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“My dad.” I smile. “He went to them after a little someone tipped him off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She chuckles, even though it’s choked up.
“We’ll talk later, Camilla,” I tell her, hearing her sniffle. “I need to make some plans and get some sleep. Just know I’m coming for you.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Don’t text this number.” I can’t afford to be tracked, but this call was necessary. I didn’t want her to think I was dead after all hell broke loose. “Next time we see each other, you’re coming home with me.”
“Finally.”
The relief that’s evident in her voice only fuels me more. I need her to believe in me just as much as I believe this will work.
And it will.
I just have to be quick.
* * *
I’ve just purchased twenty-two businesses.
Just like that.
It’s a good thing I learned to launder money early on in life. My father made it a priority to teach me how to be Pakhan. I guess he didn’t want to be embarrassed of his successor. Now look at him, about to discover that I’m more powerful than he ever will be.
I officially own twenty-four businesses here. That’s double what my father owns, and I can’t stop the stupid grin that stretches my face as I unlock my car and get in it. Even the small truce we had last night doesn’t have me backpedaling. I’m not stupid enough to believe he gives a shit about me now. He couldn’t let Matteo get away with this because he’d look weak if he did. That’s the only reason he helped me.
After turning the key in the ignition, I head over to Camilla’s father’s house. This time, I’m bringing my gun. I won’t be caught by surprise or empty-handed by her father ever again.
The drive is silent and uneventful, and when I pull up to the mansion, I park right in front of the gate. Diagonally. Without a care in the world. That’s because I don’t have a care in the world right now, I’m getting my wife back.
My wife.
The guard’s face turns ashen as if he’s seen a ghost, and I smile at him. “I’m here to see your Don.”
The man nods once and speaks into a walkie-talkie in Italian, and I don’t understand what the fuck he’s saying, but I also don’t care. The gates open, and he gestures to go inside. “He’ll wait for you in the dining room.”
I return to my car and drive up, parking at the circular driveway. The rental car isn’t fancy, yet I also don’t feel out of place. I’m just here to get Camilla and go home with her. I don’t care about material shit right now. The way the maid looks at me in disgust though… that sends a tingle of anger down my spine.
“This way,” she says. “The boss is waiting for you over here.”
The mansion is huge with a grand staircase in the middle of the foyer, and it resembles the one in Seaside almost identically. I wonder if he had it built to match. The floors are hardwood, which is odd. I expected tile and more Italian decor. Though, it looks very American and has very… interior decorator vibes. Not one shred of personality adorns the space. The modern decor doesn’t screamCosa Nostra. Honestly, I expected something more… traditional.
I’m led to a formal dining room with a long oak wood table and twelve chairs. There are place settings where no one is dining, and it makes me curious to see if there’s dust on the China. I genuinely doubt twelve people are eating here every day.
Matteo gestures for me to sit, and I take the next chair over to put distance between us. Just as he opens his mouth to begin our conversation, Camilla barges down yet another set of stairs that lead to us.
He sighs. “Camilla, go upstairs.”
“No,” she replies defiantly. “I am here to see my husband.”
His face contorts with anger, and I interject before he has a chance to reply. “Listen to your father,solnyshko. This talk is between men.”
Camilla’s mouth opens and shuts in surprise. She nods and turns around, and I know she has tears in her eyes. She probably didn’t expect me to be so cold with her after everything. However, I need Matteo to take me seriously right now. I can’t be the weak version of me at the moment, even if that’s all I’ll ever be for her.
Once she’s upstairs—or at least out of sight—I turn my face back toward him. “I’m here for your daughter,” I announce, then hold my hand up before he has a chance to speak. “I’ve bought my father out. I’m my own man and will have no more ties to him. I’m making my own family name, and from now on, I will be Pakhan.”
He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “And what makes you think that matters to me?”
