Russian Bastard | A Mafia Novel ✧

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Zeke

The phone rang for what felt like forever, the incessant dial tone ringing in his ears. This was the third time he'd tried calling home with the hope of some news.

Pick up, he desperately thought, praying to any higher being out there that the person on the other end of the line would answer and put him out of his misery.

After a few more rings, he nearly gave up hope that they'd answer the call—he knew the phone was nearing the end of trying to reach the receiver—until it didn't.

He answered.

"Moy syn." His father said in greeting. It felt good to hear his voice, especially after the ordeal they'd all been through. It was a rock in the chaos of a tempest; strong, familiar, and unyielding. "Are you safe?"

"We're safe." He replied. "You? And the others, are you all right?"

Pavel Vasiliev drew a shuddering breath. He couldn't remember the last time he ever heard his father so shaken up over anything. "Francesco is fine and other families have been accounted for. It's your sister and Ivanov I'm worried about."

"How were they taken? Do we know how long ago?"

"It was during the chaos of the battle. I lost sight of them when the second wave hit— the enemy must've seized the opportunity in case things went south for them, which they did."

Silence, then— "I'm worried, Zekeil." His father said in a grave voice. Zeke could hear the many years of pain and worry in his father's tone all in one sentence. "I'm worried about my son and only daughter."

"They know how to handle themselves." He said, but it almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that. "They'll be fine."

"I know Ivanov can handle himself." Father said tiredly. "It's Nina I'm scared for." The unspoken worry lingered in the air, neither of them daring to put thought to word for fear of it coming to reality.

"We'll find them." Zeke said with certainty. "Have you begun the search?"

Silence met him when he had voiced his question. When his father still did not respond, he spoke. "You haven't started searching for them?" Zeke asked, shocked.

Pavel released a sharp breath. "There's too much going on here in New York. The famiglias are in disarray, desperately needing direction and moral. We need to focus on--"

"Focus on what?" He interjected sharply. "Ivan and Nina are your children."

"They are." Father said savagely. "There's no one on Earth who wants to find them—and the bastards who took them—more than me. I took care of them, I raised them, and I love them. But it is out of my hands."

Zeke began to argue, "How is it out of your hands? You're—"

A rustling on the other end of the call sounded, interrupting him, before someone spoke. "Zeke." He was greeted by the voice of a man he had only heard once before.

Zeke straightened in his seat. "Godfather."

"I must say, you and your famiglia handled the situation admirably." Lorenzo Castellano praised. "It's good to know you and the princess are safe. Wherever the two of you are now, I suggest you stay put in the foreseeable future. It's not looking good here on our end."

"Understood." He acknowledged stiffly.

"Thank you." Godfather said, though a little unnecessarily, before hanging up.

That was what was so great about him— he went the extra mile to be kind to his subordinates.

Zeke sighed, leaning back into his seat. He needed another drink if he was going to get through waiting to find out if his siblings were still out there breathing.