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“Three hours ago,” my brother answers, sweating from the forehead. “It was quick. They came separately, left separately, with backup.”
“So they don’t trust each other.”
Aleks snorts. “Who in their right minds would trust Vittorio? That shady piece of shit has ‘backstabber’ written all over his wrinkly ass face.”
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
He straightens in his seat. “Was that ever really an option?”
“It was more than an option; it was the plan. We were going to wait a year or so after the wedding. Make sure all the t’s were crossed and the i’s were dotted. Give myself some legitimacy within the mafia before ending the old fuck once and for all.”
“‘We,’ huh? So Bee was in on it?”
I laugh at the memory of her eyes brightening in the dark of my living room. “Who do you think came up with the idea?”
Aleks shakes his head and whistles low. “Killing your own father… That’s cold.”
“You’ve seen the scars on her back. Do you really expect love or loyalty to survive through all that?”
“Hey, hey,” he protests quickly, throwing up his hands, “I wasn’t judging. I’m just… processing. How detailed was this plan of yours?”
Sighing, I slump back in my chair. “That was the sticking point.”
Aleksandr leans in, clearly intrigued. “Do tell.”
“Bee insisted that she would be the one to do it. I felt that we needed to go clean and simple. His death needed to look like an accident if I wanted to keep my staying power within the Zanetti ranks. Lord knows Dante, Alberto, and Valentino would have started sniffing around for any sign of funny business.” I exhale wearily. “But Bee… She wanted to be able to look him in the eye before he died. She wanted him to know that she was doing it. And that he had only himself to blame.” I scowl and snap back to reality, glancing back down at the pictures on my desk. “But that was then. Things have changed. This is going to make it a lot more complicated.”
“They outnumber us now,” Aleksandr points out quietly.
“Fuck numbers. We will win because we have to. I’m not bringing my son into an uncertain world.”
“I hear you, brother, but let’s be real: our world is always going to be uncertain. It’s part of the package. You will always be a target because of who you are and your family will always be targets because of who they are to you.”
He’s right, as much as I hate it. The irony is that, even when I think I’m in control, I’m not. That changed the moment I decided other people were important to me. First, Elena; then Bee; now, Wren.
“I’m going to go check on her.”
I start to get to my feet but Aleksandr blocks me. “What’s going on there? Have you sorted shit out with Wren?”
“How is that any of your business, brat?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and gets to his feet along with me. “Bee’s not here to bust your balls and be your voice of reason. So it falls on me.”
“Sit down and leave me alone,” I growl irritably.
Shockingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he puts both hands on my shoulders. “She may not have been born into a Bratva, but she sure as hell handled herself like she was. The girl is smart; she thinks on her feet, she fights for herself, and she doesn’t let a shootout force her into bed for a week.”
I flinch. Elena once spent a week in her room after being shot at by one of Cathal’s thugs. She was scared to step foot out of the apartment. She jumped at loud noises and saw monsters around every corner. It took a lot of coaxing to get her to leave her room, and even longer to convince her to leave the apartment.
“Low blow.”
He winces uncomfortably. “I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth. Forgive me.”
I brush past him and drift slowly towards Wren’s room. I left her sleeping in her bed twelve hours ago and when I walk in, she’s still out, her breathing peaceful and soft. I stand there and watch her for a long time.
Her belly is huge, pushing up the sheets in a gentle swell that makes my heart thud. My child is in there. My future.
Our future.
