Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 209 -

Neal.

My targets would clear things up for myself, Becca, James, and Allegra. Despite what happened between myself and Becca, I never would think she deserved to be the target of Sergei's son, Mikhail. The Russian mob would be rendered useless. I'd make sure of it.

That, on top of the Michaelson brothers, the bastards who were after me. I stared at my phone, reading the messages coming in at rapid fire from the people on my side for this case. It was all coming down to this.

My spy work would be of great help here. With my help, my allies infiltrated them properly, and it was all about pulling the trigger. I had backup plans for when things inevitably went wrong. At the moment, I was on the phone with Allegra. Incidentally, they were in Italy right now, just like I was. The whole infestation was here, ripe for the taking. It was convenient Becca and James were here right along with Allegra because that made all of the roaches gather in one area, hoping for food.

Admittedly, that made my job a lot easier. I ran my hand through my hair, feeling a depressed feeling wash over me for just a second regarding Becca. I told myself she probably wasn't as miserable as she thought I was.

Sometimes, the people you loved the most, you needed to let go. I was having trouble accepting that, but nevertheless, doing so slowly. I had been so hung up on whether she missed me or not but was telling myself over and over that it didn't matter.

At least, I didn't feel a heavy heartbreak like Allegra did.

Recalling my sister's troubles, I winced. I really hoped she didn't take Layla back. My men told me they caught sight of her, supposedly, but had lost her in the crowd before they could confirm. The alarming thing was, it'd been rather close to Allegra's house.

I contemplated calling Allegra and warning her about that or asking if she received word of Layla at all. That may rub salt in the wound, but my sister had a habit of making bad decisions when overemotional. Layla was likely incredibly manipulative.

She would, at least, no longer have connections to the Russian mob once I was done with the cronies who had roped her into working against Becca. Either she was incredibly gullible or a cold-hearted bitch who wanted everyone around her to be puppets on strings.

I wasn't about to leave my sister to take that risk. As I left my house, my gun hidden and in its holster, I gave a light smile. If I saw her trying to hurt either Becca or Allegra again, I'd shoot her myself. I almost wondered if I'd see her tonight. 'Should I make a bet with myself?' I wondered, then shook my head. Dwelling on such a cruel notion would be pointless. Part of me also hoped the girl was an idiotic, gullible person. Sure, that would mean she needed to be coddled. But at least she wouldn't be evil.

I walked up to a car but didn't get in. No, this would be happening at my home. As Mikhail emerged from the car, wearing a light smirk, I held out a hand for him to shake. I said, "Welcome. So glad you could join me for dinner." Here he was, welcome in my house, fully aware of my address. At the moment, he was staring at someone thirsty for revenge, just like him, but against Becca. She should have been mine. If I couldn't have her, no one could. I missed her so much.

That was what Mikhail was led to believe, anyway. My phone calls to Becca, followed by whining to several close friends, calls that were tracked and listened to, made that very clear. My voice had grown more and more bitter until finally, I snapped.

Reality could be a bitch. So could jealousy. I had every reason to want James dead. I could swoop in and save the day for Becca. We all would get what we wanted in the end, right? That was the reality painted for Mikhail.

"So glad you could come around and finally accept my proposition," Mikhail said, smirking. "Your information is far more helpful than any such alliance with the Michaelson brothers," he said. I smiled knowingly.

At the moment, James was out for the kill. He would be vulnerable while carrying out a plan against Ronaldo, which would be the perfect time for the Michaelson brothers to strike. As we entered my house, I asked, "The brothers think you're going to kill me here, correct?"

"They do," Mikhail said. Several of his men walked into my house. I entered my kitchen, serving up some appetizers to munch on while we talked about future plans. Lots of money was trading hands, and this alliance could very well be permanent.

At least, it could be in Mikhail's eyes. I said, "Good. James will be slain in the crossfire. Little do they know, your men's guns will be turned on them shortly after. Freeing myself and Allegra. If they don't, I may forget to tell you the coordinates to that vault."

Mikhail nodded, his eyes flashing with the challenge. "You don't trust me to uphold my end of the bargain? After such a valuable tidbit of information?"

"No," I said simply. This caused him to smile. We made more small talk, waiting for news from our connections that the jobs had been done. Both the Michaelson brothers and James would need to be taken out for this relationship to work out. Except, that's not what was really going to happen.

Giovani had become a valuable ally. After I spoke with James about Layla, we spoke more and more about our common enemies. Clearly, those two factions had been working together against us, and with a mutual enemy, we had to drop our minor piss matches for the moment.

James pointed me to Giovani, who, with his multitude of connections and plotting, could accommodate for the Michaelson brothers' death. A phone rang. That was confirmed, for Mikhail. Except, not by one of his men. That's why, supposedly... James was dead too.

Giovani had a very convincing vocal artist on his side, and the man before me fell for it, as expected. "Finally. That f*ck is given what he deserves," I said, souping it up a little. I made sure there was the appropriate amount of fire in my eyes as I pulled out a map.

"Your payment. We both got what we wanted tonight, it's only reasonable to be fair," I told Mikhail. "From one Russian to another. Eh?" I felt something press against my head and froze. The muzzle of a gun. Of course.

Mikhail gave me an apologetic grin. "I do not plan on splitting the money, comrade," he said softly. "You were useful for what we needed. Can't have you getting in the way in the future, though. Less risk in case you decide to change your mind."

There was a click. Then another. A look of horror crossed Mikhail's face as I gave a smile. "I'm an assassin, Mikhail," I said simply. "Did you really think I wouldn't know to infiltrate your base and remove the bullets from your guns? Forgot to have your men triple-check that, didn't you?"

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

The man who'd been holding an empty gun to my head fell. Blood splattered on the table as Mikhail screamed out a curse in Russian. He didn't last long. His face fell into a bowl of spaghetti unceremoniously as blood began to pool around him.

Casually, I drank my wine. I hadn't lifted a finger. Then, I raised my glass, giving a laugh. "A toast. To a massive success tonight." From the shadows emerged both my connections and those who Giovani had sent over. Right on time. To them, I slid the map and coordinates, giving a smile. "You can have all of the loot if you clean up the body here, fellas," I said. That was a good enough deal, as no doubt, they had ways of disposing of corpses. "I look forward to working with you in the future."

Wearing a Cheshire-cat-like grin, I stood up from the table and sauntered to the living room. The various groups gathered in my dining room could work things out civilly. They may be seen as greedy bastards, but they had standards and knew good allies when they saw them.

Unlike Ronaldo or the Russian mobsters that had previously been after us, they had a sense of loyalty. I collapsed on my couch, the deed done, and my sister safe. The Michaelson brothers had fallen right into that trap, as I expected. It was as simple as Mikhail telling them that Ronaldo had been in on the murder of Sergei. Ronaldo, even if he was after James, was still part of the mafia family. It hadn't been a stretch, at all, that he contributed to that entire fiasco. Not to mention, Mikhail wasn't the brightest bulb. That, perhaps, made things easier for me as well. Regardless, the deed was done. I whipped out my phone and dialed my sister, hoping she was doing well. "Hello?" she asked, her voice somewhat strained. I detected a mixture of happiness and sadness in her tone, which was odd. I decided not to press, for now, and rather gave a chuckle into the phone. "Allegra. I have news for you," I said, not saying right away just to annoy her for one moment. There was a long pause, and she sighed, realizing I wasn't going to continue until she prompted. "Are you going to tell me, or are you going to keep silent?" she asked, sass dripping from her tone.

"Maybe," I said, not specifying in what context. After a final chuckle, I said, "The Michaelson brothers have been taken out right along with Mikhail. That's no longer something you need to worry about." My sister gasped on the other line, and then, went silent. Finally, her voice dripping with relief, she said, "It's done?"

"You bet."

"Thank you, Neal," she said, her voice breaking. I could hear she was starting to cry. Thankfully, this time, those would be happy tears. A smile spread across my face as I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in victory.

"You're very welcome. Now, you can focus on your shows. How did your last one go, by the way? I heard good things, but wanted to hear it from you," I said.

"It went really well. I'm destined to be on top again, Neal. Now, I can relax a little bit and not have to worry about being captured again," she said, but then she hesitated. I knew what her mind was stuck on.

After sighing, I asked, "You're not still hoping Layla will come crawling back, right? She was working for the mob, Layla. I know you're happy they're gone. That doesn't mean Layla is free to do as she pleases and will suddenly be good for you."

"I know," Allegra said defensively. "Look, I've got it handled. We can get together and talk about matters soon, alright? How are you doing with getting over Becca?"

Touche.

"Fine," I grumbled, not wanting to dwell on it. "I get it. Anyway, we should celebrate soon now that we're free. I won't press anymore. Pour yourself a glass of wine." "I will... and I'll toast to your success and our freedom."