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I press the button to send the call to voicemail. Moments later, my phone pings with incoming text messages. I can’t get a fucking break.
Roman De Luca
I know you’re ignoring me.
Roman De Luca
Pick up my fucking call, Kozlov.
Roman De Luca
We both know you’re in deep shit.
Then my phone starts ringing again. Fuck.
I answer the call and bark, “What?”
“Don’t what me, you son of a bitch, you know full well that the Pontrelli women are under my protection. What the fuck were you thinking?” De Luca’s tone has me gritting my teeth. Fucking no one speaks to me like this and lives.
“Watch it, De Luca, I’m the head of the entire Kozlov Bratva now. Show some fucking respect.”
“I’m ready to go to war for my wife’s sister. Ask yourself, do you really want to go up against me and Blake Baron? They don’t call him the Black Baron for no reason. He eats pakhans like you for lunch. And I can close down any import/export business you have with a snap of my fingers. So don’t fucking threaten me, Kozlov, I’m not in the mood.”
Shit. Frustrated, I run a hand through my hair. With all the other troubles I have going on, I don’t need to add De Luca and Baron to the mix. Everyone in the city knows not to cross them.
Which is exactly why I have a get out of jail free card with them both. It’s time to cash it in.
“You owe me, remember?” I ask, leaning my elbows on the smooth desk in what used to be my uncle’s home office. “I told you where to find my cousin when he took your wife captive. In exchange, you promised me a favor from both you and Baron. I’m cashing it in. Don’t get between me and Arianna. She’s my wife, De Luca. My wife.”
A strained silence comes through the phone. He’s probably trying to find a way out of this, but there isn’t one, not without destroying his word of honor. Which is his main currency.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll inform Baron about our arrangement.”
“Good,” I grunt.
“You may or may not know this already, but the Pontrelli women are tough. Arianna’s going to make a meal out of you if you’re not careful. And if you hurt her in any way, I’ll gut you myself.”
“You can keep your threats to yourself, De Luca, I have no intention of harming her. She’s my wife and I take that as seriously as you do.”
“Did she agree to the marriage?”
I hesitate. “Not exactly, but she’ll warm up to the idea eventually.”
“I doubt it. You can’t force a Pontrelli to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? After all, you did kidnap Sophia, before she became your wife, from her own damn engagement party to my cousin. You shouldn’t throw stones.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he drawls. “That was the best decision I ever made.”
I snort. What an arrogant bastard. He stole his woman away from her fiancé, but when I snatch Arianna from a date, I’m the bad guy? She was out on a date with Connor fucking Bane of all people. He’s the biggest playboy in New York City. If anything, I saved her from getting wrapped up in his bullshit. She should be thanking me.
Instead she avoids me. All day she’s been sitting at the breakfast nook table buried in work. Whether it’s answering emails, making phone calls, or jotting down notes, she acts like I don’t fucking exist. It hurts.
“How, uh,” I clear my throat. “How did you win over Sophia?”
His chuckle’s full of dark humor, as if he knows exactly what I’m going through with Arianna. Is it really that obvious?
“It wasn’t easy, but we negotiated an arrangement that worked for both of us. A marriage of convenience. But then she tore down all my barriers, exposed my deepest, darkest secrets, and I had to confront all of my fears to win her back.” He pauses. “Are you sure you’re ready for that, Kozlov? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let her go free?”
