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Her eyes grow large as saucers. "Oh, Xander. That must be so difficult for you. I certainly wasn't expecting to see him that way. It hit me like a blow, and he's never really liked my family."
"I've been trained since birth to take over from him. I'm ready."
"That's not what I meant. He's your father."
I know what she meant, and weakness like that in the Mafia got you killed. The Famiglia needed a man with a strong backbone.
If Father's time was here, then it was here. Soon, it would be mine too.
"Yes, he is. We should get you home. I have a meeting to get to."
Her tongue peeks out between her lips, and I feel it like a touch of sparking flames to my skin, pinpricks of heat and fire rushing over my body.
"Where is home?" She asks suspiciously.
That has my hackles rising. She doesn't have to make it sounds so fucking detestable. "Your father's house. I certainly wasn't referring to mine."
She makes me feel like a monster for trying to be good. Fucking hell.
"You don't have to. Romero's here with me,” she waves at the bodyguard.
My insides twist. She prefers another man's company to mine. I clench my jaw and press my hands into a fist under the table. To think, Daniel had said she wanted me. Yeah right. He obviously didn't know his sister as much as he pretends to.
"I want to, Mel. Now let's go,” I growl at her.
She’s not going to get another man’s attention.
She’s going to have mine.
And damn it.
She’s going to like it.
6
XANDER
Three hours later, I walk across the bridge and into the basement. The table has been pushed up against the wall, and the men crowd around, most of them smoking, all suited and holstered, their firearms right in the open.
The room falls quiet with my entrance, and I take a chair at the head, placing my gun within easy reach.
"Good evening, boss." Ryder's voice has my gaze swinging to him.
"Evening, Ryder. What's the news today?"
"Not much happening. The streets have been quiet all evening. We're thinking something happened, or they've backed up."
Carl cuts in. "For now, boss. We can't believe they're gone for good."
And we can't be lulled into a false sense of security. It's impossible they're gone just like that. The Russians are sly, and they have the money to throw around.
"And the man we found?"
"Dead. Didn't survive the torture." Carl says blandly, obviously unbothered by the man's death, and considering the same man had been responsible for the death of at least one of our men, neither was I.
"Do we have anyone on the inside we can trust?" I look away from all of them, scratching at my itching scalp.
I'm hungry, but the Famiglia comes first. Always has and always will for a made man.
