Dangerous Illusion [18+]

18: Kill

The collage is made by heyambrose

. . .

I had just gotten off the phone with Manuel who kept me updated about Luna's whereabouts. I had entrusted him with her safety, ensuring that no one could approach her without his - and by extension, my - vigilant supervision. If I couldn't be there for her in person, I needed someone I could trust to be. Under different circumstances, Manuel would have been accompanying me on this flight to Russia. Instead, my cousins were with me, helping to handle the business affairs I had long neglected.

Sokolov was in for a surprise - me, on his doorstep.

We were lodged in a hotel I owned in Moscow. My private jet had touched down just an hour ago, but the sleepless nights had already taken their toll, leaving me exhausted. A sudden slap on my shoulder from Leo jolted me back to alertness. I shot a glare towards Leo.

"You look like she sucked you dry before you hopped on a plane." Marc laughed. He couldn't have been more wrong if he tried. The thought of Luna's lips around my cock was a distant memory from my past but they awoke everything mortal in me.

"Nah, I think loverboy here is suffering from blue balls." They howled louder but Ineither confirmed nor denied. Luna's menstruation had put a significant gap in our sex life and our last encounter had been less than pleasant. But more than the lack of intimacy, the lies between us bothered me more than I liked to admit. I also had a newfound admiration for her because she was sticking by me even after I kept a huge part of myself from her. I hated how I couldn't function when everything wasn't right between us.

"What time does he arrive?" I asked, my voice serious and commanding.

"He should be here in about fifteen minutes," Marc replied, glancing at his wristwatch.

I adjusted my suit and poured myself a stiff drink. Ten minutes later, a man dressed in a dark shirt and camouflage jacket walked in. He was a large man, his face set in a stern expression. His greying hair was cut short in a military style. This was Antony Mikhailov, a former Russian military officer turned private investigator. I had hired him to investigate Sokolov. He was the one who had informed me of Ivor and Dominik's betrayal. I appreciated his efficient approach and discretion. Although our dealings were not exactly legal, Mikhailov had no more love for his country than I did.

"Mr. Rafaelli, it's nice to finally meet you," he said in a thick Russian accent. We shook hands, and I noticed that he was almost as tall as me. His hands were rough and his handshake firm. Few men could match that. Even fewer could hold my gaze. My father often commented that men were intimidated by me. It was a gift, he said. While Darius Rafaelli was approachable and friendly on the surface, I had long since stopped bothering with being accessible. Fear kept my enemies at bay, something my father had failed to achieve during his reign.

"What do you have for me, Mikhailov?" I asked, gesturing towards the seat in front of me. Marc and Leo sat on either side of me, all three of us waiting in anticipation for Mikhailov's news.

He pulled out a tablet from his satchel and slid it towards me. "You were right to ask me to look deeper into Sokolov and his men. We discovered that he has been secretly manufacturing drugs in a few of the facilities you jointly own." My hands clenched at my sides. The betrayal was not only a breach of my trust but also a trigger point for me. Sokolov was going to pay for this. "There's more. Sokolov has been colluding with other local gangs for the past few months. My best guess is he's planning to overthrow you from your bases in Russia and take over your manufacturing plants." The weapons manufacturing plants I had in Russia were previously run by Christopher Napi. I had invested heavily in them until I learned of his dealings with a terrorist organization. I had withdrawn my money, which had nearly bankrupted the Napi fortune. Then, when he was at his lowest, I bought his facilities at a significantly reduced price and ran things my way.