Page 143 of Bad Bishop
Finally, I hopped inside, pressing the sole of my boot against his windpipe.
“Well, well, well.” I smirked. “Fancy seeing you here, Lyosha.”
_______
Alex was the only one who came out of the ordeal alive from the Bratva’s side. After shoving him into one of our vans, we did a body count to assess the damage on our side. Six Camorra soldiers, two Irish. We loaded them into a different van, leaving the Bratva corpses to bake in the Nevadan heat.
“How long till we get to the warehouse?” Luca plopped down on the seat next to Alex, bandaging his arm with precision.
Alex was zip-tied, mouth taped, and staring daggers at me.
“Twenty more minutes according to Waze,” I said, ignored his ogling.
“And we’re sure we won’t find any surprises there?” Luca squinted.
“Sam said Slava and Jeremie are there, waiting for Alex.” Achilles downed an entire bottle of water. “Maybe a few soldiers manning up the entrance point, but that should be it.”
“Do we kill his brothers when we find them?” Luca turned to face me.
Alex didn’t flinch, but I knew better than to interpret that as indifference.
“Not before I say so.”
“And the sister?”
“Stayed home. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” I had no issue killing women. Especially a Rasputin woman.
I took out Lila’s sketch when no one was watching. Well, no one but Alex. But I could withstand that embarrassment, seeing as he had about another hour before I put a bullet in his head.
The portrait was splattered in blood—probably Bratva’s—and wrinkled as shit. I still pressed it to my nose and breathed it in, relishing the fact she held it not too long ago, thinking of me as she drew me.
The rest of the journey was quiet. Luca was busy treating his broken limb, Achilles was staring out the window pensively, and I was messing with my phone, trying hard to look like my skin wasn’t crawling with Alex’s unrelenting gaze.
Something was amiss.
This felt easy.
Tooeasy.
The Russians were more capable than that. I knew, because I trained with them for fourteen years.
“How’s Sofia doing?” I penetrated the silence. Luca’s head snapped up. He looked dazed.
“Huh?”
“Your wife. She’s pregnant,” I reminded him. “How’s she doing?”
“Okay, I guess.”
The fuck was wrong with him? I’d detected more emotions from a cum stain.
“You guess, or you know?” I pressed.
Luca shot me a cold glare. “Get off your high horse, bastard. A few months ago, I had to pay you not to rape my sister. You’re no authority when it comes to marriage.”
“That miserable, huh?”
Luca worked his jaw back and forth. “You’ve no idea, man.”
