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“Eight weeks.”
“I’ll be sure to tell the Brotherhood,” I say. “Expect a ton of gifts.”
Matthias laughs. “You should see what my men have already bought for the baby. I suggest sending items meant for a five- or six-year-old.” Another laugh.
It doesn’t surprise me. Matthias’s men are loyal and like family to him. When Tomas sent him to becomePahkanin Seattle, we offered him a spot in our ranks. He’d politely declined. It didn’t surprise me. Matthias has spent his whole life under, or part of, someone else’s organization. He wanted to do the work himself.
And he had.
“I know you aren’t just calling to ask me how I am doing.”
I sigh. “I need a favor.”
“Okay.”
That is it. He never asks questions when it comes to me asking favors. Not that I have asked him for many. But when the time comes, I know he’ll never turn me down. Just as I would never turn him down. We are brothers in theBratva. Leaders who trust each other implicitly.
“Rumor has it that the Kavanaughs have a hacker who puts together crime scenes and can find patterns no one else can.”
“Is this about the Castellanos massacre?”
Of course, he already knew.
“Yes.”
“I have no problem forwarding you what Bridgett finds,” he says. “But can I ask why? I thought you would be happy over their deaths?”
“Vanya Castellanos showed up at my door.”
He lets out a long huff. “That explains it.”
My brow furrows. “Explains what?”
“You’ve been obsessed with that girl since you met her,” he snorts.
“I married her best friend,” I deadpan.
“And the only one you ever complained about, whenever things were brought up, was Vanya.”
Matthias chuckles when I mutter lowly how wrong he is. I’ve never been obsessed with Vanya Castellanos. Just taking down her family. “You keep living in that bubble of denial and I’ll call you when I have more information.”
“Speciba, brat.” Thank you, brother.
“Vsgeda.” Always.
Seven
Ineed to get out of here.
Fast.
An untouched tray of food sits on the nightstand next to the luxurious king-size bed, but I’m in no mood for food. My stomach is still churning. Rampant images of blood and death rush through my mind, making me ill. My body still has splatters of blood on it. Now dry. Dirt and debris cling to my unwashed hair and skin. The only parts of me completely clean are the areas around the bullet wound and the soles of my feet.
Coming here was a mistake.
I should have known he would take advantage of the situation. Part of me can’t believe that he hates me enough to sell me. A shiver crawls up my body. What’s in it for him? Whomever he sells me to would gain access to the entire Castellanos empire. An empire he’s been after long before he married Ada. I’d seen proof. Proof I’d shown my best friend who couldn’t stand the betrayal.
She killed herself when she’d learned of Adrian’s treachery. He’d been using her. Manipulating her. Still, it was my fault. If I hadn’t shown her the evidence…
