Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Ivan’s plane departed a couple hours early, thank god, which meant he might have time to scrub the feeling of goddamn airplane off of him before he had to get everyone in order for the attack on the Murphy docks.

Call him stereotypical, but he had the classic bratva weakness for wanting to look classy while he was going into battle, literal or metaphorical. That meant a shower, a suit, and hair that wasn’t flopping into his face.

He pulled out his phone to check to see what messages he had.

There were a few text updates from Pavel, just the regular stuff. Updates on shipments, details on checking out the Murphy outfit…

And then a text from Kelly, just a couple of minutes ago.

Murphys have moved. It’s war.

His breath stuttered to a halt in his chest. The Murphy family had moved first. War was now.

And Kelly was in danger.

He called Pavel, who thank god, picked up on the first ring. “War’s on,” he barked, hurrying through the airport. This was why he just traveled with a carryon. “Get everyone mobile, full lockdown for the bases. You have the list of O’Gill locations?”

“Yes, sir,” Pavel said, in between relaying Ivan’s orders to everyone on his end of the phone.

“Send two men to each location, I want Sean O’Gill and Kelly O’Gill secured.”

“Got it.” Pavel was yelling in Russian at various men and women, splitting them up into pre-assigned teams to either strike offensively at the Murphys or go and defend Sokolov or O’Gill territory. “You get what you need from Moscow?”

“Yeah, you should have the information soon,” Ivan replied. “They’ve told their families here to give us an assist.”

“Where are you, sir? I’ll send a car.”

“Don’t bother.” Ivan was already outside, hailing a taxi. “I need to check on something.”

Kelly would be with her brother, with Shane, the place she’d been every day since he’d been shot because she’d never admit it but she was unwaveringly loyal, painfully loyal to her brother, both of her brothers, and fuck, the Murphys would definitely be sending an assassin or someone to finish off Shane and thanks to Bates that assassin would know exactly where to look.

“Sir!” Pavel’s voice was sharp and alarmed. “We’re in the middle of war, sir, you could be walking right into the crossfire!”

“Do I sound like I care?” Ivan spat out through gritted teeth. He had to get to Kelly, make sure she was okay. She’d have to protect Shane, that meant she wouldn’t be able to defend herself properly. The assassin could afford to be brutal but Kelly couldn’t, not if she had to act while simultaneously defending her brother. It would limit her movement. “Just act like I’m still in Moscow and get the job done. Eliminate the Murphys.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Pavel replied, sounding every inch the soldier. “I’ll keep you informed.”

The line went dead.

Ivan text Kelly but didn’t get a response. The cab ride seemed to take forever. Shit, shit, what if he was too late.

That was thing with a mob war. There was no formal declaration, really, no battle lines drawn. The party starting it would plan a multi-front attack, hitting several valuable people and places at once. They’d attack, burning buildings and gunning people down, and then retreat. The guerilla warfare would begin after that, both sides settling in for a long, hard war of striking from the shadows at one another, hitting up dispensaries, attacking cargo ships, and so on, but the family that struck first usually got a devastating blow in that was hard to recover from. Some families struck so well and so hard, that was all it took to start, end, and win the war.

Kelly and her father had to have known about this only minutes ago. god bless however they’d found out—usually by the time you learned you were in a war, you were already dying, your family was dying, and your businesses and safehouses were up in flames. Someone on the Murphy side must have struck too early, earlier than the others, or perhaps Yana and her corner girl spies had heard or seen something and raised the alarm.

Either way, he had to get to Kelly, and now. She was in danger—she had to know she was in danger.

The taxi pulled up a block from the dispensary with the hidden hospital room, as Ivan had instructed. He didn’t want the sound of a car to alert the assassin.

He threw a wad of money at the guy, not knowing and not caring if it was too much or too little for the fare, and drew his gun.

If that bastard, whoever he was, hurt Kelly—the very thought made his blood boil. Kelly was lively, powerful, full of conviction and spirit. The idea of her becoming the opposite of that, of her growing stiff and cold… it felt like some kind of violation, like it went against the laws of the universe.

He’d known he missed her while in Moscow, but he’d never been this worried over the fate of someone else before. He’d had no reason to worry about Father or Viktor—or at least he’d thought that he had no reason—and he didn’t care about anyone else enough to think of worrying. But now… now he was terrified, that he was going to be too late, that he was going to lose her just as he was starting to have her.

He’d decided against falling in love with her, had reacted with inner horror when he’d been talking to Poletski and realized what his feelings towards Kelly meant. Love was a weakness, and certainly not something he was ready for. It reminded him of Viktor, of the stupid crazy things that Viktor had done for the woman that he loved.

Ivan was starting to understand.

He was in it, too late to back out, but damn it if he loved Kelly that meant he was keeping her safe, keeping what he loved safe, and he’d kill any man who tried to take her from him. She’d said yes, she was his fiancée, damn it, that was as serious as it got.

He was going to save her, or so help him, he was going to tear apart the man who’d touched her.