Cold Brew and Bullets (Part 1 of the Syndicate Series)

Chapter 15- Medication

Eliana:

I glanced up as Alessio's face froze impassively. Leonardo's read as shock for a moment, but Angelo, standing back in his corner of the room, let a smile briefly pull at his lips. The silence hung incredibly heavy as no one could decide who would speak first, but Leonardo finally gave in, "What do you mean?"

"At first I thought that they'd gotten the wrong person, or that there was some convoluted scheme from the break in at the coffee shop that led to it..... But they were asking why my boss was in Greece and then they mentioned Russia. It didn't take much more than an intuitive jump."

"Do you know anything else about them? Did they say more?" Leonardo was speaking slowly and carefully, Alessio and Angelo behind him staring silently.

Something flickered in my mind, "Scarlette knew more about them that I did. She said they were they were Russian... part of the mob? Mafia? Gang? Whatever you want to call it."

"Who's Scarlette?" Alessio's question jarred me slightly, I had expected that he would stay silent a little longer.

"She was down in the basement with me after a few days. At least I think it was a few, I couldn't really keep track of time. Sometimes she'd talk to me or try to keep me awake, but I can't really remember many of the details."

"Did she say why she was there?"

I closed my eyes and laid my forehead on the counter while I tried to rack my brain for details that were rather fuzzy. The pain was a dull throb but I was lucky that it wasn't much more than that. I sighed and mumbled, "She was someone's fiance, but I think..... Maybe more like a slave? She said that someone bought her, but I can't remember the name. If I heard it, I would probably recognize it."

I heard a new voice, realizing that it was the first time I heard Angelo speak, but it was quiet, like he was speaking only to be heard by Alessio who stood next to him. "So we were right, Niklov is definitely participating in some form of human trafficking."

The cool marble against my face was extremely relaxing, but his comment made me snap my gaze back at the two of them. "That was his name. Scarlette's fiance."

"How old was she?" Leonardo asked.

"A couple of years older than me, maybe? Twenty-five, maybe twenty-six at most?"

Angelo grimaced, "That's on par with his previous relationships."

"Wait, how old is he?"

"Late 60s, but he still won't relinquish any control."

"You're rivals, I'm assuming? Competing... groups?" I asked all of them with the most nondescript expression that I could manage. I couldn't bring myself to use one of the other words, mafia or mob or anything of the like. I wasn't sure of their differences and using them at all, even though I was sure of what these men did, felt odd and outlandish.

The three men stared at me, Angelo impassively, Alessio cautiously, and Leonardo with surprise. I merely raised my eyebrows in response, "Like I said, I'm not oblivious. It's what you do, isn't it?"

Leonardo whipped back to face Alessio, as did Angelo, but the man whose reaction I really cared about was staring at me with a clenched jaw. It wasn't anger, it was something else mixed together into something that simmered right below the surface. He gave me an imperceptible nod, so small that I almost missed it.

I brushed it off, both knowing that there were more iminent problems and that it wouldn't be long before medication would make me feel sluggish again. I was more curious about who the Russians were, "Have they done much human trafficking in the past? Has he bought all of his wives?"