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Both bodyguards look startled by my outburst, their backs straightening and their chins drawing toward their chests in a subtle display of surprise. I never have such outward expressions of frustration.
“Please,” I beg, blinking away the tears before they can fall.
Rocco’s stoic face seems to crack just a little, but he presses his lips together, confirming his silence. Fury spikes in me as I find myself entirely without allies when all I want to do is keep the people I love safe. Spinning on my heel, I stomp back toward my car, then stop.
Maybe I need to come at this from a different angle.
Rocco takes another drag from his cigarette as he watches me approach.
“Your silence could end up killing Nicolo, if not our whole family,” I warn, jabbing my pointer finger toward the ground.
My brother might be willing to start a war over some stupid thirst for revenge. But I want no part of it, and I will utilize any tactic necessary to stop Nico before he does something no one can fix.
Shock flits across both bodyguards’ faces, and they exchange another look.
“What do you mean?” Sep asks.
“I mean that if you don’t take me to Nico right now, then he’s going to start a war with the Veles. I’ve been to New York. I’ve seen the men they have. It would be bloody and brutal, and the odds of it taking Nico’s life are more than I want to risk. Besides, after all the effort my father has gone to ensuring an alliance, I think he would be pretty fucking irate to find out I could have stopped my brother from making a stupid move if only you two hadn’t gotten in my way.” I glare up at them with all the authority I can muster.
And to my surprise, it works. Or at least, I hope it has.
Sep and Rocco step into action as one–no communication necessary as they grip my elbows and steer my back toward the car.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I slide back inside the car.
“To Nicolo,” Sep says shortly, following me in.
Rocco recites an address I don’t recognize to Lonnie, and my driver pulls onto the highway within minutes, heading south.
Anxiety bubbles in my stomach, and I fight back that new and ever-present sense of nausea lingering at the back of my throat. Whether it’s my morning sickness or just the intense level of stress I haven’t been able to shake since I found out I’m pregnant, I have no clue.
I recognize the lower edge of the Marchetti territory line as we cross it, heading into Shulaya Bratva territory. Where Ilya Popov presides.
I know little about the Shulaya beyond who theirpakhanis and that my father warned me long ago never to enter their territory without his permission. A shudder races down my spine as I break that rule for the first time in my life. I don’t honestly know if we’re welcome here.
I’m only vaguely familiar with Ilya Popov from the handful of dinners he’s attended at my father’s house since Cassio and his sister, Bianka, got engaged. And I don’t get the sense that Ilya cares much at all for my family. But Bianka is a different story entirely, and perhaps since she and my brother are getting married, that makes the Shulaya clan our unlikely allies.
At least, that’s what I would infer from the dinner conversation Ilya had with my father.
Still, if we’re heading into his territory, I fear that means the behemoth of a Russianpakhanmight be involved in capturing Pyotr. And the only thing that chills my blood more than the thought of my brother taking revenge on Pyotr is Ilya helping him do it.
“Nico, what have you done?” I breathe, peering out the window as the city fades behind us and we enter the more industrial side of Chicago.
Off in the distance, I can see the shipping yard and warehouses crop up with increasing frequency as we roll down the highway.
“Why here?” I ask, turning to Sep and Rocco, my nerves making it impossible to stay silent any longer. “Did Nico tell you?”
Rocco gave another casual shrug. “When I asked, Nico just said Ilya wouldn’t mind.”
Fuck.
“Lonnie, can you make this car go any faster?” I ask.
He does wordlessly, and the Escalade leaps forward, racing down the highway.
36
PYOTR
