This felt very much like some riddle and one I wanted no part of.

  The other two men were also well known; Pierre Moreau was from a wealthy Parisian family who’d garnered their fortune through vineyards while Spaniard Emilio Sanchez had close connections with a Spanish cartel. Neither one appeared to have particularly unusual or dangerous backgrounds, but I knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.

  As well as basic actions.

  Hoffman approached, a smug look on his face. Perhaps he was mirroring mine.

  “Vissarian. Good to see you again. Pierre Moreau and Emilio Sanchez.”

  “Yes, I’m aware who you all are.” I shook their hands, nodding to all three men, almost instantly pulling away. While most of the rubble had been removed, there were still remnants from a rock wall fronting a path that led into an overgrown jungle.

  “As always, reputations can be egregiously outdated.” Ludolf was enjoying the moment. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”

  I glanced toward the water. There were too many things about the man that bothered me. “Yes, very nice accommodations.”

  “And you saved a dog. News travels fast,” Emilio added. “With a beautiful woman no less.”

  “His pilot,” Ludolf told him. What was the point?

  I slowly turned my head.

  In Pierre’s hand was a rolled-up blueprint. I’d seen the renderings before, the designs already emailed.

  “Why don’t we cut to the chase with our meeting,” I suggested. “I’ve looked at the plans and while they appear to be a beautiful representation of a resort and casino, which is certainly something Dmitriyev Enterprises is known for building, you certainly have enough European connections that you don’t need our expertise. So why are you really suggesting the alliance?”

  The three men looked at each other, Hoffman obviously amused.

  “A man who appreciates getting to the point. I do admire that. Then that is what we will do.” Hoffman wasn’t a man full of gestures. He was cold and calculating, much like every other German I’d encountered over my years of doing business.

  I remained quiet, learning a long time ago that silence could often be an excellent weapon if for no other reason than being able to pay attention to nuances. Gestures. Twitches. Body tics. Even changes in breathing habits.

  It was interesting that they were all cool cucumbers. They weren’t going to hide who they were.

  “We would like an alliance with the Dmitriyev Bratva.” Pierre made the statement.

  Perhaps I was expecting a grand gesture of some kind.

  “A Bratva on the other side of the world from Moscow. I understand you’re having significant issues with our Russian brothers.”

  Ludolf cocked his head. “As expected, your Pakhan is a knowledgeable man.”

  “Yes, he is. Which is why I’m curious as to your reasoning for asking me to attend this meeting. Don’t get me wrong, the hospitality is appreciated and seeing the site of the proposed resort is helpful, but it could have been done with aerial shots.”

  “Do you understand the power the Bratva wields in Russia and beyond?” Ludolf asked.

  I laughed half-heartedly. “I was born in Moscow. I know exactly how powerful they try and portray themselves to be and that they will use any method of criminal activity to get what they want.”

  “They are afraid of you.”

  Ludolf’s admittance, whether real or simply an attempt to stroke my ego, was still amusing. “Is that your point in asking for our involvement? Surely this resort is not the reason for an alliance.”

  “I believe the alliance will be of great value to both organizations and send a powerful message to the Russians.”

  “Ah, you want us to be seen as your muscle.” There was more to this, I could tell, and what the hell did I have to do with this?

  “Yes, a helpful addition to working together,” Emilio answered. “But that’s not all.”

  “Okay. Get to the point.”

  “The Russians aren’t working alone any longer. They have formed an alliance of their own with the Cosa Nostra from Sicily. They have branches in several cities across the United States.”

  While I bristled from hearing about another Italian group, the information meant nothing to me. Or at least it shouldn’t. “And I care why?”

  “You are aware there are smaller Cosa Nostra factions within the United States. Yes?” Pierre was serious.

  I had to laugh. “Yes, as evidenced by a friendship developed with the Costa Syndicate, something you obviously learned from various magazines over the last couple of years.”

  “Yes, of course,” Ludolf said. “But the factions we are talking about are as dangerous as the Russians.”

  “Good for them. While I do appreciate the opportunity to consider expanding our resorts worldwide, as I’m certain our Pakhan told you, we are really not in a current position to do so at this time.”

  “You do realize that our alliance would make us the most powerful organization in the world. Yes?”

  Ludolf was nothing if not insistent.

  “Yes, I’m certain you are right, but power is in the eye of the beholder. Thank you again, but I won’t be recommending to our board of directors that we continue considering this option.”

  “We could easily control aspects of various industries through our alliance and connections alone.” Emilio was equally frank. “And I assure you that there are substantial… perks to working together.”

  “You want to rule the world financially.” My comment was off-handed.

  Ludolf laughed. “You underestimate our power. Combined, it will be even greater. I’m certain both you and your Pakhan are aware you have enemies all over the world.”

  “A necessary evil,” I answered. “But given we are nothing more than businessmen and women, forging a different path, we handle every danger entirely differently than before.”

  The three men laughed. “Come now,” Ludolf added. “The reputation of your former Pakhan and his brother continue to create fear in syndicates throughout the world.”

  “Again, I don’t disagree with you. What does this resort have to do with this future you have planned?”

  “Call it a safety net. A secure location in a country that holds no particular alliance.”

  Sighing, I glanced at Pierre after he made the statement. “We have no interest in going backwards in our methods of handling business. We are content with our power and wealth.”

  “Your father would say otherwise.”

  “What does my father have to do with this?”

  “Let’s just say he was someone of importance to my father.” Ludolf lifted his eyebrows, waiting to see my reaction.

  “Good for him. While this is a decision for a full board of directors to make, I will be recommending that we don’t accept your offer.” They weren’t ready to divulge whatever hand they were holding. That alone pissed me off.

  As soon as I started to walk away, something prickled my senses, which put me on edge. I almost reached for my weapon.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight, Mr. Dmitriyev?” Ludolf’s voice was entirely different than before, the lilt of amusement as if dropping a bomb.

  I stopped short, slowly tipping my head over my shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

  “Women play an important role in our cultures. Sadly, they are often used as pawns in the game of power. Arranged marriages are still prevalent in our world. While we might like to think of them as barbaric, they are useful. They bring two families together such as the case with your cousin and a member of the Costa family. However, they and the relationships are often vulnerable especially when feelings are involved. Plus, when someone disobeys the rules, even trying to run from who they are, lives are put in danger.”

  What in the fuck was he talking about?

  Now I was simply pissed. I swung around to face him. “What is the point, Ludolf?”

  “The point being Ms. Zimmerman holds more power than you’ve yet to ascertain. I doubt she is aware, but simply for the blood running through her veins, she is important.”

  “How so?” I took a step closer, doing everything I could to curtail my anger.

  “I believe it for you to discover if you’re so inclined. If you decide to go your separate ways, then it won’t matter. Then again, you are connected.”

  I half laughed. “So cryptic. You should know I don’t like or tolerate riddles. Unless they come from my father. Enjoy your afternoon, gentlemen.” This time, I wasn’t going to allow anything to stop me.

  “Let me ask you one last question, Vissarian. Wouldn’t you like to know who murdered your fiancée fifteen years ago?”

  CHAPTER 17

  Vissarian

  “What the fuck do you know?” I demanded.

  Ludolf smiled. “Enough to know you’re still in pain from what happened. Through an alliance with us, we can help provide the answers to end your nightmare. However, in doing so, Pandora’s Box will be opened. I’ll leave you with that for the day. Think about the offer. So you understand, the moment I saw Ms. Zimmerman with you, I realized her appearance was meant to put us on notice.”

  “Of what?”

  “That we’re being watched.”

  Huffing, I couldn’t believe the anger that was at the boiling point, but now wasn’t the best time for me to allow an irrational reaction.

  “You will find our alliance very beneficial,” Pierre added. “As will we.”

  While it went against what I was feeling, I laughed. “You’re blackmailing not only me, but my entire family.”

  “Call it what you will. You use resources as we do. As I said, think about it. We’ll talk further in the morning. So you’re aware, we have a tropical storm warning. You should do everything in your power to keep your companion safe. I do mean everything. She is valuable to more than just this alliance.”

  Was he threatening Fallon?

  It took every ounce of control not to pull out my weapon and shoot all three bastards between the eyes.

  They backed away from me. They’d purposely tossed the carrot, knowing I wouldn’t accept it initially.

  I fisted my hand, glaring at them.

  Without hesitation, I flew at them, grabbing Ludolf around the throat. The moment I slammed him against a tree, both Pierre and Emilio were there, fighting to pull me off.

  With my hand wrapped around Ludolf’s windpipe, it would take almost nothing for me to crush it given my strength.

  “Don’t, Vissarian. This is a puzzle you want answers for. So do we.” Emilio was right beside me.

  “You know more than you’re telling me.”

  “Only what you’ve heard,” Pierre added.

  Hissing, I glared at Ludolf before finally letting him go. “What the fuck is this?”

  “We don’t have all the answers. Only enough to know why our alliance is needed. Ask yourself a question. Why did Fallon Zimmerman appear in your life?” Pierre was calm and collected.

  I raked my hands through my hair. “What are you getting at? Who is she supposed to be?”

  By the looks they gave each other, I could tell they weren’t certain.

  Ludolf coughed, catching his breath a few seconds later. “You have enemies in the Bruni family.”

  As soon as the name was mentioned, I lifted my head toward him. “Go on.”

  “That’s all we know.”

  “You fucking bastard. The alliance is not going to happen. Never.”

  More enraged than I’d ever been, I headed to my vehicle, noticing the wind was already kicking up. My first inclination was to get the fuck off this island.

  But there were still answers to be found.

  A clue had been dropped.

  Fallon.

  “No!” My bellow marked the air with rage.

  Chaos was everywhere, people screaming and racing away, their bodies pushing hard against me as I tightened my hold on my weapon.

  My reaction was instant, my training kicking in.

  Without hesitation, I fired my weapon, catching the bastard between the eyes. Swinging around, I caught another in the gut, shooting him a second time in the head as he turned to run.

  Additional gunfire rang out coming from both the sidewalk and the street. I raced after the one on foot, powering off three shots in a row, each one hitting him square in the back.

  As soon as he started to fall, I took off running toward the speeding vehicle, firing indiscriminately, watching as the driver lost control, crashing into a group of parked cars.

  A bullet caught me in the leg, but that didn’t stop me. I chased after the motherfucker, catching him by the back of the neck and pitching him to the asphalt, issuing two direct shots to the face.

  The sudden quiet was more ominous than the melee.

  Taking a deep breath, I stood to my full height, turning slowly then running toward Megan who was slumped to the sidewalk.

  “No, baby. It’s going to be okay. Everything will be fine. You’re going to be just fine.”

  As sirens sounded off in the distance, I cradled her body against mine, gasping for breath. Kissing the top of her head, I brushed hair from her face. My fingers were covered in blood.

  “No. No. No!” I tipped her head, issuing a dangerous bellow.

  Her lovely eyes, so blue and so full of life, were now devoid of life, her vacant stare reminding me of who I was and the man I’d become.

  The vision was paralyzing. I took a deep breath, blinking several times. Fuck. Where the hell was I? A horn beeped, brakes squealing and I was forced to jerk the steering wheel. I pounded my hand on the dashboard, the cords in my neck straining as I uttered a growl from the base of my chest.

  The Bruni family.

  A name that sparked nothing but anger and hatred. A family I’d blamed for Megan’s death with only a few clues discovered after months of digging. Clues that had been left for me. Like breadcrumbs.

  I’d walked away knowing the three men were just playing a game. Maybe they’d been the ones who’d fed me those crumbs. A goddamn game at my expense. Whatever they knew, they would divulge whether by choice or by force.

  I’d been lured here for no other reason than to toy with my mind, dredging up the only thing they knew they could use against me.

  And what the fuck was the shit about Fallon?

  I smelled a setup.

  After pounding my fist on the dashboard again, I grabbed the phone, dialing Mikhail.

  “How was the meeting?” he asked.

  “It did not go as planned. Do you remember the Bruni family?”

  “Bruni? How could I forget? A low-level Cosa Nostra wannabe family you wanted to crucify. What about them?”

  “That’s what we need to find out. Ludolf insinuated that’s who killed Megan.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. Why bring that up after all these years?” Mikhail half choked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “If what they hinted at is true, it would appear the Brunis are working with our fathers’ old comrades in Russia.”

  Mikhail whistled. “To gain better access to the Europeans.”

  “That’s my guess.”

  He snorted. “That’s quite a story. I don’t like it. They think we are the only Bratva to stop them. Because of your hatred for them.”

  “Yeah, and my own father knows more than he’s told me for all these years.” I shook my head, trying to keep my eyes on the road.

  “Be careful, Vissarian. No matter what we’ve become, respect is still required.”

  Now I laughed. “So the fuck what? We’re in a new century the last time I checked.”

  “With the old methods and heritage still firmly intact. Try and think rationally. There’s more going on here. Get back to Vegas as soon as you can. We’ll ask Uncle Ivan questions together. That’s an order.”

  “Yeah, I heard you,” I huffed. “There’s more.”

  “Do I dare ask?”

  I debated how the fuck to handle this. Maybe a peace offering before I grilled Fallon. “Not yet. You’re going to need to trust me.”

  “From what you’ve told me, you could be in clear danger.”

  “Ludolf and his gang didn’t bring me to the island to kill me. They did so to warn me face to face.”

  He exhaled. “Still a dangerous game to play.”

  “I need to figure out some things. I’ll let you know when I need your assistance. Right now, I need time.”

  “Goddamn it, Vissarian. Don’t do anything stupid. As I said, be careful. If they are willing to take on the Russian Bratvas, we could be dragged into a war.”

  “I know. I’ll give you a call.”

  Mikhail made a sound. “I know you too well, Vissarian. You’re holding something back. You need to talk to me.”

  “It isn’t enough it’s possible my own father has known all along who killed Megan?” The edge I’d been suspended from was becoming slippery. How many nights had I lain awake planning exactly what I’d do to every single person involved? I knew how the game worked. While the Jamaican assailants had been dressed like any other basic criminal either ready to break into a store or attack innocent bystanders for a grab and run, I’d known better.

  They’d worked in tandem, every move calculated as the most dangerous soldiers were trained to do.

  Their precision and timing had indicated whoever they were working for was well organized, soldiers acting as a hit squad. Their movements hadn’t been those of random criminals as none took the time to become that organized.

  All I’d managed to do was to kill the men who’d pledged their allegiance to whatever master had paid them cash under the table.

  To this day, the person who’d given the orders remained at large.

  Maybe not any longer.

  “Do you remember what happened after Megan was killed? Do you even know how her death changed your personality and how long you were in a desperate state of mental decline?”

  “Mental decline?” I headed into the small town, searching the streets for a goddamn pet store. I didn’t even know if they had any. How stupid. What the hell did I think I was doing, playing house with a woman who could have purposely been forced into my life?