with the sheriff, the chief, and ten deputies standing within earshot. “Back at the house.”

He nods once then moves away to speak on his cell phone while I watch the chief. I hope Sumner isn’t going to be a problem. He’s newer than I would like for a job like this, could be an unpredictable factor in this operation if I don’t keep him on his leash. Right now, I need all the pieces to fit tight.

There is no room for error.

An hour later, I can’t sit still any longer. I’m tired of waiting for answers, for my phone to ring when I can be out on the street finding out for myself, making things happen as I did for my father when he was in charge.

The Teddy Bare Lounge on La Brea is one of Whelan’s. And even though his men should be on high alert, there’s more than one staggering around the perimeter of the building to the alley.

I’m not in the mood to wait, so I open the door to the SUV and cross the street. Yelisey walks beside me.

We are stealthy, quiet, blending in with the blackness of the alley. We sight our target and approach from behind.

Yelisey throws the bag over our captive’s head as I use the butt of my gun to knock him

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