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I bristle, feeling the weight of everyone’s stare on my skin. “I’m asking you to trust me on this, brat.”
Andrei’s chair pushes back with a loud squeal. “I need proof that we have an actual problem with the Zegas. Bring me something solid or put whatever personal shit you have aside so we can make some goddamn money.”
Yulian is the next one out of his seat. “If you need me,bratan, you know where to find me,” he says in parting, following Andrei out, which leaves Leo and me alone.
My younger brother smirks at the closed door, slumping in his chair. “Well played,” he says, loosening his tie, and throwing it on the seat beside him.
“What kind of proof does he expect? This is bullshit.” I huff out a dark laugh and lean back in my chair, fishing my phone from my pocket. Three swipes on my screen, and I’m looking down at a live feed of my wife asleep in my bedroom in Brooklyn. I’ve lost the fight with myself to keep Bianca at arm’s length.
We’ve settled into a new routine these past couple of weeks where she takes Eris to dog obedience school during the day—a hard-won negotiation on my part and still a work in progress—and during the afternoon lull at the casino, I go back to the penthouse to spend time with her. It’s new to me. The need to be near her. To touch her skin, to talk.
The one hard limit I have—she can’t come to the casino with me. Because if Jorge or any other enemy wanted to make a move, the casino would be an obvious place to hit.
“Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my brother?”
My head whips up at the sound of Leo’s voice in my ear. He’s watching me watch Bianca on the camera feed, amusement coloring his smile.
“Shut up.” I swipe to turn off my phone and drop it on the table in front of me. “You don’t understand what it’s like because no one wants your ugly ass.”
“If you say so.” Leo smirks at me.
I can’t sit any longer. Fire ants burn under my skin as I pace the carpeted floor of the lounge. If Jorge was only after me, I’d say bring it on, but my pound of flesh won’t be enough.
“We have to provoke him,” I say, an idea taking shape in my mind. “Give him a reason to come at us properly, none of this pissing-in-his-Cheerios shit to get a response. He wants to fight it out, let’s do it.”
Leo tilts his head, a cocktail toothpick between his lips. “Sounds like a bad fucking idea.” He launches the toothpick across the room. “I’m in. Have anything specific in mind?”
Smiling at my brother’s absolute fucking recklessness, and mine too, I pour two shots for each of us. “Yeah, I have something in mind. Drink up, and I’ll share all the dirty details.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
DANIIL
It’sa three-hour trek between Brooklyn and my family’s estate in East Hampton, but I choose to drive it rather than take the chopper. I’m craving time alone with Bianca. Just us, no distractions—unless you count Eris softly snoring on her lap. But for once, that crazy dog is still, and the only sound in the car is Morcheeba on my stereo system and the dog’s sleep sounds.
Beside me, Bianca’s wearing a short leather jacket over an elegant wrap dress and naughty wedge heels that do fantastic things to her thick legs. I am a sucker for killer curves, and she has those in spades.
When she notices my roving eye, she attempts, rather uselessly, to pull her dress down over her legs. “Shouldn’t your eyes be on the road?” she snaps playfully.
“Don’t worry, I’ve driven these roads a million times. And those legs are mighty distracting. Although I’d have a better view if that furball wasn’t spread out all over your lap.”
“Don’t talk about Eris that way,” she jokes, covering the dog’s ears. “She’ll get offended.”
“That dog has the best life of any animal I’ve ever known. And thank fuck for allergy meds or else she would have been loaded into Mikhail’s SUV.”
I glance up in the rearview mirror to get a view of Mikhail behind us, transporting not only our clothes and personal effects, but a boatload of dog stuff too.
When I first told Bianca that I wanted to move us to the Kozlov estate, I expected her to fight me on it, but she didn’t. Maybe because our family’s property offers more space to move around or because Georgia lives there and Kira is a regular visitor, but she was open to the idea. She had a fuckload of questions I did my best to answer without revealing the truth. Which is I’m ready to provoke her ex into revealing his true colors.
I’m protecting what’s mine at all costs. Bianca doesn’t need to know the shit that Jorge is pulling. He’d done enough damage to her psyche during the time they were together; he’s now my problem.
So I’d told Bianca a half truth: Living at the estate is safer, at least for now, while we grow our casino business. It’s a move which is sure to piss off more than a few organized crime families, so she accepted my reasoning and hasn’t asked about the night at the club again, which is a relief. I don’t want to lie, I just don’t want to worry her.
* * *
An hour later,we pull up to the grand mansion my family calls home. I softly shake Bianca awake. Like Eris, the winding roads lulled her to sleep. Her gorgeous deep-brown eyes open, taking me in. For a moment, she looks at me unguarded, affection and warmth evident in her gaze. I don’t get to see this side of Bianca often.
The energy has changed between us. The sex has definitely played a part. Our physical attraction is sizzling. And even though work and the situation with Jorge takes up most of my waking hours, I also make an effort to spend more time with her now.
