Dublin Airport, Ireland
June 2024
~~~~
Scrolling through my messages once again, I scoff at Anton's last text.
If U are with her, I'll f-en end U both.
Is he truly that delusional to think that this would intimidate me? Or make me come back to him?
Motherfucking moron.
Approaching the plane, the driver slows down the cab just as Chelsea folds the soft cloth she used to wipe the earth from the flowerpot off my gun. "Here, all done."
"Awe, thank you. You did so much." Patching me up, washing my clothes, now cleaning my Glock. I slide the weapon into my holster and accept the offered magazine. "I still can't believe you had us sneak out of your house. What will your mother think of me?"
"Trust me, after that pissass introduction, she is the last person you ever want to meet face to face."
"You should've at least let me apologize for hurling all over her front yard."
She smirks. "The "God save the King" comment blew your chances with her. You were lucky you made it out of the house alive."
"Ugh." Such a dumbshit moment.
The cabbie stops the car and turns around. "That would be two hundred and thirty euros."
Say what?
The drive was less than an hour. Taxi rides in this country are extortion. I count our 5 fifties and pass the money across the seat. "Here's an extra twenty if you carry the luggage on the plane."
He quirks a brow.
Buddy, seriously?
With a huff, I dig out another twenty euros. "Is that enough?"
He clicks his tongue as if offended but pockets the money and gets out of the cab. Popping the trunk, he heaves Chelsea's suitcase out and carries it up the steps. I don't envy him. That thing weighs a ton.
He returns not even a minute later; I wait until he is in his taxi and on his way. Behind Chelsea's back, I slide the ammo into my gun and rack it as I replace it into the holster. Following her up the stairs, I step onto the plane. Beth's cheerful good afternoon can't hide her distress. Her eyes are inflamed and her cheeks are puffy and red. She has been crying her heart out.
"What happened?"
She can't hold my gaze.
Her despair fuels the anger burning in my chest. "Did Mr. Worcheck upset you?"
She glances at Anton and drops her voice to a whisper. "He was in one of his moods, but honestly, it's not a big deal."
Oh, it's a very big deal. He can be mad at me all he wants, but I won't tolerate this utter cruelty toward the staff.
Approaching him, I pull the gun and lodge the barrel under his chin before he can open his stupid mouth. "You and I need to talk."
Getting to his feet, he raises his hands; I grab hold of his dress shirt to keep the weapon in place. Slowly, he backs up until we arrive inside the office space. I close the door. The compartment is soundproof, which will guarantee that this conversation stays private.
"Threatening to kill me and Chelsea? Did you seriously think that would work?"
He blinks at me but stays quiet. The black eye I gave him is in full bloom and cuts down on his attractiveness. This will make the next part so much easier.
I huff. "I think it's time to set some ground rules. You are hired muscle, working for me. Case closed. That means you don't complain, you don't question me, and you keep your damn opinions to yourself. If you can't accept that, you're off my crew."
"Look—"
"I wasn't finished. I expect anyone who works for me to treat other members of the team with respect. That includes the crew of this plane. Is that clear?" I press the barrel of the Glock harder against his jaw to prove my point.
"Crystal clear."
"Then apologize to Beth." I lower the gun and snort out a bitter laugh. "You wanted me to grow a set of balls? Consider them grown. Now get out."
He doesn't move. "Look, Bastian, about the swing."
Fuck, does he have a death wish? I'm about ready to blow out his brain. "I have nothing else to say to you."
"You are coping the wrong way. After all this time, you need face your inner demons—"
"I was raped, Anton. Several times a week. For eleven fucking years. And they used a sex swing to make me submit, so in which fucking universe did you ever think it'd be a good idea to put me through this again?" My voice trembles so hard that the words slur together. I was their helpless toy, bound and dangling in a restraint without any control over my own body. Fuck, they even made me believe I liked it because I got hard and ejaculated.
"You need to move on from the past—"
"I said get out!" Tears choke my words. I point to the door. "NOW before I fucking kill you."
He finally gives me my space and slams the door behind him.
I drop on the couch, burying my face into my hands. Silent sobs shake my body as tears spill out of me as if my eyes suffered from a permanent leak.
Fuck, I'm crying like a little girl.
Get a grip, Bastian.
Stifling pain rolls through me, leaving me raw and vulnerable.
A soft knock has me dry my face on my hoodie. The door opens a tiny crack. "I'm so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Artino, but Mr. Pappas is calling on a secure line and insists on talking to you before take-off."
I swallow three times to get my voice back under control. "Thanks, Beth. Could you please put the phone on the floor and close the door."
She obliges without a breath of hesitation. I stare at the cell on the ground, lying upside down.
Please, not a FaceTime call.
No such luck.
Icarus squints at me from the other side of the screen. "You okay?"
"Yep, fine."
"What happened to your face? Did you get hurt in the accident?"
So he knows about the trashed cars. The wheels of the Irish government work swiftly. "No, not the accident. I had to put Anton in his place and he didn't like it."
Icarus's brows arch. "You want him replaced?"
"Not sure yet."
His eyes turn thoughtful. "To be honest, when you two were in Nicosia, I was glad that Anton was still a mindless soldier who followed my orders without hesitation, but if Rostya had pulled a gun on me, he would've been lying dead on the ground next to Lydia. Not trying to tell you how to run your crew, but if you put your life in the hands of your lieutenant, trust is of the utmost importance."
"I agree, theíos, but right now, the only one I'd trust is Nico, and as long as I'm working with Chelsea Doherty, he isn't a feasible option. Once I tidy up loose ends with Marcel Pierce, I'll consider making the switch."
"Okay, I will already keep an eye out for a new home for Anton. He earned his stripes, so something nice and easy without stress might be good for him."
I chuckle. A bodyguard to an older member of the organization who plays golf all day. Anton will hate it. "That might be in the best interest for everyone."
"About the accident. What happened?"
"I got plastered and took down a row of cars."
His lips twitch. "About time you blew off some steam."
I roll my eyes. "It was poor judgment on my part." And could've cost me days of delay.
"You are too uptight for your own good. Men need to drink and whore. It's in our nature."
And knock women around in case they criticize us.
Not for me.
"Can you have someone in the office take care of the paperwork with the car rental company?"
"Don't worry, the ambassador in Dublin already offered to make it go away."
The plane vibrates under my feet as the pilot starts the engines. "I need to go, theíos. We are about to take-off."
"You have been very focused lately, and I'm happy we could put this unfortunate incident with Lydia behind us."
"Yes, me, too. Talk soon."
I end the call and grin. The act of playing the obedient nephew who has given up on his son is working like a charm. Now, I just have to clean up the Marcel Pierce mess before I can fully focus on my next task.
A silent strike.
My final kill.
And Icarus will never know what hit him.
WP Total word count: 19,591
So Bastian blew up and put Anton in his place. This also means that the road for Bastian and Chelsea to connect on a deeper level seems to be clear of hurdles, though you never know when it comes to Anton. Next up: Meet Jackson Pierce and find out if Chelsea's mission will be a success. In the meantime, I'd love to hear from you and please vote if you found the chapter deserving. Thanks for reading.