Love is War (The Clans Book 5) Read online

  How fucked up and stupid does somebody have o be to commit that kind of crime?

  When I got the news, I knew I had to run, had to leave for a while. For a year, I wandered Europe with no home, hoping things would calm down enough for me to go back. And they did, but we never got to have allies like that again. They hated us, and the Clan had all but been forgotten in the Ukraine as well, as a result. It just made Valentin more powerful in the area, and there was no way I or anyone else was up for challenging him. It was suicide.

  Chapter Three

  VERA

  “You’re going to like the news I have brought you.” I want to scoff at the idiot and his choice words, but I don’t. Hawkeye is nothing but a puny man, one who thinks he’s more important than he actually is. He thinks he’s that stupid superhero or something. A name like Hawkeye? Psh. He’s not even as handsome as Jeremy Renner.

  “Jesus. Spit it out. I pay you for information, not for you to flap your jaws and waste my time.” Hawkeye is a young American man, but he is just like the rest. Thinks his shit doesn’t stink and that he’s untouchable. Cocky as hell. Have I mentioned how I don’t like Americans?

  “Rhys bought the mansion on the outskirts of town. He’s been doing quite a few renovations since he’s been there, and my birds tell me that his house will run out of food soon, which means he’ll have to run to the market.” Hawk’s birds - they’re his eyes. People who report back to him and give him information. Why they do this, I am unsure. I know that he can’t be paying them money. He is not well off, that’s for sure. And I don't know whether I want to know what is used as payment.

  “It doesn’t mean he will go. He has a staff as any man of his stature would. Why would he not send them?”

  Hawkeye smiles, signifying that he knows quite a bit. “How would it look to the people if he sent his employees? That is not why he’s here. He’s here to take back the Ukraine for his Romanian King and Queen. How would he do such a thing if the people do not respect him? Why would they respect a man who pays others to do something as simple as get groceries?”

  I huff quickly, realizing that he is being smart by making choices such as this. “I will just have to make a visit to Rhys. Now, won’t I?”

  I don’t wait for a response from him, heading out of my small apartment, I dart down the stairs and walk towards Rhys’ new home. I refuse to take a car everywhere, even if it is chilly out. The people need to see my face. They need to know that I am never going to be a leader who abandons them. They will see me walk the streets just as they do every day. I am no higher than them, and I am no lower than them. We are of the same, and that is how I have their respect and adornment. The walk will take me a good ten minutes, but I don’t mind. It gives me the time to think of what I will say to him, of how I will push this outsider back to his homeland. There is no place for Rhys Albu, or his Romanian King and Queen, in my country. No room for them to stir up trouble and ruin everything that I have built, taking down the great strides we have worked years for. No, there will be none of that. Over my dead body.

  My legs move faster than I intend, my body knowing that I am a woman on a mission. I have cleansed most of the filth from this country and will continue to do so until no man, woman, or child has to worry about their loved one not coming home. Sadly, it’s not violence that kills us. It’s something much worse. We Ukrainians are at war, but not one with guns and knives. Instead, they are replaced by needles, powder, and now pills. My nemesis is addiction in its finest form. Many have told me that this is a battle I will not win, but look at all I have accomplished. If I ever see those people who doubted me ever again, I will laugh and spit in their face for their pessimism.

  I approach the gate that leads to the mansion and tug on the iron door. It doesn’t budge, and I see that Rhys has put a lock on it. Screw the fucking lock. I look around quickly and know exactly what it is I will do. I position my right foot on the stone and hook my left hand on the iron, holding onto it so it helps boost me up when needed. Taking in a heavy breath, I focus all of my strength on pulling some next level mutant ninja shit. Somehow, I manage to get myself at the top of the stone before my ass gets to the other side. Not by the way I planned, though. Nope, my ass landed there. Oh well. I never claimed to be a graceful bitch. Placing my hands underneath me, I rise from the ground and walk straight towards this bastard’s front door.

  Pounding my hand against the wood, I wait for someone to answer it. Surprisingly enough...I don’t see one security guard around. Isn’t that interesting…

  I stare at the peeling paint and am startled when the door is yanked open. “Who are you!?” a burly man asks me.

  Ah. Here’s the security guard. I just didn’t assume Rhys’ security would be an imbecile.

  “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” I walk straight into the house like I own it, heading into the room on the right and plant my ass on the couch.

  “Y-you can’t be in here!”

  “I can be anywhere I damn well want to be. In case you haven’t heard, I own this country. Now, go fetch your boss little errand boy. He and I have a few things to discuss.” I wave my hand at the man, dismissing him like nothing but a small bug and he flies away.

  “I have to admit. I figured we’d come face to face sooner or later. I just didn’t know you’d show up in my home.” There’s no denying it - I’m speaking to Rhys Albu. I haven’t even seen his damned face yet, and by the tone of his voice, I can tell this man thinks that he’s the cream of the crop.

  I whip my face in his direction, “You should know that this isn’t your home. No part of the Ukraine will ever be your home. This is my land, Romanian. Do not ever forget that. My word is law, and for the ones who choose to disobey me...well...they get what they deserve. I know you want things from us, but I don’t give a fuck. Get out of my country before I slit your throat with my finger nail.” I hold up my hand, showing this bastard my daggered nails. He might think I’m kidding, but I’m not fucking with him.

  His eyes narrow, and he looks at me as if he either wants to fuck me or strangle me until I can’t breathe. I’m not sure with this one. “Understand this, street rat. I will get what I want even if it’s the last thing I do. You might think you’re the one with the power here, but you aren’t and you won’t ever be. You’re just a little girl who was abandoned by her father. Fuck, he couldn’t even put up with you. How would the people here? All you are is a temporary problem, and I’m the solution.”

  I shoot up from my seat, crank my hand back and slam it against his face quicker than he realizes what’s happening. Digging my nails into his cheek, I stare at him straight in the eyes, not wavering for a moment. “You’re adorable, thinking you know about my life. The next time you try to use my father against me, get your facts straight. If you want to tear me down, Romanian, you will have to do much better than that pathetic attempt. I’m not as weak as you think I am, but I know I can’t say the same for you.” I move my eyes along the features of his face, taking in his high cheekbones, green eyes and flawless skin. “You, on the other hand, are nothing but a porcelain doll. I like to break dolls. Get out of my home before I break you, Albu.”

  I remove my hand from his face and head out the way I came, not wanting to stay in that room a moment longer with him. I came here to get a point across and I’ve done that.

  I just wish the bastard didn’t bring up my father. Now I’ll be thinking of him for the rest of the night, and every small moment that lead up to the start of my life.

  The start of my reign.

  Chapter Four

  RHYS

  Damn that little blonde bitch for getting in my head! I couldn’t believe she had the balls to come right up to my mansion and threaten my security guard, and completely alone at that, just to tell me to get the hell out of the Ukraine. If she hadn’t seemed so serious, I would probably still be laughing about it, But there was something about her that told me not to discount her.

  Even with the Clans, the
way it worked was there was a king, a head, given all that respect, but when you thought about it, Ion even wasn’t working alone., he didn’t earn anything himself. His marriage to Mariana gave him a status, one that was respected because it had been earned decades ago by the first guy to be in his shoes. And then there was the fact that he had all these men serving him and doing the dirty work. Not that Ion and Mariana didn’t get in the middle of it every once in a while, but they had a network of people that were truly doing the work for them. They were the figureheads.

  But this Ukrainian gagică, seems to be entirely different. She ran right into danger alone. She ran this alone and probably built this kingdom mostly alone, from what I know of her. Her reputation is everywhere, and now that I am roaming the streets and listening and asking, I can see that even more. Her name makes everyone cower in fear or suddenly break into praises. She is a queen in every sense, a queen of the underworld. So, being a bitch seems to have its advantages here.

  So, I am going to have to use her to my advantage, just like Mariana had said. We...I need allies, and she is the best ally to have considering the way everyone reacts to her. But with the way she feels about me, I am not sure how to go about that without doing something entirely insane, something that my superiors may not even approve of. but I know I need to observe her in her natural environment if I am to make a final decision on how to get under that thick as metal skin of hers.

  That is why I am risking life and limb...and a little ego bruising...to come out here in the middle of the fucking night, right in the center of downtown, to talk with anyone that looks like they might have the skinny on where and how Vera operates.

  So far, I have mostly been shot down. They know I am Romanian, there is really no hiding that. Some of them even know who I am specifically, and I have been spit on and threatened in one evening more times than I can count. I need to go with someone who has less to lose by telling me something.

  Finally, I see a woman on the corner of the street across from me, her back is to me, but I can tell she is severely underdressed for the cold, even if she is used to it. She hangs out close to the alley, probably so she can dive into it if there is any trouble. She is working, and I might be the easiest two hundred bucks she makes tonight, assuming she tells me something of use.

  I go past her to cross, so she sees me coming. I know better than to startle a woman like this, especially in this part of the world. She will be prepared, She has to be in order to survive the scum of the earth that makes her profession profitable. I can tell even in the dark that she is in her 20s, beautiful likely still under her makeup that is on thick, probably an order form whoever is responsible for her.

  I nod to her, and she leans against the aging bricks, a real seductive stance, and pouts her lips at me. Nothing about her interests me. Other than a means to an end. But I do wonder about the things that drive a woman to need to do this to herself and hate seeing such young ones stuck in this life. But I am numb to it as well. this crime life makes you numb.

  I am sure to stay at least a foot away from her, my hands visible. I don’t want to scare her or give her the wrong idea. "Zdrastuyte," I greet in one of the Ukrainian words I know...hello. "I don’t want your services tonight, but if you can give me the information I am seeking, I will pay you anyway." I flash her the bills so she can see I am good for it, and she perks up real fast.

  "What do you want to know?" she asks in a thick accent that I can hardly understand.

  "I need to find Vera. Where is she? Where does she operate? I am past due for a meeting."

  She purses her lips at me, and for a moment, I am afraid she won’t give me what I want. I know there is a chance even this woman works for her in some way and certainly know that Vera can reach her if she doesn't like her giving me this information.

  She curses under her breath, and I am about to walk away when she tells me, "Chornyy, it's the name of a club. Don't go in the front. Go to the cellar. Ask for rozheva horilka...pink vodka. Now, give me my cash and forget you asked me a fuckin' thing," she seethes." I hold it out with a smirk, and she rips it away, strutting away to find another corner for her safety, most likely. And here I go to find this club, unsure of exactly what I am going to find when I get there.

  ***

  As I travel down into a cramped cellar, I certainly hope looks are deceiving. I don’t know how many criminals and drugged out junkies I saw on my way over here, but this place is a hole in the wall from the front; it's hard to imagine it being any better down below. But this is my only lead, so I have to follow through.

  It is dark, and I almost run into a stack of boxes full of alcohol of all kinds before I see him, standing adjacent to me in this tiny space. He is in a dark corner, and I can just barely make out a little light through a crack in the wall; possibly a door?

  I go up to him and give him the password, hoping I haven’t been fooled and that the darkness hides enough about me that he has no idea who I am. Because this is a truly delicate situation. So fucking delicate. And I want down there to see what the hell is going on more than ever now. For something to be so secretive it has to be big.

  The door is opened, and there are lamps lighting the way down some stone steps. It reminds me a little of the old speakeasies in America but a little more macabre perhaps. What the hell am I going to find down here?

  And then suddenly, my ears are assailed by the roar of a crowd, and the stairs end at another door that just pushed open. Here I am in a room, unfinished like a warehouse, and it is huge. No one could possibly guess something like this would fit underneath the piece of shit club upstairs. But what gets me the most is that it is filled with bodies like we are at a concert, though the cage in the center and none other than Vera herself front and center, yelling in Ukrainian at the crowd, tells me this is no concert.

  I have never been to one of these before, likely because almost everywhere they are highly illegal, but I know instantly what this is; a cage fighting ring. I am not sure how the fuck this saucy bitch gets away with such a thing, especially with all these witnesses, but I think I am about to find out.

  I place myself as close to the front of the crowd as I can shove my way through, blending in with the crowd in hopes that Vera won’t notice I am here and cause a scene. I try my best to follow what is happening, and as the crowd gets fired up, I notice out of the corner of my eye eight men, two of which are in shackles and look both pissed and sick at the same time. As they come forward, I turn back into what Vera is saying as she lets herself out of the cage while the men are placed inside quickly, their chains removed and the cage locked. Just before the fight begins, I recognize a few words..."borotysya do smerti," she says.

  And now I know exactly how Vera gets away with this. I know exactly how she is running this damn country, and I am both frightened and in awe of the idea. Her enemies are fighting to the death. I don’t know what happens to the winner, though.

  I nudge a man next to me, taking an interested and casual stance. "What happens to the man who wins?" He looks me up and down with a scow for a moment, and I shrug, maintaining innocence. "My first time."

  He then nods and slaps me on the back, pointing with elation to the two men in the cage, ripping each other apart.

  Literally.

  I see them digging nails into flesh until they bleed, shreds of cloth torn off of their clothes and strewn everywhere. This is some gladiator shit. "He is...how you say...her bitch."

  I smile and laugh along with him as I process that. What better way to have a man loyal to your cause than to have him look death in the face and know it was at your hands?

  Shit. This is insane.

  But I like it.

  My eyes instinctually find Vera. She sits up on a platform at the back of the room; a perfect place to view the fight from a safe distance. I see a smug smile on her face as she has it in her hands, her legs crossed one over the other. Her lips are red, and she is dressed in a match skirt and a top that doesn’t even c
ome down to her navel, though she covers up with what might be a real fur coat.

  Fuck. I shouldn’t find her sexy at all, but there is something about how dangerous she is that has me thinking about things that are awfully hard to think about with the bloody show that's happening right in front of me.

  I need this woman on my side.

  Chapter Five

  VERA

  My hands trail the buildings as I walk the empty streets in no hurry to get home, a smile still on my face from the events of the evening. I have been running this damn show, this cage fighting, for a year now, and it never gets old. It’s because there are always surprises.

  I had been so sure I knew which of them would win, but at the final leg, one of them just surged ahead with a will to live while the other clearly wanted to rot in hell rather than work for me. It happens that way sometimes. It isn’t like I go easy on my enemies, even when they begin to serve me. But now I have this old guy, one who was probably close to a nice retirement under Glib's supervision before I caught him and ripped him right off the streets. That’s what I do because they are my streets.

  I should be more careful out here alone...no bodyguard of any kind, and it’s early in the morning, the prime time for the slime balls to come out of the woodworks. But who would be dumb or desperate enough to fuck with me, especially after a good fight like that? And if they do decide to fuck with me, then I will fuck them up.

  A lot of men think I have too much confidence and too much power, but that’s another reason I work alone and live alone...well...almost alone. I live with my best friend, though she is in and out these days for reasons I’d rather not think about when I am on a high for a good night. It could be harmless; her having a little fun or her seeing a man. And I sure hope it’s that. That she is still clean.