Page 4 of Cruel Russian Monster
She had to know who I was; that was why she came back to the bar. It was a setup from the start. Get close to me and tap out after a while just to mess with my head.
I wanted revenge! But Lev needed me. We had siblings to take care of and the Safin faction to keep above water.
But now that she was back in my sights, my thirst for revenge heightened. Revenge was best served cold and all that shit.
She left a hollowness in me that could never be filled. Now, years later, she was the reason why other Bratva factions were alienating themselves from us, opening us up to more enemies.
There was a thin line between love and hate, and Vera would soon know which side of the line I stood on.
Vera moved out of sight further into the store. Five minutes passed, and I didn't see her again.
Where the hell was she?
I got out of the truck and entered the boutique. The little bell above the door jingled. My body tensed with each step as I scanned the aisles, eyes hunting for red curls and a familiar scent. But she was nowhere to be seen.
Then I spotted it. Another exit at the back of the store.
Fuck!
Vera had slipped away.
I walked back out, my fists clenched by my side.
“You can run, Vera,” I muttered. “But you can’t hide forever.”
She was out of Philly, stupidly alone and unprotected.
This was the opening I’d been waiting for. The perfect opportunity to strike. The Rykovs would never see it coming.
Chapter 2 - Vera
Crouched behind a row of parked cars, my heart pounded against my ribs as I watched Jaroslav climb into his truck and drive off. I waited five more minutes, just to be sure, before hurrying to my Uber and heading for the Airbnb.
I’d managed to convince Artyom that I needed some time away, a solo vacation without my brothers or any security detail. I even traveled under a different name, Autumn St. Clair, complete with a fake ID and credit cards. Whenever I went out, I made sure to wear a wig.
But the truth was, I wasn’t running toward relaxation. I was running from the guilt of knowing I’d caused a massive rift between the Safin and Rykov factions.
I’d been in town for a few days, and today I decided to hit the casinos to get out of my head. On the way back, sitting in the back of my Uber, I noticed a truck following us. My pulse quickened, and I told the driver to take me to the boutique. I’d visited it a few times before and remembered it had two exits. That way, if I really was being followed, I had a means of escape.
As soon as the car pulled up, I jumped out, slipping inside. Seconds later, the truck parked right outside the window. A chill slid down my spine when I recognized the man behind the wheel.
Jaroslav.
I knew it was only a matter of time before he confronted me, especially after the past we'd shared.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting my thoughts drift back to the first time we met.
I was still in college, and midterms were kicking my ass. Zahkar had decided I needed a break, so he took me on a quick trip to Delaware. We hit a club that night and had a great time, dancing, laughing, and drinking. But after Zahkar passed out in the hotel room, I was still too wired to sleep.
So I slipped out and drove to a bar nearby.
I was just at the bar instead of a table; I figured it was safer that way. The music was loud, the lights low, and I was nursing my drink, content to be alone and anonymous.
Then this guy walked up to me and leaned in close, asking for my number. I could smell the alcohol on his breath before he even spoke. My instincts kicked in immediately; I needed to exit before things escalated.
His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the bartender was all the way at the other end of the bar, busy mixing a drink. I tried making eye contact with him, but to no avail. I told the guy I wasn’t interested, making sure to keep my tone calm, but he wouldn’t let up.
When I finally stood up to leave, he grabbed my arm.
