1.2 | The Prince of Thieves

Chapter 1

This chapter is dedicated to @fearless_eater !

three years after the end of The Yakuza Bride

'Murderer.' The woman's eyes were wide and wild with grief. She had looked shiftily about her before finally narrowing her gaze straight at him. Standing just inside a well-placed shadow, he had taken a step out, hands casually resting on his waist. He looked the woman up and down. The dark circles and lines around her eyes told of sleepless nights and strain. Her fingers were trembling – fear? Drugs? – and she was making an effort to steady them, clenching them into tight fists by her side. 'You killed my son,' she hissed.

'Your son?' His features remained free of interest. Sons, boys, dogs; they were one and the same. He never made it a point to remember those at the receiving end of his pistol.

'Andrei Stepanovich.' The name left her lips like a painful breath. 'Those... those hateful things!' she shrieked. 'Those drugs that you sold him. He overdosed and...and...' Ah. A different sort of death then. A heart wrenching sob left her. The sound would have sent gooseflesh crawling up his arm, had it not been for the fact that she had tried to stab him.

Her pitiful knife lay forgotten on the concrete floor; a thin, cheap thing that had merely grazed his arm because he had reacted faster than her. Mickey had pined her down as she flailed hysterically while Dom, calm as ever, had ordered for a room to be cleared. Leon, unused to distraught mothers, yet amused by her bravery to kill him in the presence of his own men, felt that she at least deserved to have her grievances heard.

'Your son overdosed of his own accord.'

'If you hadn't made him work for you,' she grounded out through gritted teeth. 'He wouldn't be dead!'

'In the first place, Mrs Stepanova,' Mickey spoke up from behind her. 'Andrei Stepanovich broke the laws of the bratva when he stole from us. We spared him. And now you blame us for his accident?'

'Mickey.' He shot the boy a warning glance.

'Spared him?' She scoffed, one lip curled in disdain. 'He was just a boy! You made him a drug dealer! He was going to graduate from college this year!' Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands gripped her arms as if she were cold. Andrei Stepanovich had been a bright kid. But not so bright. Leon could never really understand why people could allow themselves to be broken down by these illicit substances. Although they fetched a huge bulk of the bratva's income.

'Dom, please contact Mrs Stepanova's daughter, and have her collect her mother.'

'No!' she reacted instantly. The rapid shaking of her head caused her curls to tremble. 'No, I won't have her come here. She's a smart, pretty girl. I won't have her spoiled by suka's like you!'

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mickey glance quickly away before settling into an uncomfortable stance with his arms across his chest. He almost sighed.

'If you say so,' Leon muttered, but the innuendo was lost on her. 'Now, if you have any more to say?'

She seemed lost all of a sudden; her bluster, her courage having dissipated once her composure failed. Behind her, Dom was ready for action. If he gave the command, the boy would strike, for the attempted murder of any of them was akin to seeking a death sentence. In his world, you killed only if you could perform the deed.

He crossed over to the door, wrenched it open, then stood aside. Three pairs of astonished eyes turned to him.

'The exit is here, Mrs Stepanova. Since you have nothing more to say, then I'd rather you not waste any more of our time.'