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Dimitri laughs with me. “Do you know how long he’s staying in the city?”
I shake my head. I’ve been wondering the same thing. I know there’s another reason he doesn’t want to come back, but I don’t know what it is. He’s probably tired of being tied up in all my shit, but it’s not my actions that cause him issues—it’s his strategy. He’s fucking lucky Giovanni’s turning softer than before.
“Do you want to target Nina too?” Dimitri asks.
I shake my head quickly. “No. She’s pregnant.”
His eyebrows rise. “Okay, that’s a two-for-one.”
His words irritate me. I know he craves a fight and has to be the first to spill blood, but this is where I draw the line. A thick fucking line. “I’m not taking his wife away.”
“What the fuck happened to you, Mikhail?” He looks at me, his lips pressed tightly together.
“Nothing fucking happened,” I snap. I can’t have my men questioning me, but I don’t want to lose sight of who I am. If I had a daughter on the way, I’d protect my wife with my life. One of the many reasons I don’t form emotional attachments.
I never want to harm Nina, only Giovanni. But now I can use her against him to get what I want. He doesn’t have to know I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt his family; he just needs to believe I’m capable of it.
That’s something Kirill taught me: I need to be steps ahead of my enemies. I need to think like them. He always said that in order to generate concern, you need to use their weaknesses.
That’s what I’m trying to do with Sloane. I’m sure she has more than one weakness. Her family is an obvious one, but I’ve yet to find another. I plan to tear her down till there’s nothing left but bone. I’ll know all her secrets, fears, hopes, and dreams ... everything.
Dimitri’s hands find his face and he hides his expression from me. “Are you sure Sloane doesn’t know anything?”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out. She fights fire with fire.”
“I told you,”—his face looks blank, just like mine—“the girl is Bratva too. She was raised by Ludis—of course she’s going to find your spot. She’s fucking ruthless. I like it.” He smiles as his mind drifts off into oblivion. He stares at the ceiling, a small smile curving the corner of his lips.
“Dimitri.” I snap my fingers in his face.
“Right. Um. Do you think if they see her, they’ll make a deal?” he asks.
I stare down at my desk questioning my next move. I knew I wanted Sloane here, but I’m not as prepared as I’d like to be.
“No. They’ll ambush, and I don’t want to risk your lives. The Romano and Genovese men have an army now they’re combined.”
“We need to arrange a meeting with them eventually,” Dimitri insists.
“It’s only been a few days. I want to see them sweat a while longer. You can go,” I tell him, and he exits the room and shuts the door behind him.
I spend the next couple of hours scrolling through tedious documents, planning on taking more from Giovanni than just Sloane.
CHAPTER8
SLOANE
The tips of my fingers graze the birch oak shelves. I’ve never seen a room like this before. The ceiling is curved with wooden columns that stabilize the roof, and paneled windows cover the entire wall. The room has three levels. While it’s not a large room, it feels that way.
The steps are each lined with a warm yellow light, and so are the white bookcases, which are filled with books I recognize instantly. I’ve read almost every single one. Books have always been my escape. For years I’ve buried my head in thousands of words, losing all concept of time.
I kneel to the ground and pull out a book with a bright pink spine. Flipping through the pages, I notice red ink lining the margins—someone’s handwriting.
Lifting my eyes, I glance around the room. It has a feminine touch to it, which is the opposite of the rest of the boat. I think that’s why I like it so much. With curiosity getting the better of me, I begin to open drawers. Leave it to me to snoop through everything the day I finally decide to leave my room.
Shriveled and dried roses fill the top drawer below the stacks of books. They’ve turned a brown color over time, but I know they were originally white.
That’s odd.
I open the second drawer and see a notebook. Picking it up, I notice the edges of the paper are folded because it’s been shoved into a small space with a bunch of other items.
