Devoured by his Enemy Eyes

Playing with the Beast

Jeremy's POV

Unknown: This video will go viral if you don't do what is required of you (sent video clip)

Me: What do you want?

Unknown: Isn't it obvious…

Me: You'd have to be more specific.

Unknown: We want you Jeremy Vongov.

Me: You know who I am then???

Unknown: Jeremy Vongov the elusive bastard heir of Russian Businessman, Maxim Vongov rumored to have blood ties with the Russian mob.

Me: Then you know my father is very powerful yes?

Unknown: We know that and more.

Me: Enlighten me.

Unknown: We wouldn't want to bore you with mundane details of the contact.

Me: Yes, the two drunk girls stupid enough to bug us, I take it they're your 'contact'

Unknown: Your concern is with the video we just sent because one click and your father's empire is ashes.

Me: You think you can get away with this?

Unknown: Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy, you know this isn't time for threats, especially not from you.

Me: You should run while you can because I will find you and…

Unknown: Be at the GMJ Gone Girls blowout on Friday night. (Sent an encrypted link)

Me: I will hunt down everyone you care about before your very eyes until you come, crawling on your knees, begging for death, and even then I won't stop.

Unknown: Stand at the center of the pool by midnight. If you're a second late, the video goes viral.

I send another message with more promises but there's no reply. The phone screen cracks under the weight of my anger. My work cell rings and I answer immediately.

Twenty minutes later, Malakai and Junnev are in my house. Malakai's on my work desk, his laptops all set up, a canned Coke halfway to his lips while Junnev sits on the couch inhaling Chinese takeout.

Irritation bites at my skin and my throat is dry as I turn to Malakai, “Did you trace it?”

“I traced the signal right here in Sabbel but before I could pinpoint the location, the signal disappeared.” He pops a piece of gum into his mouth.

Junnev opens a beer, “What about those texts, seems a bit off to me.”

My molars grind, “They're amateurs. They aren't linked to Guerrero or the mob.”

Guerrero is my father's rival and the ‘supposed' cause of the Bratva war. He wants my father's place but the Bratva will never accept a half-blood as their leader so he's taking out my father's supporters one by one. At least that's what Maxim Vongov believes.

“Think they know what the video means?” Malakai asks.

I grunt, “The idiots are American. I don't think they've decrypted the translation, else we'd already be in Father's torture chambers.”

Junnev agrees, “If they did, they would've gone to Maxim and the council. We'd be six feet under.”

“What if they already went to Maxim and he's the one plotting this?” Malakai argues.

My jaw tightens, “We'll find out at the party.”

I Google KMJ Gone Girls thinking a girl band will pop up instead I see social media accounts splashed with pictures and videos of three eighteen-year-old girls and in one of the images, one of the trio has little freckles splattered across her turnip nose and cheeks. Her gaze reminds me of a terrible past but her freckles make me enlarge the photo until those freckles are across every inch of my screen.

I don't realize I've been caught staring at the image until Junnev clears his throat. He gives me a questioning look while I glance at Malakai who's currently blowing a gum balloon.

“Ever heard of the KMJ Gone Girls?”

Junnev shrugs like I knew he would, he only lives for food, football, and our brotherhood, but Malakai's eyeballs nearly bulge out of his skull.

“Of course, I've heard of them, I know the KMJ Gone Girls. They're the top-rated influencers in America. They set trends for other influencers doing the craziest stuff you'd ever see a girl do. They once beat up an armed man who'd tried to rob the grocery store they were using for their weekly post. How have you NOT heard of them?” He asks with a confused frown.

Malakai's a tech wiz. He's either surfing the net, hacking the net, or hacking through p***y.

I send him the encrypted link, “Track it.”

“The Gone Girls invite-only party?” His voice is bubbling with excitement and I stare at him, taking in his six foot six stature, two hundred and forty-nine pounds of solid muscle, and fiery hair.

This guy carved up two dealers who were ripping off the Bratva less than seven hours ago with a broken bottle all the while laughing as they screamed their agony like a deranged psychopath the entire time yet here he is, preening a crazed fangirl.

Junnev snorts at my expression.

“It's the Gone Girls!” Malakai protests like that's supposed to make sense and I snap.

“We're about to be ruined by a gang of amateurs. Amateurs that followed and successfully bugged the current leader of the Bratva and his heir. Amateurs that chose an invite-only party to negotiate their terms. Amateurs who somehow got an invite before the hosts officially sent out invites.”

Their smiles drop, “What do you need Kila?”

“Kai, I want to know everything about those girls before noon tomorrow.”

He gives a sharp nod.

I turn to Junnev, “Justin's hosting a team party tonight. Get the guys to spill any rumors going around. Find out why the famous KMJ Gone Girls are hosting a party in this small town over two thousand miles away from the bright party lights of Manhattan.” He groans but nods.

Junnev abhors Justin and his little gang but as the Co-captain of the football team, he doesn't have much of a choice.

They stay for two more hours before I kick them out of my apartment. I whip out my phone and scour the internet for the freckled girl but her face is always encased in heavy make-up, making her almost unrecognizable, covering those freckles that make my heart pound with memories of lost longings.

I trace her face with my fingers, committing each contour, each curve, and each imperfection to memory.

How I'd love to carve those edges into stone. To recreate those freckles with my bare hands whilst holding her eyes hostage as I immortalize them.

A tingle starts up my spine. This is going to be interesting.

“The eyes are all wrong,” I muse, taking in the baby blues staring at me.

I head into my bedroom, strip out of my clothes, and step into the shower. Shutting my eyes against the stream of scalding water, I tip my face to the shower head and a pair of hazel eyes stare back at me. They remind me of the doe I'd shot down on my first hunting trip with my father. The doe had stared so trustingly into the seemingly naive eyes of a nine-year-old, convinced I wouldn't take the shot. Now these clear hazel, tinged with caramel fever and black rings are staring down at me, holding me hostage like the doe once did. I'm not sure who they belong to but I will find out and deliver to them the same fate as the doe.

It's been a while since something stirred up my beast but someone's bringing trouble to my door step and f**k if I'm not going to show up.

It's been silent for far too long, time to shake things up.