Family First | *Rewrites in Progress*

Meet the Russians

Quinn's POV

As my watch ticked to signify it was seven o'clock on the dot, two figures emerged from the shadows, both walking with such poise, I knew they had been in this business longer than I. The woman - Clarissa - wore a plum coat, her honey coloured hair styled in a low bun. Her fiancé did not stray his eyes from us, though kept a tight grip on Clarissa as they approached us at our meeting point.

The docks. 

Rod stepped closer to me, as the light flickered above us, armed with a dozen different knives and guns. A few of my father's men lay scattered throughout the docks, ready to shoot if ordered, but I had a feeling it would not come to that.

"Quinn?" Clarissa called out, her voice firm and unwavering. "This is my fiancé, Ony Turgenev," she introduced, coming up to me with her hand outstretched. Her startling blue eyes were exactly like her nieces, and I could see just how little Astrid resembled her father. 

"It's pleasure to meet you, Walker," Only said, his voice surprisingly sounding English. 

"You don't sound Russian," I stated, and he chuckled, throwing his head back.

"I'd hope not after working undercover for so long. If my accent slipped, I'd be dead in a matter of seconds," he said, his Russian accent beginning to thicken. "The Boss found I was quite talented with accents, after I fooled a business partner of his, believing me to be Irish."

"Stop boasting, Ony," Clarissa muttered, reaching up to curl her hand around his bicep. "We've a girl to worry about."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before slinging his hands back into his pockets, his eyes changing from inviting to deadly. "She's being kept in the outhouse, a few metres away from Vince's main residence. It's heavily guarded, but I have a delivery coming in three days time, and I'll be loading it myself. The outhouse holds one other girl, only fourteen or so, who Vince does not want touched. She's been there for two years."

"You want her to come with us?" I asked calmly, and Ony nodded, his entire expression hardening. 

"If it weren't for my position undercover, I would've have saved that girl the second I had the chance. Vince treats her like a porcelain doll, as if she's his, but she's not," he said, Clarissa rubbing his arm soothingly. "No one but me and Vince have ever seen her."

"That sounds fair," Rod stated, his entire stance relaxing. "Does she have a name?" 

Ony shrugged. "Vince has only ever called her sweetheart, and it's weird. The Boss' wife does not even say that to their child, but Vince has a strange obsession with the girl. She's only locked up because she refuses to look him in the eye or answer his questions."

My heart clenched. 

Vince had a sick obsession with this girl, a girl who clearly meant more to him than was necessary. 

"Are the two girls together?" I asked, and Ony nodded, removing his hands from his pockets to give me a phone. It was nothing flashy, but the security feed currently playing showed me the faint outlines of two girls.

One of them being my girl.

"Your girl is most definitely Thomas' daughter," he said quietly. "Has not spilt a single secret despite constant beatings. She's now under my care, and I've been tasked with dealing with her now, but if I don't get her out in three days time, Vince will turn up and everything will go to shit. You will be ready to pick her up?"

I nodded, turning to Rod, who also gave a slow nod. "We'll wait by my father's main warehouse."

Ony's face relaxed, only slightly, but enough to give us a glimmer of hope. "That's along my route," he said, his face giving away no more of his emotion. He really was one of the Vladimir's men - their trait being their ability to hide so much emotion behind steel mental walls.

"Thank you for this," I said, reaching out to shake Ony's hand. His eyebrows raised, but he returned my handshake, before placing his arm around Clarissa's waist.

"I did not do it for you, Walker," Ony murmured. "Anastasia is a princess to our mafia, being Boss' goddaughter. He would have me strung up by my balls if I did not help save her."

With that, the Russian man walked away with his English fiancée by his side, who only turned for a split second to wave to us. Rod shivered beside me, beginning to walk back towards his car. "I forgot how much the Russians scare me," he groaned, opening the door for me. 

"I forgot that Anastasia was Vladimir's goddaughter," I replied, running my hand over my face. 

"Yes, but he is nothing compared to his wife!" Rod shrieked as he turned the engine on. With a quick rev, he shot off, taking us back towards his home. "I have had the pleasure of making her acquaintance once, and let me tell you, every time she spoke, Vladimir was almost on his knees, worshipping every one of her words. If she ordered the mafia to kill someone, he would lead the way."

"Yes, the Russians have always cherished their Queens," I muttered. "It seems the Italians do too."

----

I could not sleep.

For the next three days, I could only toss and turn, as the idea of my Anastasia coming back to us flooded my mind. Thomas had been the first one I had contacted, and Tina had been beside him the entire time, crying as I revealed we had a chance.

One chance to save her.

Thomas had been proud when I had revealed what Ony had told me about Anastasia. How she'd had been completely loyal to her family, to her beloved father, despite the fact she had never had anything to do with his mafia besides being born into it. 

She was as courageous and brave as they came.

And she was mine.