Page 37 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Nikolai walked toward the blown building just to get a moment of privacy.

His jaw was tight, his teeth grinding against each other. A look at his watch told him it was almost five in the morning now. He’d been here for two hours, and the situation wasn’t getting any better. The fire was out now, the emergency workers double-checking to make sure there were no additional safety issues, but everything was a mess.

What had once been a small jewelry store was now a hole in the ground, a hollow shell of its former self. There were bricks and insulation and glass littering the street. Shards of mangled jewelry lay in the rubbish.

It was a huge, expensivefuck youfrom Vitale. Nikolai had been fielding tantrums from the man all week, but those had been small and expected. He’d had a shipment of metal almost go missing, a petty smash and grab at one of the other stores, and one of his suppliers had stopped answering his messages.

All of it had Vitale’s filthy fingerprints on it. He’d been sporadically sending Nikolai messages all week, threats to “give him back what was his, before it got worse.”

Bargaining wasn’t working and it wasinfuriating.

It was one thing for Vitale to fuck with Nikolai. It was another to blow up a goddamn building. Vitale had not only caused damage and injury to innocent bystanders, but he’d gotten the cops involved.

In their line of work, that just wasn’t done. Something that grabbed a headline was inviting scrutiny, and it was akin to mutually assured destruction when you were operating businesses skirting tax codes and import laws.

Nikolai knew Vitale was pissed, but he didn’t understand why his reaction was so goddamn disproportionate. It wasn’t like the threatening texts he was sending to Nikolai were even really aboutBrooks. When Nikolai read them, they sounded like a spoiled child angry his toy had been taken away. A child who was throwing a tantrum, with no thought to the repercussions.

Maybe that was part of why Nikolai was so angry. He hadn’t foreseen this outcome. In all his planning, even the worst case scenarios hadn’t accounted for Vitale acting like achild. Involving thecops.

He’d been led to believe Vitale was spoiled, but also a capable businessman. That he’d been raised under the guidance and rules of his family just as Nikolai had. Vitale was supposed to be the next head of his family.

So what the fuck was he doing involving the cops?

It killed Nikolai that innocent parties had been hurt. Killed him that he was partially to blame. This was not what they’d planned for. Kidnapping Brooks was supposed to be the easiest, cleanest way to cut Vitale down, to strong-arm him into shutting down his seediest ventures.

How had it gone so wrong? They’d done so much surveillance, paid for so much information. Vitale was jealous, possessive, but this…

Nikolai stared at the ruins of the building. His insurance would cover all the inventory and the brick-and-mortar. They would lose the sales in the time it took him to open another shop, but this wasn’t going to devastate his bottom line. He’d be fine in that capacity.

The worst of it was the innocent people caught in the crossfire, and the attention of the police. Because now, along with tightening his security, he’d have to go downtown and talk to the uniforms. They’d both have to sit there and pretend like they didn’t know something else was going on, like Nikolai wasn’t lying straight to their faces.

Arresting Vitale wasn’t in the cards, even if Nikolai gave them everything. Whatever was to be done, it wouldn’t involve the courts and justice system. Nikolai knew that perfectly well.

Now he was beginning to wonder if the solution to the Mattia Vitale problem needed to be more permanent.

He’d need to talk it out with Gerard and Meredith later when he was feeling less bloodthirsty. When he could have a better idea of what the fallout would be if Nikolai made it personal. Permanent.

Because if one was going to cut the head off the snake, it was best first to make sure it wasn’t a hydra.

***

Before Nikolai got back home, his phone buzzed with a message from Meredith. She’d gone to the hospital to check on the neighbors, which Nikolai was grateful for.

He swiped open the message as he climbed out of the car, thanking his driver, Horace. Horace was newish to Nikolai’s team, and the man was as silent as they came, which Nikolaiappreciated at a time like this. Alex and Pyotr were staying at the crime scene to monitor it.

The texts from Meredith said the woman was currently in critical condition. She’d taken a piece of shrapnel to something vital, and the doctors were working to save her life.

The anger Nikolai had managed to tamp down on flared back to life. He shoved his phone back in his pocket so he wouldn’t throw it.

Fucking Vitale.

Fuckinghimself.

His father had spent a lot of time in his adolescence trying to beat the empathy out of him. Nikolai wasn’t upset that that lesson had never taken. It was a part of why he’d pivoted from the “family business.” Sure, he still did his father’s dirty work, butNikolai’sbusinesses didn’t involve drugs or people. He hated innocent people getting hurt.

This whole thing was because he was tryingtoavoidinnocent people getting hurt.

His neighbors were nice people. Nikolai always made it a point to be friendly, to make sure his neighbors understood who was operating next door to them. That if they had any problems, saw anything questionable going on, that they’d come directly to him. He’d handle it.

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