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Brett’s eyes turned to me with complete malice. “If you have an issue with how I treat my athlete,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Then you shouldn’t have let her get shot in the first place.”
I flinched. It was a slap in the face. A douse of ice cold water. Though it was nothing I hadn’t said to myself a thousand times already, the blame spoken out loud was harsh.
“You left her alone, too.” I didn’t want to defer the blame, but we shared it in this instance. I gestured to what was happening in the gym, the girl rowing, her sweat streaming down her face. “And you’re going to hurt her.”
“Every drop of her sweat in training,” Brett said, nodding to himself, his eyes growing distant. “Is a drop of her blood that won’t be spilled when the war comes to her.” He turned to me, the malice still swirling under his glint. “And it’s coming, lover boy.”
He walked down the hall, his steps echoing behind him.
Something was still in the back of my mind. The Russian trio had tracked her because they had recognizedhim.Now that I stared into his eyes, I began to wonder if I had seen him before as well.
I picked my phone out of my pocket and typed my cousin’s number. Eoghan picked up, his face opening onto the screen. He was in his office with a cigar in his mouth.
“I was wondering when you would call,” Eoghan said, his Irish strong. He definitely had a few drinks. What time was it there? The middle of the fucking morning? Surely, too early for a buzz.
“And why is that?” I asked him, noting his glassy eyes.
“Anton Vasiliev got a strange package the other day. It arrived by boat.” He grinned, then took a puff of his cigar. “It seems that some teenage boy was shipped to him in a box with holes cut into the top of it. The kid was bleeding pretty badly, I hear. Someone had carved a letter J into his chest.”
I smiled at the memory of how that brand was placed on his skin. I would normally empathize with a young person that was swept into the Mafia life. Rarely was it a choice. But the kid had shot my Rose, which meant he deserved everything he got.
“The J was interesting.” Eoghan chuckled. “It seems that the initial was given to him by none other than Jericho Vasiliev.”
The name dumbfounded me. “You’re sure? Jericho?”
“That’s right.” Eoghan confirmed. “The boy said it himself. Jericho Vasiliev carved it into his chest after he tried to kidnap the man’s daughter.”
He pulled the cigar from his mouth and looked at the lit end, allowing the smoke to drift up in silver ribbons under the yellow light of his desk lamp.
“Funny thing is that I don’t remember Jericho being married, or having a lover.” He looked at me with a perplexed look. “I had no idea he had a kid, much less an adult daughter. And this is the part that confused me.”
Eoghan adjusted back in his seat, and I heard the squeaking of the chair as he leaned back.
“His daughter is none other than your little fighting Rose.” He looked at me with a knowing wink. “That New York fight was the battle of the bastard Bratva children.” He chuckled and brought his fingers to his lips in a chef’s kiss. “Absolutely delicious, if you ask me.”
Eoghan was definitely drunk. He wasn’t a man who was free with information. He was a person who made you pay for every morsel of intelligence.
He laughed a little, then said with great satisfaction. “Now the bratva have an internal war. Two brothers are now going to go toe to toe for control over the New York bratva. Your little fighter girl has paved the way for me to take over the entire city without even lifting a finger.”
I stared at the girl in question. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and it bounced with her movements, draping over her shoulders as she came forward with the rowing motion, then it fell back, almost touching the small of her waist as she pulled back on the oar.
“Anyway,” Eoghan finally cleared his throat. “What were you calling about?”
“Nothing.” I told him, unwilling to share any information now that he had been so free to give me his. “Just wanted to check if you had more news. It looks like you did. Was there more?”
Eoghan shrugged. “No, that was all the good bits. You should get back here for the takeover. I’d love to have you by my side for it.”
I hung up on him. Pieces were coming into place. I was starting to understand the strange enigma that made up my little vixen.
I couldn’t bear it anymore. I walked in. Her exertion made the room warm, and her scent permeated the air. Her sweat, her shampoo… just her. It perfumed the air and made me light-headed with desire.
I walked to her and knelt by the little display that showed the number of calories she had burned: 580.
I looked at her. She didn’t stop staring at the display. Her eyebrows knotted.
“You should stop.” I told her.
She shook her head. “I have to get to 1000.”
