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Sin of Silence (Sinner's Empire Book 1) Page 5
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Jozef watched her as she worked it out in her head. She was going to have to marry the man who'd kidnapped her, threatened and hit her, and then almost shot her. The man who went against every ethical belief she held as a doctor. She would essentially become his property. Nausea nearly sent her back to her knees. She gripped the doorframe.
He slapped her arm again, and when she looked at him, he signed, answer.
She shivered and whispered, “Okay, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter Seven
Kiev, Ukraine: One day later
Jozef didn’t have a lot of time to plan the rescue of his uncle. Gustav, the man they had beaten for information, had told them where to find the kidnapped head of the Koba family and who was holding him. A rival mafia family located in Kiev, headed by Vasiliy Stanovich, were holding the Koba patriarch in their family estate, located in Kiev.
Once Jozef had identified Krystoff’s kidnappers, he was able to quickly research the family. Ferret out their weaknesses and a likely reason behind the abduction. The current global economy hadn’t been kind to the Stanovich family, as they hadn’t updated technology and techniques to move with the changing times. They were living in the past, hoping to make bank off the old ways; drug sales and extortion. As their family gradually sank into the lower ranks of the Vory, the head of the family had gone to Krystoff three years ago for help and had been refused. Jozef suspected the family took Krystoff for either revenge or to force his hand.
Jozef found a significant weakness in the Stanovich’s armour. A drug-addicted son who liked to brag about his family’s exploits when he was drinking. Havel had gotten the kid drunk and questioned him, in the guise of friendly curiosity, while pumping up the kid’s ego. Pavel had spilled everything, including the fact that Krystoff was soon to be moved. Apparently, Vasiliy had grown impatient with Aunt Dasha’s hedging.
Jozef needed to launch the rescue before Krystoff was moved again or killed. He increased the map size on his laptop and tapped his fingertip against the screen. Havel nodded and scratched his chin. “Never been inside the place, but knowing Vasiliy, we can expect some kind of security detail.”
This was consistent with the information they’d gotten out of Pavel. The kid was being held in a separate room, sleeping off a vicious hangover. It was possible he wouldn’t figure out that he was being held hostage until Jozef’s uncle was returned to the family.
The kid was useless though. Vasiliy didn’t care about his son and would probably thank them for doing him the favour of murdering the kid, who was an embarrassment to his organization. Only the mother seemed to like him, and her voice only counted for so much. But they could use Pavel as a message if they had to, even if it was a weak one.
First, they would attempt to get Krystoff out of the building, and if that didn’t work, they’d go to plan B: mail pieces of Pavel to his mother until she badgered her husband into saving the kid.
Jozef opened another photograph and blew up a picture of the Vasiliy family home. He turned to Havel and gave him a rundown on his plan so far. Together the two men worked on their team strategy, Jozef signing to Havel, while Havel spoke out loud. Havel understood sign language, having worked with Jozef since he was old enough to take on the role of family enforcer, but Havel was more comfortable with spoken language.
Jozef thought of Doctor Shaun Patterson. Thirty-four years old, with a cat and a mother. She would be comfortable using only sign language with him, the way she had when he’d seen her on the street with the boy. It was something he hadn’t realized he craved until that moment in the van when she’d turned to him and signed, please don’t kill me.
After their confrontation in the woods, he’d handcuffed her in the van and driven back to the house to pick up the others. They’d made the long eight-hour drive to where Krystoff was being held and then spent twelve hours holed up with a loyal contact in Kiev as they prepared to hit the Stanovich estate. Shaun was locked in another room, alone, except for the occasional check-in by their host’s sister, Mara. According to Mara, Shaun had barely spoken, except to ask for her freedom, and, when that failed, to ask where Jozef was.
He tried to extinguish the spark that fired inside him when she asked after him. She didn’t care about him. She’d seen him kill twice; she was terrified of him. What she knew of him was that he was the man who had decided to keep her alive. He was her only chance at salvation, which was why she was asking after him. She wanted to make sure he hadn’t abandoned her to a bunch of lethal strangers who might kill her the moment he was gone. He needed to remember that Shaun didn’t care and couldn’t care about him. He was lonely and using their tenuous connection to imagine deeper feelings.
Feelings weren’t allowed in the mafia. At least not when it came to outsiders. Feelings were reserved for family, for those who Jozef was loyal to. Not for a doctor he’d been forced to pick up. She was nothing. She didn’t matter, and neither did the flicker of hope he felt every time he looked at her. His desire when she looked at him from beneath her strikingly long black lashes. The feeling in his chest every time she, an outsider, understood what he was saying.
Once they were married, she would no longer be an outsider. She would be his. To hold, to explore these feelings with, to talk to until he was satisfied.
As if echoing his thoughts, Havel said quietly, “Your uncle won’t like that you kept the woman alive.”
Jozef didn’t respond at first, giving his second-in-command a cold look. Then he signed, she will become my wife.
“You think Krystoff won’t have your wife killed if he thinks she might risk the family business?”
Jozef growled but didn’t contradict Havel. His man was right. Krystoff would put the organization first, before himself, before his love for his nephew.
She will be part of this family, Jozef insisted.
Havel shrugged. “I just want you to think about this, before you make any decisions. Once you free the old man, he will be responsible for making the big decisions once more, including what happens to your girl.”
Jozef looked at Havel sharply. Was he suggesting they not rescue Krystoff? But that would be impossible, it would be disloyal. As far as Jozef knew, Havel was fiercely loyal to the Koba organization.
Then Havel veered away from Jozef’s suspicions.
“If you go ahead and marry the girl without Krystoff’s permission, you’ll risk being exiled from the family and you’re too powerful to be left alive. If you decided to split, you could easily take half the organization with you.”
Ah, Havel was worried on Jozef’s behalf. He wasn’t proposing disloyalty to the head of the family, but caution. Jozef stood and squeezed Havel’s shoulder, then dropped his hand. I will not do anything to jeopardize my position. I will gain my uncle’s permission before I marry the woman.
“And if he denies you?”
It was a very likely possibility.
He will not.
Rescuing Krystoff Koba went as smoothly as Jozef could have hoped, and he had his team to thank for that. Jozef and his men, Havel, Terek, Halil and Nikolay had worked together as a unit for years and operated like a well-oiled machine. They didn’t need words to complete an operation. Their uncanny bond and unfailing work ethic made them nearly invincible. Krystoff would frequently hire them out as a team to do mercenary work in neighboring countries. They had become known as the fiercest mobsters in Eastern Europe.
He nodded to Halil who took the signal, shooting the man guarding the rear garden gate. The man fell noiselessly to the ground and the team moved past him and into the house before he took his last breath. Unless they ran into trouble, the door man would be the only person to die during the operation. They didn’t want to go to war with this family. Not until they had Krystoff and were given the official order.
Jozef needed to understand why his uncle was taken before he would decimate the organization that had made such a bold move.
They swarmed soundlessly through the mansion, not once encountering a single
member of security. This wasn’t because they were heading into a trap, or at least Jozef hoped not. It was because his team knew the exact rotation of the guards and knew how to move as though they were ghosts. Halil and Terek went ahead of Jozef, checking that his path to the cellar room Krystoff was being held in was empty.
It took some time to get the cellar door open. It was locked with a state-of-the-art dual handprint and coded lock. Nikolay was specialized in electronics and worked on the lock for fifteen tense minutes while Jozef and his team covered him. Finally, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Jozef allowed Halil to go ahead of him and then followed. The others would maintain guard on the door, holding their position if they had to. It didn’t take Jozef long to find his uncle as he was the only prisoner being held in the cellar. He was in a clean room with a door, locked from the outside with a basic bolt.
“Jozef?” Krystoff sat up on his cot and squinted toward the men in the doorway, his gaze on the silenced pistol in Jozef’s hand.
Jozef strode to his uncle and, turning on the light on his phone, searched him for injuries. There seemed to be nothing, except a bandage around his hand where his finger had been cut off. Krystoff moved without stiffness, indicating he probably hadn’t been beaten.
“You came.” The statement sounded almost like a question, as though he’d doubted Jozef.
Jozef grunted. This was one of those rare moments that he wished he could speak, could reassure his uncle. Krystoff had learned sign language when Jozef was young so they would be able to converse with ease, but there wasn’t enough light in the room for Jozef’s hands to be visible, and he didn’t want to put his weapon down.
Instead, Jozef took his uncle by the arm and tugged him, indicating he should stand. When he did, Krystoff surprised Jozef by hugging him close, his arms clasping around the younger man. Jozef wasn’t used to being touched by anyone, let alone his coolly professional uncle. Sometimes his Aunt Dasha would hug him, and even rarer, his two female cousins. He got the feeling that, though the family cared about him, they didn’t know how to act around their vztekl´y pes, the rabid dog of the Koba family.
Jozef stepped away from his uncle and indicated he should precede Jozef out the door. Jozef and Nikolay made their way swiftly back up the stairs and out of the cellar with Krystoff sandwiched between them, Jozef’s hand on his shoulder in case he needed to shove the older man to the ground and cover him. Krystoff didn’t balk at the precautions; he knew to trust Jozef’s team with his safety.
Their exit was as swift and silent as their entrance, with no more casualties. They bundled the head of the Koba family into the back of their van and drove away from the area at a leisurely pace, not wanting to bring more attention to themselves than they needed to. Not until they cleared the area controlled by Vasiliy did everyone in the van sigh in relief. Havel clapped Krystoff on the back, and the old man gave him a tired smile and nodded his gratitude across the back of the van to Jozef.
Thank you, my son, he signed, his hands barely visible in the dim lighting.
Chapter Eight
Shaun was cold, shivering in the dark on a bare mattress in a bare room. She was hungry and she had to urinate. She hadn’t gotten the sense from her captors that they intended for her to be miserable. It was more likely that they were too busy to think about her. Still, she was starting to worry that if they forgot for much longer, she would have to start shouting.
She’d been attempting to sleep, the sun having long since gone down and the only light now a dim streetlight down the road from where her room was facing. She’d tried the window, but it was bolted shut. She wondered if this room was actually meant for prisoners, given how solid the door and lock were, and her inability to open the window. She closed her eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness. She had no way to tell time, but she suspected she wasn’t sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time.
It was during one of these brief periods when she was snatching a few minutes of sleep that her door banged open. She opened her eyes and sat up on the mattress, pushing hair off her forehead. She’d taken her hair out of its tight bun and it was now a wild mass of tight curls in a halo around her head. Normally she’d work them into braids for easy maintenance while she was working, but even that basic hair care had fallen to the wayside during her long shifts in the Luhansk hospital. The mass was nearly shoulder length, although when she had it chemically relaxed it would go halfway down her back.
She blinked into the gloom and then squinted her displeasure as the overhead light was flicked on. After a moment of blindness, she was able to focus on the intruder.
Jozef.
Her heart picked up and fear began pumping through her veins as she recognized him. Despite his words that he didn’t plan on killing her anymore, she couldn’t help but see the gun and feel the press of the steel muzzle against her temple every time she looked at him.
He jerked his head toward the door, indicating she should come with him.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said quickly, scooting to the edge of the bed. When he frowned, she added, “Please, Jozef. I’ve been in here for hours with no relief.” She hoped adding his name would help humanize her in his eyes, make it harder for him to deprive her of basic needs.
He jerked his head in a nod and once more indicated she should follow him. She stood and approached the door cautiously. He backed up so she could pass and waved his hand out the door. She walked into the hallway, holding her breath as she brushed past him. He walked closely behind her. About halfway down the hall he grabbed her arm to stop her. Shaun jumped at his touch and glanced at him.
He dropped his hand and pointed at a door. Shaun approached slowly, peaking inside and then saw the outline of a tub, sink and toilet. She sighed her relief and rushed through the door, turning to close it behind her. He gripped the edge of the door, stopping her from closing it completely. She glanced over at him, but decided it wasn’t worth the fight. She didn’t know where she stood with him yet and wasn’t willing to push her luck.
She reached for the light, but he pushed her hand away and pointed at the toilet, then he turned his back, pulling the door partly shut. She stared at him, or more accurately, his back. It looked like she was going to pee in the dark with an audience. Not that it mattered, there was enough light coming in through the small window that she could at least make her way to the toilet and feel around. She’d certainly had urinated in worse conditions than this. There hadn’t been any flush toilets where she’d been stationed in Sri Lanka.
Once she finished, she washed her hands. He turned toward her, took her arm, and pulled her back out into the hallway. She walked with him down a set of stairs to the main floor. They followed another darkened hallway into a room filled with people.
Shaun balked, catching sight of the man who’d argued with Jozef about killing her in the basement. She’d learned his name was Havel and, judging from the way he spoke to Jozef, he was some kind of enforcer or second-in-command.
Havel glanced at her then swiftly turned away, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. Jozef walked into her back when she stopped suddenly. His hands landed on her hips, steadying her as she was jolted forward. She glanced back at him, but his gaze went past hers and landed on someone else.
Shaun followed his line of sight.
An older man, his hair and beard grey and unwashed, was sitting slumped in a chair next to a fireplace. The light from the fire cast shadows over his body. He was big, probably quite imposing when standing. He was holding a hand to his face, and his other hand, which was bandaged, rested in his lap. The bandage concerned Shaun. Did they want her to help yet another prisoner? Was she about to go through the same scenario as the basement? Patching up a man just so this motley crew could torture and kill him.
She didn’t think that was what was happening here. The man was in a deferential spot, near the fire with a blanket on his lap, sitting in a leather armchair. He seemed to be an import
ant man. Perhaps the uncle Jozef had mentioned in the forest.
When Shaun and Jozef entered the room, the man looked up at them with a kind of tired curiosity reflected in his gaze. He had sharp blue eyes, the same shade as Jozef’s. As they passed over Shaun, they narrowed in speculation.
She thought she understood. Not only did she stand out as a stranger and a foreigner in what she suspected was a tight-knit group, but she was black. Her skin colour set her apart from every person in the room, and most people in Ukraine. She wasn’t usually self-conscious, either about her skin colour or anything else, but when every eye in the room landed on her, she felt her cheeks burn in response.
She shifted slightly to lean back against Jozef. In this room filled with criminals, he was the only one she knew for sure wasn’t prepared to shoot her. Everyone else had varying expressions of skeptical, impatient and downright nasty. She really, really didn’t want to be the focus of attention anymore. Jozef, whose hand was still on her hip, gave her a gentle squeeze, which surprised her. So far in all of her dealings with him, he hadn’t shown a gentle bone in his body. Yet, he seemed to be trying to reassure her, which had the opposite effect. She now knew that she should be very afraid of the man sitting by the fire.
It was the older man who finally broke the silence. “You’re a doctor?” He spoke English, but his accent was thick, as though he didn’t do it often.
“Yes,” she said, a little hesitantly. Obviously, he meant her since there wasn’t anyone else in the room wearing scrubs.
“I think my nephew wishes for you to look me over before we leave for our next destination.” His gaze flickered past her shoulder to land on Jozef. “Complete nonsense, but the boy is stubborn. Won’t leave until I’ve been properly inspected.”
Jozef being likened to a boy felt completely incongruous. There was nothing young and cute about him. He was all man with a good dose of terrifying. The older gentleman was looking at Jozef through the lens of family. So he was the uncle that Jozef had told her about when he told her that they would have to be married.