“Maybe someday I can show it to him.”
“Maybe someday,” I whisper, though that day will never come if I can help it. I turn off his light and stand in the doorway, watching him settle into sleep. The photograph from Radmir’s gallery flashes through my mind again of the little boy with Leo’ssmile standing between parents who looked at him like he was their whole world.
That’s not our story. Our story is a mother and son who found a way to build something beautiful from the wreckage of broken promises and abandoned dreams. It has to be enough.
No, itisenough.
4
Radmir
The morning briefing takes place in the conference room overlooking the harbor, where Andrei has spread surveillance photos across the mahogany table like pieces of a puzzle I’d rather not have to solve. Coffee steams in porcelain cups, but neither of us touches them. The images command all our attention.
“This was taken Tuesday morning at the Clearwater property.” Andrei slides a photograph toward me. “That’s the same vehicle we spotted near the port last month.”
I study the grainy image of a black sedan parked across from one of our older warehouses. The license plate is obscured, but the positioning is deliberate. Whoever was driving wanted to be seen without being identified.
“How long were they there?”
“Forty-seven minutes. Long enough to catalog everyone coming and going, but not long enough to draw attention from localpatrols.” Andrei produces another photo. “This is from the Marina district, same day. Different car, same pattern.”
The second image shows a gray SUV positioned with clear sightlines to the shell company we use for equipment purchases. Again, the timing suggests surveillance rather than random presence.
“Luca’s being methodical about this.” I set down the photos and lean back in my chair. “He’s mapping our operations and maybe testing our response times.”
“Or he’s looking for weaknesses.” Andrei’s voice carries the weight of shared history. “The way he used to do when we worked together.”
Before Montenegro. Before everything changed between us, and loyalty became a luxury we could no longer afford to give Luca. “Tell me about the personnel.”
Andrei flips through his notes. “There have been three confirmed sightings of Viktor Kozlov in the last two weeks. He was spotted near the port authority building and twice at that coffee shop on India Street.”
Viktor has been his enforcer since the split. He’s a man who takes pride in making problems disappear permanently, and his presence in San Diego means this isn’t just reconnaissance. Luca is preparing for something more direct.
“What about the others?”
“Dmitri Petrov was seen at a strip club in Pacific Beach. That could be personal, but the timing makes it feel otherwise.” He slides another photo across the table. “This is Anton Volkov outside a gun shop in Santee.”
I examine the image of Anton, recognizing the careful way he carries himself even in civilian clothes. He’s likely shopping for untraceable weapons, which means Luca expects this situation to escalate beyond negotiations.
“Same crew as Montenegro.” I stack the photos and hand them back to Andrei. “He’s bringing the band back together.”
“Looks that way. The question is whether he’s planning to finish what he started there, or if this is something new.”
Montenegro was supposed to be simple. It was to be a meeting with Albanian suppliers, a handshake deal to expand our territory into Eastern Europe, and a partnership that would have made all of us rich beyond our wildest dreams. Instead, two of my best men died in an ambush that someone had leaked to our competitors.
I never proved Luca was the source of that leak, but I didn’t need proof. I knew him well enough to recognize ambition when I saw it, and he had always wanted to be the one making decisions instead of following them.
“Double the security rotations at all properties.” I stand and move to the window, watching morning traffic flow along Harbor Drive. “I want armed response teams within five minutes of every location, and I want to know about any vehicle that parks within three blocks of our operations for longer than twenty minutes.”
“Already in motion. What about the estate?”
The question I’ve been avoiding. Increasing security here means acknowledging Luca might target my personal space, the sanctuary I’ve built to separate my private life from the violence that funds it. It also means accepting that everyone who worksor lives here becomes a potential casualty in a war that started long before they entered my world.
Including Danielle.
“Discreet upgrades only. I don’t want to alarm the household staff, but I want early warning systems on every approach.” I turn back to Andrei. “I want background checks run on everyone who’s had access to the property in the last month.”
“Everyone?”
