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The blood drains from her face. “Does my father know?”
Vito and Bianchi laugh loudly. “I won’t be the one to tell him.” Vito points his fork at me. “That is your problem, and no one’s going to help you out of it.”
“I am not giving up my child,” I respond hotly.
“The father-in-law, on the other hand …” Bianchi mutters under his breath.
Vito ignores the comment and continues to speak to Eden. “All I meant is that your father may not be pleased. You’re his little girl, Edie. No matter how old you are.” Vito places his fork down and stares at Eden. Quietly, she returns his gaze. “Edie.” His voice is laced with both pride and warning. “You’re becoming quite adept at playing this game. But remember, there’s always a price to pay. You’re about to lose your innocence. And you’ll never get it back.”
Eden frowns, refusing to let his words shake her. “I made my choice, Uncle,” she replies. “If losing my innocence is the cost of protecting my baby, then that is what it will be.”
Vito sighs, admiration mixed with disappointment crossing his pleasant features. “Just promise me you won’t lose your soul to win, Edie. Don’t make me bury another Genovesi again.”
Eden meets his gaze unflinchingly. “I’m well aware of what’s at stake. I have no intention of becoming a pawn.”
“Good,” Vito replies. “Because in this world, pawns are the first to be sacrificed.” He looks down at his plate, quickly losing his appetite, then focuses on me. “There’s a property in Jersey City we’re willing to let go.”
“Is that right?” I laugh. “Are we playingMonopoly?”
Shrugging, he tosses his napkin on the table. “You’ll marry my niece someday, and we may have to mend our fences. If I bring Zakhar to you, he will only talk. I promise. And since you’ll be my nephew-in-law someday, I suggest you listen. Not because he’s family, but because he has information that a pakhan needs to hear.”
“You said my parents had a house in Long Island?” asks Eden.
“Yes, it was a gift from Gennady to Zakhar when he became his Avtoritet.”
“Is it still there?” she asks breathlessly.
He nods, taking an interest in her question. “Yes, but no one lives there. I hired a caretaker to keep it from falling down.” He shrugs his shoulders. “One day, someone might move in.”
Eden lowers her head and bites her lip, and we give her the moment alone with her thoughts. The conversation slows down until the only noise at the table is the sound of silverware against the plates. We sit quietly, thinking about other things, and itamazes me that I can share a meal with a Lanzzare without drawing my gun.
If I hadn’t taken Eden, would Zakhar have targeted the brigadiers instead?
The result would’ve been the same. I would have gone after the traitor Zakhar and sought leverage against him.
One way or another, I would have found Eden.
She gently touches my shoulder, pulling me out of my doubts. “I would like to leave,” she says. “The baby needs a break.”
Vito smiles at Eden. “You really do look like her,” he says. “Beautiful, strong-willed, and fearless.” He turns to me, holds out his hand, and we shake in full view of the bar.
“I hope Emilio Lanzzare is also on our side,” I tell Vito.
Vito places his other hand over mine and gives it a meaningful squeeze. “Christian is running the big show now, and his concern is also for his niece’s welfare. Eden is important to all of us.”
19
NIKOLAI
The elevator doors open,and we arrive back at the penthouse intact. Not what I expected from meeting with a Lanzzare, but life has been unpredictable since Eden arrived. We step off the elevator, holding hands, ready to spend time alone in our bedroom after the uneasy meeting. But our delusion of a peaceful home ends quickly as Mercy’s muffled shouts pierce through the door of a staff closet, a string of shouted obscenities that would make a sailor blush.
Pavel sits in a folding chair, blocking the door, and his stern gaze focuses on me. “She tried to make off with your laptop, but I caught her,” he explains. “This one is good with locks.”
Eden’s gaze flicks to the closet, then back to me. Her expression is unreadable, but she doesn’t object, silently agreeing with Pavel’s actions. The wheels turn in her head as she processes everything that has happened—her thoughts challenge what she thinks is right and wrong.
“Ask Dominika to take her back to her room,” she says, and I nod my approval.
Pavel looks skeptical as he takes his phone out of his jeans pocket. He taps the screen, looking relieved that Dominika will have to deal with our rowdy houseguest.
