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o;You are probably wondering what you are doing here,” he said, his tone serious. “I will level with you—I do not wish to hurt you, but I will if you make me, so I am asking for cooperation. I know you have fight in you, considering you have twice scarred my son.”
She gaped at him as he motioned toward Nunzio. Son?
“I should explain,” he said. “I am Ivan Volkov, and I have been acquainted with the DeMarcos for many years. Vincent was a child the first time we met. He was a pretentious prick, much like I hear his youngest is.”
He laughed, as did Nunzio, and Haven felt tears forming at the mention of Carmine.
“Did I strike a nerve, Principessa?” he asked. “I hear you care for the boy. It would be a pity if something happened to him, so let us hope it does not come to that.”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Please don’t . . .”
“I do not wish to hurt him. If it helps, I have not heard of his death, so he is probably fine.”
His voice taunted her. She tried to fight back tears, but it was too much to take.
“Aw, do not cry.” He reached toward her but she recoiled. He dropped his hand without touching her. “Where was I?”
“You were talking about how much of a prick Vincent was,” Nunzio said.
“Ah, yes. This was before he met his wife, of course. Shame what happened to her. I suppose I should feel guilty, but it was her fault.” He shook his head. “Meddling bitch.”
“You? You did it?”
“You can say I conducted that beautiful symphony.”
“I don’t understand,” Haven said. “What do I have to do with any of this?”
“You have the power to bring down the enemy, and that is what you are going to do.”
She tensed, Carmine’s words from weeks before hitting her again. I was born with enemies. My last name alone gives me more than I could ever earn.
“I have laid the groundwork around Chicago, taking over businesses,” he continued. “We have wiped out the competition, except for the Italians. People are loyal to them, and they have proven to be strong. I do not like being told where I can go and what I can do. I have found little ways in and turned a few, but I need something bigger, someone higher up. I need to crack the leadership, and Nunzy created a rift. They have held themselves together, but it is different now. Now I have you.”
“Me? But I’m just . . . I’m no one.”
“Oh, you are definitely someone,” he insisted. “You are my golden ticket. If I kidnapped the DeMarco boy, the Italians would come with guns blazing, but you are trickier. Salvatore will be happy to have you gone, the complication removed, but the others will not give up. There is nothing I enjoy more than seeing them fight. And when the DeMarco boy demands action, someone will spill the truth about who you are, thinking it will make Salvatore want to help.”
Ivan laughed long and hard, as if that were the funniest thing he had ever heard.
“Who am I?” She immediately regretted the question, but it was too late to take it back.
“I have been trying to tell you. You are the buried treasure, the one Salvatore thought would never be found, but I have dug you up.” He reached out, his calloused finger drawing an X on her forehead. “When the dust settles and they have killed one another, everything will be mine for the taking . . . including you.”
He stood and turned to the blond-haired woman. “Get her some water and something to eat, Natalia. Let her rest. You and your brother are on watch tonight.”
* * *
Haven sat as still as possible, her eyes vigilantly darting around the room as everyone filtered out, leaving her and Nunzio alone. He strolled to her and knelt down, placing his hand on her knee.
She fought back a shudder as his hand roamed up her leg and came to rest on her thigh. He squeezed tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh, and she cringed as he pulled himself up. Leaning over, he paused with his mouth next to her ear. “Miss me?”
A chill shot down her spine when his tongue swirled around her earlobe. Panicking, she shoved him. He stumbled a few steps, and before he could react, she pulled her leg up and slammed it into his crotch. He hunched over as she jumped up, her vision blurring from the sudden movement. She sprinted for the metal door across the room, but barely made it halfway there when he grabbed her from behind.
“I like it when you fight,” Nunzio said breathlessly. She cried for help as he dragged her across the room, grabbing a roll of duct tape from the card table.
She shook her head at the sight of it. “No!”
He smirked. “Yes.”
