Chapter 3

• Vladimir stormed out of the corridor, leaving a stunned Zarina behind. His smirk evaporated as soon as Zarina moved from his sight. He was suddenly all business and no play. His demeanor was void of emotion, just as he preferred and probably was.
• He was making his way to his room, shirt half-open, exhibiting a streak of his tanned skin, and blazer low on his shoulder, when his phone rang.
• Despite the fact that he was awake, his eyes were tired as hell, and he was looking forward to a lengthy and relaxing bath. The call could, however, have been urgent. This type of organisation required his undivided attention. He slipped his hand into the pocket of the trousers and took out his phone, not wanting to waste any more time.
• “What?” he yelled, ignoring the caller ID. He just wanted to get it over with, fully intending to make the caller’s life miserable if it wasn’t an urgent call.
• When the caller responded, his brow furrowed and he came to a halt.
• “When?” he asked as calmly as he could.
• “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He hung up.
• * * *
• Vladimir was regally resting in one of his colossal halls down in the basement, meant for important business meetings. He was as calm as the summer sea, but his threatening gaze was fixed on the door. Only a few of his most trusted men accompanied him.
• Vector, being one of them, was standing tall and menacing to Vladimir’s right. The suit wrapped around his muscled body was as dark as his eyes. He showed no emotion, similar to the night he kidnapped Zarina, but was on his toes and ready for any instant orders he might receive from the boss. At his back were two more men in black suits, Marcus and Shane.
• On Vladimir’s left was Michael, an old man in his fifties, the only man in the hall whom he respected deeply. Standing half-leaning against the bar at the back of Vladimir, he was stirring his fourth scotch. Working for so long in this organization earned him great respect and honour from each member. He was a business pioneer, and his suggestions profited them to a great extent. His advice was second-to-none in Vladimir’s organization.
• No sooner had Michael gulped down his scotch in a single swig, Xavier, a young man in his late twenties, ferociously stomped inside and stood straight across the table where Vladimir was sitting.
• “Where is she?” Xavier barked, coming straight to the point.
• Vladimir stared at Xavier for a few seconds, taking in his exasperated look and irksome tone. He then, with no care in the world, shifted his commanding gaze to Vector, at his right.
• “Red room,” answered Vector, obeying his master’s silent command.
• “WHAT?” Xavier clenched his fist. His eyes went redder than fire, and the bit of calmness he was trying to keep had burst into a single shot. “What the fuck, Vladimir? She isn’t any prostitute!” he snarled, banging his fist against the hard table and leaning forward with frustration.
• Vladimir’s lips twitched to one end. Still resting on his comfy chair, he too leaned forward and whispered.
• “Just because the same blood runs through our veins doesn’t mean it will stop me from cutting out that fucking tongue of yours. So mind it, fratello.”
• Vladimir eyed his irksome brother, watching the threat sink in. The tension in the room was increasing inevitably, but no one dared to intervene.
• “And just because you’re older and the capo of this bloodthirsty organization won’t stop me from showing who you really are.”
• Xavier snapped back instantly. Unlike the other people present, he looked the least afraid of the beast in front of him. His hands left the table and returned to his previous standing pose, complementing it with annoying features.
• “Oh veramente! You know better. Who am I?” Vladimir stood up leisurely, with a menacing smirk playing on his lips. Taking soft steps, he walks closer to his angry brother.
• “You are nothing but a worthless piece of shit!” Xavier spat the insult without a blink of fear or regret on his face. “That’s who you are. Niente!"
• “You have no idea how fucking close you are to a bullet in your head,” Vladimir threatened with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. He wasn’t the most patient man, and he never made empty threats. He was the beast and knew only how to kill, but his brother always failed to take his warnings seriously.
• Xavier didn’t move an inch. He would never cower down to his brother’s threats, and that wouldn’t change, no matter how violent they became. He knew him since childhood and still held the hope of finding the Mir he knew and respected, who was now lost and broken.
• “Calm down, Mir! Lui è famiglia." Michael interfered, sensing the increasing tension in the room. He is family.
• “He’s standing on his feet and still breathing. I’m this close...” answered Vladimir, without shifting his killer gaze from Xavier and smirking cunningly.
• “Xavier, you wanted that girl. She is here. Why don’t you take her and leave?” Michael said calmly as he walked towards the bickering men.
• “I will. Gladly. But not now,” said Xavier, finally shifting his gaze to Michael, who was now standing in between them.
• Michael’s brows arched. “Why not?” he asked in utter confusion. “What’s the problem?”
• “Your men are the fucking problem!” yelled Xavier, looking at Michael before he glared back at Vladimir. “Do you have any idea who the hell your men shot last night? An undercover agent. A fucking agent!” Xavier screamed while running his hand through his hair.
• “What?” Michael’s eyes widened in shock. Vladimir, however, remained unfazed as he simply rolled his eyes out of boredom.
• Michael looked at Vector for an explanation, but in return, Vector just bowed his head down and maintained his silence.
• “Now the entire department is involved in this shit. This time they won’t let it go,” Xavier sighed. “I need time. Till everything settles down. I’ll take her then,” he added with further hope that at least Michael would understand.
• Yet Vladimir’s expression said otherwise.
• “Don’t shít her on us, Xavier. She can’t stay here. Just take her and never show your fucking face here again.” Vladimir was getting impatient now. He took a step behind him and strode back to his chair. The patience he was trying to keep wasn’t calming his urge to slice into someone in two.
• Xavier exhaled. “Even I can’t risk keeping her here, but what choice do we have?” Xavier looked at Michael. “She’s a bloody tourist. Cops are looking for her like dogs. She can’t leave this place. At least for a week.”
• “A week?” Vladimir scoffed. “Are you insane?” Everyone’s head turned. In outrage, he kicked the chair he was sitting on with a loud bang, which went flying, only to get smashed against the wall.
• Xavier chuckled. “Why not, Mir? Are you afraid of something?” he teased, knowing full well the harsh gravity of the situation.
• “You weren’t born yesterday, were you?” Vladimir said, transforming his furious face into a teasing smirk. “I am Vladimir. I fear none.” He turned to face Xavier.
• “Maybe this Vladimir doesn’t, but the Mir I knew did.” Xavier’s eyes softened.” He feared. He fucking cared.”
• Vladimir mocked. “He died long ago, Xavier. You and your so-called father burned him alive,” he said, disgusted even by the thought of his father.
• “Respect, Mir! He’s your father too.”
• “Yeah. In hell.”
• “You are afraid, Mir. I can see it. It’s fucking clear in your eyes,” replied Xavier, taking one step closer to Vladimir and pointing his finger at him.
• Vladimir locked his gaze on Xavier. Daring him to go one step further or say another word. Xavier remained motionless, unfazed by his brother’s ready-to-kill gaze.
• It irritated Vladimir to no end. His glares spit fury at Xavier. If only they could kill, his brother would have kissed his grave long ago. But something was preventing him from tearing his brother’s tongue or head from his body. His palms were buzzing with need for blood. While giving Xavier death stares, his hand moved to his back and reappeared, brandishing a shotgun.
• Bang Bang!
• Gunshots echoed around the room.
• “Ahhh...fuck!” groaned Vector, pressing up against his shoulder.
• “You fucked up, Vector, you pay for it!” Without even looking at him, Vladimir yelled.
• “I’m sorry, boss,” Vector said, clutching his flesh wound to halt further blood loss. He was in excruciating discomfort, but he refused to move from his position.
• “Three days. That’s all you have,” Vladimir said as he slammed the gun down on the table.
• “Fine,” Xavier sighed, “I’ll take her after three days.”
• “Good. Now leave,” Vladimir said as he strolled back to his chair, which had been replaced by one of his men.
• “Not before you move her somewhere else. She won’t stay in that Red Room,” Xavier stated, causing Vladimir to pause.
• Vladimir turned. “That’s your problem, Xavier. Do whatever you please. You aren’t any guest here,” he said as he walked to the bar.
• “Fine. Then I’ll take her to where she belongs. Her own room. You don’t mind now, do you, brother?” Xavier said smirking and shoving his hands in his pockets.
• “Just Leave,” Vladimir whispered softly under his breath while pouring himself a drink. Xavier heard him crystal clear and stormed out of the basement, leaving behind a frustrated fratello.