4

(SEVEN MONTHS LATER)

SAVIO RUSSO

“You think he's going to talk?” Ronan asked, rolling his sleeves.

I pulled out a flask from the inside pocket of my leather jacket, taking a sip of vodka as I examined the broken state of the Mexican fucker where I had him hanging like a carcass. “I'll make him talk,”

Like I didn't have enough shit to deal with in-between the Bratva and M.Js and Triads attacks, and finding the bitch who'd been working for Tymon and Salvatore, now there was a new cartel trying to worm its way into the underbelly of crime.

After Lorenzo, Dimitri, and I burned my father's operation to the ground, the flesh peddling in Vegas had been reduced to a minimum. And now, this new cartel had made the mistake of moving into the area I considered home. New York.

Flesh peddling was something I hated with vengeance, thanks to my father, Salvatore Russo. Our mother had been a sex slave. Even though Salvatore had married her, he hadn't hesitated for a second to beat her to pups and rape her right in front of her sons. It was some kind of punishment he had come up with. It was a disgusting act. And when she couldn't take it anymore, she tried to escape with the help of Lorenzo and I. Father had caught us, and as punishment for our betrayal, he had forced Lorenzo to rip out her heart. Otherwise, he'd kill Dario and me.

It was the last death I witnessed. I'd been hiding behind the staircase, Lorenzo wasn't even aware that I'd witnessed it all. But that night, I'd made a vow of honor. Soon, it became more than a mere promise to hunt down sex traffickers and burn their operations to the ground.

I glanced at my Rolex. It was five after eight and this asshole was already making me late for Elena Duval birthday dinner.

I moved closer to the Mexican. His body shivered in fear, and my smile widened.

Finally.

My eyes drifted over the blood and gashes covering his body. “As entertaining as this has been, I'm growing bored. Which cartel? Tell me,”

He parted his lips, and I watched as the last of his fight drained from the Mexican. “Tonia Guerra,” 

The single word exploded in the air and every muscle in my body shook with distaste.

Tonia Guerra. The last remaining survivor led the sex trafficking operation in Montenegro, where we rescued Leona and Skylar.

Tonia Guerra had gone into hiding right after I had killed the Polish Mafia don, Tymon Mazur and Lorenzo had killed our father, Salvatore Russo. Ronan and I had searched for the bitch, but surprisingly, I couldn't find her, and trust me, I could find anyone I wanted. Unfortunately, not this time.

“Why is she moving into New York,” I asked as I pulled out my gun from my back. My fingers flexed around the engraved steel of my Heckler & Koch's handle while I waited for his reply.

Every cartel involved in sex trafficking knew it was better to avoid the countries Lorenzo, Dimitri, and I ruled over, and even Tonia had been smart to keep her distance, well, up until now.

“I don't know. We were just told to expand into the US…” He paused, “To get your attention,”

I nodded, lifting the gun, and trained the barrel between his eyes. “Thank you,” Then you pulled the trigger.

Ronan immediately made a call to Roger Davis. He was head of our clean-up team, who'd usually dispose of human trash after we were done.

I kept my eyes fixed on the Mexican dead body, feeling nothing for killing the man. Instead, anger simmered in my veins.

“I thought Guerra would be smart to continue laying low,” Ronan said as we trekked out of the warehouse to our car.

“It's a good thing she isn't,” 

“What the fuck is she planning?”

“I really don't care,” I climbed into the car, and so did Ronan. “But she wanted my attention, and now she has it. I hope this time she'll be brave enough to step out of whatever damn cave she's hiding, and then I'll finally put a bullet through to her head,” For Skylar Duval and for all the women that had been victims of Guerra’s gruesome reign.

*****

I arrived at the Ford mansion where Dimitri and Elena lived just in time before dinner. Elena was celebrating her twenty-third birthday. It was her first celebration after the murder of her parents by the same Slovakia Mafia who had killed Dimitri's father and brother. 

To be honest, she has a lot to celebrate about. She'd gotten back Krystal Group and got revenge on the Whitmans, who played a part in the murder of her parents. She'd found Zoey, and now, Skylar, who we thought was dead, was back in her life. Trust me, it'd been a wonderful year for her, including successfully making the almighty Dimitri Castello fall headlessly in love with her. I never really saw that coming.

“Happy Birthday Elena,” I pulled her in for a quick hug before handing her the flowers I'd picked up with Ronan earlier in the day.

“Thought you wouldn't make it,”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” I nodded at Dimitri in greeting, before pulling my attention to my brother and his wife Tiffany. All hell would have broken loose if they weren't in attendance tonight because Tiffany and Elena were best friends. They were more like sisters.

I walked over to give my little niece and nephew a kiss on the head. Sometimes I couldn't believe that Lorenzo, who had the most ruthless reputation within and beyond Vegas, was really a father of two lovely twins. Nikolas and Katherina were barely two months old already. Nikolas was a spitting image of Lorenzo when he was a baby, while Katherina looked more like Tiffany. So sensitive and fragile. She didn't know it yet, but she was the safest girl in Las Vegas, probably in the States. Lorenzo would burn down the world to protect Katherina. Of course, Dimitri, Dario, and I would be right by his side.

My gaze did a quick round past Dario and Zoey, and expectantly, it fell on the woman who'd managed to invade my thoughts. Skylar Duval.

It had been seven months already since we made it out of Montenegro, and this was the second time we'd been meeting like this. Face to face. But that didn't mean I hadn't been keeping tabs on her. It was impossible not to, even if I'd been busy moving from one country to another, taking down cartels into sex slavery. 

I'd seen her more times than I could count through security footage of the penthouse she was staying at. Her personal guards appointed by Dimitri also gave me daily reports on her, along with Dr. Perez, the therapist she'd been seeing for the first five months since her rescue before she'd stopped attending her scheduled sessions.

One would think after all these months, Skylar would have begun making progress, but it wasn't so simple. Her nightmares and the trauma she suffered in Montenegro still stayed with her. 

She pulled her lips into a friendly smile as her blue eyes met mine. Her face was a picture of sorrow. Anyone couldn't tell she was fucking dead inside and it fucking killed me.

I had no idea the depth of my obsession with her. What it was about this woman that made me want to be her savior. Her protector. Her whatever-the-hell-she-needs.