Chapter 3
Ion
I sprang into action the moment they told me that Jonas Masterson had Mariana at a residence in Upstate New York. At least, that was what they believed to be true. All this time, she had only been a few hours away. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a bit of a taunt, though. I knew exactly who this man was. I’ve seen this man multiple times; it infuriates me that he has had my Ana all this time. She’s been right under my fucking nose. He’s an unpredictable bottom feeder, and he was not at all unknown to most of the mob clans. Jonas Masterson had been after all the scraps the mob had to offer since I was just a child. I remembered how my father used to complain about him, as there was always some scheme gone wrong that he had to help clean up. Jonas was good at making a mess and leaving it to look like one of the clans was involved. That was only one of the reasons everyone in the mob hated the man. How he still found associates to serve him, I could not even fathom. It also made me wonder how he’s stayed alive for so long with so many enemies. Nevertheless, he won’t be alive for much longer.
My phone rang, signaling that my men were ready. I had called some of my best for the task. We were going to roll up to that shithole Jonas had my princess in and blow it up. I was more than just muscle, and I suspected Jonas must have greatly underestimated my abilities when he decided he could just take whatever he wanted; including what was mine. Looking back now, I had just barely taken over my clan when it happened, but I learned quickly. I was known as the most ruthless, feared, brutal, and smart clan leader in the United States. Hell, I was much more frightening than those damn Germans or the English, and Jonas was about to fucking find out.
I busted out of my loft, ready to see some heads roll. It would be a long drive there, though, plenty of time to sit on that anger of mine and make it sizzle. I hopped into the back of the armored car with my best men, packed in like sausages with each other and our guns to keep us company as the wheels rolled north, towards my destiny.
As we went along, I began to think back to the day I got my purpose. At two years old, I was told a little girl was born. She was born on October 22nd, just weeks before my third birthday. My father explained to me that she was going to be my wife one day. He told me that her name was Mariana. I didn’t understand much about it, but both my life and Mariana’s life had changed drastically and been set in stone that very day. I had only met her a few times after that, but I could remember her so strongly because of her spirit.
The fact that it was Jonas, that vile creature I had already loathed, had Mariana all these years, made me wonder what he could have done to her, whether that spirit of hers had resisted at all after eight long years. I shook my head in disgust and disbelief at the memory of something he did when I was just a teenager; one of those big messes that he made us clean up.
Jonas had been in Russia, trying to forge more ties with the mob in some way, messing around with the Albu clan. Rhys Albu had only entertained him because he thought he could use a guy like Jonas to his advantage. It had all gone wrong when they had crossed paths with some of the prime minister’s family. The prime minister’s daughter had a taste for bad boys and latched onto Jonas and his big words Words he could never back up with anything of substance. Even with all his swindling the man had shit to his name. He had decided it would be a fun game and make himself look like a bad ass to Albu, who runs the Romanian mob clan in Russia if he killed somebody in the government. With the prime minister’s daughter, naked and in his bed, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.
Her death turned the spotlight immediately onto the Albu clan. By that point, Jonas was long gone, onto the next terrible idea. So, the Albu’s had to sacrifice one of their own to make sure no more attention came their way. The mob did not like the spotlight, in fact, we avoided it at all costs, and the Albu’s were still the black sheep to this day. When my father told me all these things Jonas was doing, I used to wonder if Jonas was clinically insane. At the least, he was a liability. Yet again, I come to ask myself how this loose end has been allowed to live all these years? He should’ve been eradicated years ago. The clans would probably bow down to me just for getting him out of their hair.
My thoughts returned to Mariana, and I cursed the car ride for allowing my brain to wander like that. I knew there was a distinct possibility that I would walk in and find an empty void in place of the woman that was supposed to be the heir to the Vasile throne and by my side. I had heard what torture and abuse could do to a person, and a part of me that I kept locked away most of the time, felt bad for her. It wasn’t something I would wish on someone, anyway. But in truth, it did not matter at all what state she was in, as long as she was alive and still capable of producing heirs. That makes me sound cold, and I am. My ruthlessness is no joke; I don’t joke. I make promises. I hope that she is alright, that Jonas hasn’t destroyed every single thread of the girl I knew all those years ago, but until we get to his shitty compound, I won’t know.
My father taught me to be ambitious and ruthless, and there was no room for sympathy there. If I was to finally take my rightful place as the king of the mob and bring the clans back together, I had to focus on what needed to be done. I would save Mariana and end Jonas and his men for good. Then, she would be all mine to marry and produce heirs with; heirs that would solidify that it was my lineage that continued to rule all the clans. That was the purpose of the arrangement. I could use her blood and her body regardless of what was left of her spirit.
I could not care.
I did not care.