I pin my younger brother with a glare.
“Did you know there’s a fucking section onissuein this thing?” I demand.
Lucky looks at me like I just started speaking in tongues. “A section on tissues? Why would it matter which brand you use?”
“Not tissues,coglione. Issue. As in kids. As in my kids with the feral Russian hellcat. As in, I’m being forced to procreate with her against my will.”
What I don’t say is that, as enraged as it makes me to think of Priest and that Bratva piece of shit hammering out the details of my future down to this specific detail, the thought of fucking Ekaterina bare and getting her pregnant also makes my dick hard. I’ll chalk that up to some kind of fucked-up Neanderthal instinct and forget about it.
Lucky scowls. “Don’t take it out on me. I had nothing to do with this shitshow of yours.”
Itisa shitshow.
My life has gone from fucking amazing to full-on implosion in less than a week.
And all because of one woman. One beautiful, homicidal Russian ballerina with gorgeous tits, an ass I’d love to sink my teeth into, and a mouth that makes me think about filling it with my cock.
Maybe I need to get laid. I should call Chiara before the rehearsal dinner, get the poison out.
“I know this isn’t your fault, Luck.” I run a hand through my hair, sighing. “This is all Priest and Saint. Who needs enemies when you have brothers who marry you off to the fucking enemy?”
Lucky winces. “When you put it like that…”
“Just wait until they do it to you,” I warn.
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning on kidnapping Pakhan’s sister.” Thestronzogrins at me. “Too soon?”
I give him a dark look. “Do you want to keep all your fingers?”
We both know I’ve taken fingers for far less, but Lucky isn’t worried.
He chuckles. “The ladies would prefer it if I did.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “To supplement your tiny dick.”
He only laughs harder. Which pisses me off more.
“Was there something you wanted?” I growl. “Like I said, I’m kind of busy here.”
“Yeah. I want to make sure Mom, Bianca, and Camilla are invited to the wedding.”
I blink. In all that’s been going down, I haven’t had much time to think about our mother being back in the city. She abandoned us when we were kids after she cheated on our pop. The father of our twin half sisters was none other than Tomasso Revello, Luna’s father and the don of the Revello family—up until he was clipped at Priest and Luna’s wedding.
After years in hiding, our mother showed up with a sob story we’re not all sure we’re buying. Lucky, though, he’s fallen for it. Antonella’s got her claws in him, and she’s not letting go.
“As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t going to be a wedding,” I bite out, scrubbing a hand along my jaw.
The truth is, the more days that pass, the more I’m starting to realize there is no way out of this. I dug my own fucking grave the day I took Ekaterina off the street.
“You sure about that,fratello mio? Priest seems pretty sure that you’re marrying the hot Russian ballerina on Saturday.”
Something inside me catches fire. “That’s my future wife you’re talking about. Watch your fucking tongue.”
The bastard smirks. “Thought there wasn’t going to be a wedding.”
Fucker.
“There won’t.”
