Page 45 of My Mr. Vampire

“She’s in America, so no one really cares.”

“She cares. Go. Talk to Natasha.”

As I watched him, a newfound sense of purpose etched onto his features, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Despite our tumultuous history, despite the scars that marred our relationship, Harlen was still my brother. And together, we would face this threat, no matter the cost.

As Harlen left the office, I leaned back in my chair, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. Despite the confidence in my brother’s words, I couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease that crept along my spine. Harlen’s impulsive nature had always been a double-edged sword, a trait that could either lead to brilliant success or devastating consequences.

I closed my eyes, the hum of the nightclub below fading into the background as I lost myself in contemplation. What if Harlen’s actions inadvertently exposed our world to Marisol’s prying eyes? What if his eagerness to prove himself to me would lead him down a path from which there was no return? The questions swirled in my mind. I had made my home here, and I didn’t want to leave.

The sudden chime of my phone jolted me from my reverie. I glanced down at the screen, a frown etching itself onto my features as I read the message from my head of security.

“Suspicious activity reported near the eastern entrance of The Castle. Possible attempt at security breach. Advise immediate action.”

My jaw clenched, the urgency of the situation crashing over me like a tidal wave. If this was Marisol, there would be hell to pay.

I rose from my seat, my fingers flying across the screen as I typed out a response. “Increase patrols and notify me of any further developments.”

As I hit send, my anger rose to a new level. There could be no room for hesitation, no margin for error. We had to act fast and strike before Marisol and her cohorts.

I strode towards the door, my mind already racing. Did she really have the balls to show up here looking for her scum sucking brother? As much as I didn’t want to take another life, it was clear she was going to end up in Lake Michigan with that murderous bastard.

I barreled down the hall and into the private elevator. In seconds, I stepped out into the pulsing chaos of The Castle. I had people that handled problems, but I needed to see for myself. I was headed to the eastern entrance, the one that led to the alleyway.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator doors, Natasha was standing there to meet me.

“Boss.”

“Who’s out there?”

“It’s your ex-wife.”

“Fuck! Why won’t that bitch just leave me alone?” I walked down the hall with Natasha that led to the rear of the club.

“We could always take care of her.”

“You know we are not supposed to kill our kind.”

“True, but if she is this much of a nuisance, I could always get rid of her discreetly.”

I sighed. “I was hoping she would just leave town. It’s been over and I have moved on. She knows this. I don’t understand why she can’t get it through her fucked up brain.”

“The offer still exists. I could kill her and keep between us.”

“I hear you. Teresa is smart. She hasn’t harmed anyone here in Chicago that I’m aware of. If I kill her, word will get out. I don’t want my people to think of me as a killer of my own kind.”

“I understand, but the offer still stands. I can take her out and then only you would know, and I would know.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ZAND

Natasha and I exited through the back of The Castle into a narrow alley that seemed to tighten as we move deeper into it. Nick stood there guarding the door. Dim lights flickered against brick walls, creating an uneven strobe of illumination that caught the gleam of someone up ahead. She was waiting for me, Teresa. Her arms were folded defiantly. I signaled to Natasha, knowing that Teresa has already spotted us approaching.

Teresa’s silhouette took shape beneath the low beam streetlights, the angles of her body were as sharp and cutting as her demeanor. She never got the hint. She wanted the attention, my attention. I could see her eyes narrow in our direction. She produced a half-smile on her lips like she knew a secret and couldn’t wait to spill it. She didn’t understand that I don’t give a shit.

Natasha followed me at a distance. She was close enough to hear us and close enough to access any threats that could be lingering around us.

“You brought your Russian attack dog,” Teresa called out, her voice echoed like the wicked witch she’d always been, the witch I didn’t notice when I thought I loved her. I ignored the insult. Natasha didn’t take too kindly to insults, but she knew how to keep her cool. She was trained in ways I didn’t even understand.