Page 19 of Savage Little War

“Ferro killed him,” Sean says. “And he tried to pin it on me.”

Cara shows up in the doorway at that moment, concern immediately filling her eyes. “What happened? What did you find?”

I shake my head. “I’ve seen enough. We got what we needed.”

We’re not playing defense anymore. I’m going to hit Ferro where it hurts. Money. Men. Legacy.

And this time, I’m not asking the Council for permission.

Before Cara can say anything, Mark appears behind her with his phone pressed against his ear. “Bad news. The other team lost Aldo. He took off on foot and ditched them. We should go before he shows up here and realizes what we were looking at.”

I don’t want to be in this room anymore, and I don’t want to look at the contents in that folder.

They killed my friend. They shot him and his guards in the middle of the day and did who knows what with their bodies.

And the Bratva lied to me and everyone else when they said that he was back in Russia!

Who the fuck can I trust?

“I’m sorry.” Cara hugs me around my waist, squeezing me tightly until I can breathe again.

She must’ve seen the photo and put two and two together. I haven’t told her much about Mikhail, but she’s probably figured out how much the Pakhan meant to me.

“I should’ve known it was Paolo. I spent all this time blaming the Irish, your father,” I murmur, my sadness and rage colliding.

“You’ll avenge him. You’ll get your chance,” Cara promises me.

I look down at her, my lungs devoid of air. I do want revenge for my friend, but what I want the most is to keep Cara safe from a monster like Ferro. I already failed once before.

I won’t fail again, because now I know exactly who I’m hunting.

6

Cara

Dmitri is not himself for the next few days.

I can’t blame him, though. He just found proof that Paolo and his loyalists killed his friend.

He saw him lying dead in a photograph.

That would mess anyone up for a few days.

But I’m not sure that’s the only reason he’s been distant. He’s left me alone at the penthouse with a guard multiple times now, and he always gives me vague answers about what he’s off doing.

I can’t help but wonder if seeing what happened to Mikhail made him change his mind about me helping out. Maybe he’s so worried about me ending up like his friend that he won’t even let me leave the penthouse anymore. It sounds paranoid until I remember what world we live in.

Something is definitely going on with him.

Whatever it is, I need to tell him about the baby soon in case that changes anything for him.

When I hear him finally come back home around three o’clock in the afternoon, I leave my bedroom, breathing in deeply to prepare myself for the conversation, only to freeze at the sight of a few people I don’t know carrying party decorations inside.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Dmitri gestures to the men, not even looking at me yet. He directs them toward the kitchen, voice crisp, almost too crisp. “Food and drinks go there. Keep it classy. Living room, dining room, kitchen. Nothing in the hallways.”

“Dmitri,” I say, motioning for him to walk over to me. “What’s happening?”