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“My house.”
But first, I need to call Luka. He’s the boss and I respect his authority, unlike some of my other brothers. He taught me everything I know and after everything I heard tonight, it’s damn clear we need a new retribution plan. And since I’m not making any pit stops with the princess, I stab Luka’s phone number into my phone at a red light. He answers on the first ring through the speaker.
“Is it done?”
“Not exactly.”
“Fuck, D.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “What happened?”
“Look, there were…complications.” My eyes slide to my right where Daniela snuggles against Larysa’s chest. “New threats. Big problems.”
“Okay.” Luka sighs. I can almost see him fist his hair on the other end of the phone. He does that a lot when he’s frustrated. And he’s always frustrated, mainly about the mayhem my older brothers cause. I guess as his protégé, he expected me to be different.
I’m not.
“I’ll be over in the morning. With the complications.”
Luka lets out a groan. “I told you going over there would be a bad idea.”
“It went from bad to worse.”
Tomorrow, we bury my mother. I vowed to have her death avenged before she was put in the ground.
Another failure. Dima’s condescending voice assaults my mind, and I slam my hands on the steering wheel to block it out. But it’s always there, needling the fuck out of me.
Shit, if he wasn’t already dead, I’d have killed him a hundred times over in my head.
“It’s not your fault,” Luka says.
“Except it is,” I snap. “Look, I’ll talk to you when I see you.”
“Keep your eyes open, D.”
“Always.” I click to end the call, a sharp breath expelling from my mouth. A quick sidelong glance at Larysa’s profile makes my chest tighten.
Complications. Too many to count.
I shift, then hit the gas, only to lift my foot from the pedal when a soft cooing sound punctures the tense silence between us.
Shit. I have a kid.
The car slows.
“Thanks for resisting the urge to drive like a maniac.” Larysa has the seatbelt pulled around both of them, but we both know it won’t do a damn bit of good if we get into an accident.
So for the first time in my life, I drive responsibly, like lives are at stake.
Because now they are.
I hang a left off of Ocean Drive and drive toward the underground garage for my condo.
“Holy shit.” Larysa whistles as she looks up. “The whole building is made of glass?”
“Yeah. That’s why it’s called Glass Miami Beach.”
“Smartass. It’s gorgeous, which is no reflection on you since I’ve already decided you are way too big of a dick to live here.”
I chuckle, rounding a turn that leads to the steep driveway. “Reflection. Funny, because of all the glass. Maybe you’re a comedian, too, and you just don’t know it.”
