Chapter 0003

ADONIS

After hours of damage control at the casino, Dom and I returned to the warehouse where the drama had already started.

Our latest rat’s, Nico’s, screams echoed through the metal door of the basement. Those sounds would only get louder and fiercer. I hated traitors. Betrayal was punishable by a slow, painful death.

I paused and turned to Dom. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything I should know before I go in?”

“Julian called,” Dom responded in a hushed tone. “He said the club’s full of teenagers. Mostly. Everyone is being drugged, men and women.”

“Stop all of it. Clear the bar and get everyone back home safely,” I ordered. “And I need Nico’s lackeys. Catch as many as you can. I need to know how many people they’ve transported till now and where.”

“Okay.” He nodded, dialling on his phone.

“This racket needs to be stopped.” I pushed the rusty door open; the handle stained with dried blood.

Nico’s hands were shackled to the ceiling with thick metal chains that made his wrists bleed. His blood dripped down his forearm, staining his half-sleeve shirt while he remained kneeling before me. His eyes froze on me, horror filling them.

What a lovely view!

A soldier voiced from behind Nico, “Here’s the traitor you asked for, Capo.”

My mouth twisted into a wicked grin, my gaze trained on the traitorous bastard. I could see it, feel it, even smell it—his fear.

I commanded, “Take his shirt off.”

The soldier, with his knife, tore the dark shirt, clung to his body, and with it was gone his dignity.

I couldn’t imagine the humiliation of being on his knees in front of these many men, all the soldiers he worked his, and his capo. He knew what he would get when he betrayed me.

I crouched. “Do you know what this is, Nico?” I traced the Omerta tattooed on his chest, a branding of his submission to me. He didn’t respond. “The vow of always and forever being loyal to me and only to me. You’ve broken it.” Nico peered up at me, his eyes flickering with tears. “You’ve betrayed your own people, but above all me.”

With a shaking voice, he blurted, “You can’t kill me. I know what I've done, but I’m willing to change. You can keep me as your rat against the Russians.”

I kept my calm, despite the revelation. From the look on Nico’s face, the word Russians had mistakenly slipped out of his lips. At least now I knew he was working with the Russian Mafia, popularly known as the Bratva, and smuggling women and children.

This was all part of that big fucking chain that had started twenty-four years ago. If I was right, I knew who Nico and the other rats had been working for.

“A traitor’s always a fucking traitor, Nico. You would’ve said the same thing to that damned bratkis if this situation were to be reversed.”

He shook his head immediately, but there was a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. “With the war and the Bratva, you’ll need me.”

“Need you?” I asked, raising my brows. The soldiers in the room chortled. “What makes you think I need you?”

“Because they trust me.”

“And you think I do?”

The soldier walked around to me and handed me the pliers he had in his back pocket. Nico’s shivers returned. Every tremor, every fucking squeal, I was going to enjoy immensely.

I pulled his hand toward me, despite the tight chains holding it in place, and he winced at the pressure. Gripping his middle finger between the sharp blades, I questioned in a mutter, “How long have you been involved in their racket?"

The metal doors opened and Dom entered the room, his eyes glinting with rage. “We cleared the club. Caught three brokers.”

“First, you steal cannabis, hallucinogens, Rophynol, the Special K. Do you know how much each packet of those costs? How much you’ve robbed from me?” I roared at Nico’s face. “And now you go behind my back and get involved with the Ivanovs?”

The name set an alarm inside Nico. His chest heaved with fear and regret, confirming my intuitions. I bet he wished he could turn back time and undo his mistakes. Too late.

I pressed the pliers like breaking a frail leaf from a branch. Blood splattered on my dark shoes and the concrete floor. Nico screamed in pain, his eyes on his limp finger on the floor.

“Don’t do this, Adonis. I have a wife,” he whimpered.

“Yes, you do. And the girls you trade have families too. Have consent.” I moved onto his forefinger and repeated. He screamed again, louder than before.

“Wait, I’ll tell you.” I arched my brow at him. He begged, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Good boy.” I snickered and handed the pliers back to the soldier beside me. Dom inched closer too, to listen in. “Keep going until he spills all that he knows—his informants, where he keeps the girls, where he delivers them, and who picks them up. The drugs he uses for spiking and drugging the victims and the ones he sells off. I don’t care if this fucker dies in the process, but not before he confirms the location of the Ivanovs.”

“What if he dies before?” the soldier questioned, to be on the safe side.

“Then we move on to his three other lackeys. It makes thirty more fingers and toes.”

Receiving a brisk nod, I exited the room with Dom.

“I thought you'd end Nico then and there,” Dom said, amused.

“A wise man knows better than to make rash moves, Dom. We need information from him, and he needs to be alive for that.” I glanced at him. “Inform deputy chief Bishop of this mess. The NYPD might come in handy if this reaches the media.”

“Okay.”

One look at his face and I knew he had been dying to ask me. “Go ahead. Ask what you have to do ?”

He shrugged. “How did you know it was the Ivanovs?”

“Did you see that poor motherfucker’s face when I mentioned them?”

“But you sounded so sure of it. How did you know?”

“Like two families rule New York collectively as Cosa Nostra, Bratva is ruled by three families, bonded by a very fickle alliance. Human trafficking, however, is rooted deep within only one of the families.”

“The Ivanovs,” Dom understood the matter.

“Yes.” I went on, “If I’m right, one of the Ivanovs is wreaking havoc from within my territory. We just need to find out where he is hiding.”

“They might not be as reckless as they were four years ago.”

I remembered the entire matter clearly. In collaboration with the LA Crime Family, we uprooted one of the three Ivanov brothers, who ran a drug trafficking and testing chain. But the two other Ivanovs were still alive and causing trouble even four years later.

“We’ll have to dig deeper, but we can’t let them slide this time.” I sighed, settling into my car outside the warehouse. “Now, I need you for some genuine advice.”

“I’m all ears.”

“About the war. Who do you think we should side with?"

“By any chance, are you talking about the war between Outfit and Camorra?”

I arched a brow at him. “Is there any other war I’m not aware of?”

He vigorously shook his head with worry morphing into his face. “No. That’s not our war, Adonis. We already have the Ivanovs to deal with as you said.”

“But if we were to side with either of them, which one would you prefer? Give a technical answer.”

He regarded me before speaking up, “I would go with the Outfit. Allying with them will be highly beneficial for us. They’re well connected to politicians and law enforcers overseas, which would make it easier for us to negotiate and extend our trade. And they’re currently looking for efficient partners for shipping and transportation matters, which we can provide at ease. Plus, their capo is a tactical man. An excellent partner, as I’ve heard.”

“Hm...” My voice trailed off.

The Outfit would be delighted to be in business with us, no doubt. With the war going on, what were the chances of us being spared? Weren’t we all pawns in this twisted world?

“What the hell is going on inside that twisted brain of yours?”

I smirked. “A good proprietor never reveals his plans.”