Page 16 of Gangster's Empire: Leeza & Havel

Leeza stood, hefted the gas can and began tossing gas on all the clothes, inhaling the scent with enjoyment. The sharp smell was already helping her forget the odor of cleaning supplies. She left the closet and sprayed the bed with gas.

“Mrs. Horácek!” Simion said, alarm in his voice.

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped, then took a couple of deep breaths, before saying, “You can call me… ” What should he call her? She wasn’t Adam’s wife any longer and she wasn’t a Koba. Not by birth anyway.

“Her name is Leeza,” Saskia said firmly, but Simion wasn’t listening. He had already left the room, his phone to his ear. She suspected he’d been ordered not to touch her, which definitely helped with her current plan. He was probably calling Havel, but he was going to be too late. It would take Havel at least five minutes to get from the main house to the cottage if he was driving. She could empty her cans and light a match in that time. And if Simion tried to stop her, they would find out if her years of Krav Maga training were worth anything.

Leeza looked at her sister. “You know I’m not a Koba?”

“Not by birth, but you were definitely raised Koba.” Saskia eyed her, then added, “You might be the most Koba one of us.”

Leeza laughed, then noticed Havel’s wallet on the dresser. Oops, he should’ve taken that with him. She doused it in gasoline.

“Jozef and Shaun told me about your father, Vasiliy Stanovich.”

They continued down the hall, pausing at Kris’s room. Leeza couldn’t bring herself to douse his room, though it was going to burn with the rest of the house. It smelled like him and had his things in it. Kris pushed past her, walked purposefully to the bed and hefted his gas can on top, tipping it over and jumping back when it splashed.

Leeza laughed. “What a good helper you are!” She snatched his teddy off the pillow, shoving it toward Saskia, then thought about grabbing a few more things. Kris did best when he was surrounded by things that were familiar.

The decision was taken out of her hands because he’d enthusiastically thrown gas on everything within his reach.

Next, they went to her bedroom where she continued her campaign. She stopped long enough to kneel next to the bed and pull a gun out from between the mattresses.

“Nice, I keep one under my mattress too,” Saskia said as she enthusiastically ripped Leeza’s clothes off the hangers and doused them in gas. Saskia had never appreciated Leeza’s ‘boring’ approach to style. She would have happily burned every last pair of yoga pants and pencil skirt years ago if Leeza had let her.

“We have to hurry,” Leeza said, dropping her empty cannister and heading for the stairs to snatch up the one Simion had put down. She rushed through the rest of the house, throwing gas as she went. Saskia and Kris followed.

Leeza grabbed Kris’s hand and rushed for the front door. As she sprinted outside, she saw Havel pull up to the driveway in one of the estate’s Humvees. He leapt out of the driver’s side, surprisingly graceful for such a large man, and rushed toward her.

"Take him," Leeza said.

Saskia grabbed Kris’s hand and they ran to the edge of the yard. Kris pressed himself against her legs as they both turned to watch the action.

Simion stood a few feet away, looking helplessly between Leeza and Havel.

As Havel strode toward Leeza she took her gun from the waistband of her pants and pointed it at him. She kept the safety on but covered it with her finger so he couldn’t see. She would never risk shooting him, but she couldn’t have him interfere either.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, stopping in his tracks. “Put the gun down.”

She knew he wouldn’t pull his guns on her, which were clearly visible in his under-arm holsters. He likely had another one in an ankle holster and any number of knives strapped about his person. Havel had always been a walking armory.

“This is happening, Havel.” She slid her free hand into her pocket and pulled out a lighter.

“You don’t want to burn your house down,” he said in what she was sure he thought was a reasonable tone, but she could see his annoyance. Probably because she was taking him away from his bromance with her cousin.

She laughed, a good long, hearty belly laugh. “No, I really, really do want to burn this place to the ground.” Sobering, she glanced at her son, who was staring up at the sky. She lowered her voice. “This house is the root of every evil I’ve been forced to endure in the past eight years. I intend to burn the fucking thing.”

Havel raised his eyebrows, then rubbed his chin as though he were having an epiphany. Then he nodded. “Okay, do it.”

Skeptical of his easy capitulation, she kept the gun on him as she lit the Zippo. With a grin, she tossed the lighter inside. It landed on the floor and… did nothing.

“Damn it.”

The flame flickered but continued to burn. Dammit, she missed the gas!

She took a couple of steps toward the door, intending to move the lighter, but then it caught. Flames erupted with a whoosh and raced through the house.

Before she could celebrate her victory, she was lifted off the ground as Havel wrapped an arm around her middle, took the gun from her and dragged her to safety.

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