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“Fucking get rid of him,” I snap. “We don’t want the Russians to know we’ve got him before we can retaliate. Right now, they don’t know we know, and I want to keep it that way.”
“Got it.”
I end the call, tucking the phone into my pants pocket, already halfway out the front door. Dante will want an update on this as soon as possible. At least now we know who was behind the attack, even if I am a little disappointed that it wasn’t the Irish. Maybe then I could’ve convinced Sienna and Dante to call this whole thing off. Instead, I’ll just be sealing my fate.
With the Russians behind the bomb, that let the Irish off scot-free. Unless I can prove they were working together. And the only way to do that…is by actually doing what I’m supposed to. At least until the actual wedding. If I get enough evidence that the Irish had worked with the Russians, then that would be an argument neither Sienna nor Dante could ignore.
The drive to Sienna and Dante’s estate isn’t too much of a drive. Though they moved outside the city to raise their little girl, I wasn’t too far away. Their house was nice—a lot nicer than the one Dante and I had grown up in as kids. They had enough land for the kid to run around, plus more. The yards were hedged in, lined with trees and bushes, all meticulously trimmed.
I pull up to the front, cutting the engine. Dante opens the door as I’m walking up the steps, dressed and ready though he looks a bit haggard.
“Just two minutes,” he tells me. Behind him, I can hear crying.
“Is my niece having some problems? Or just uncle withdrawals?” I joke, stepping in after him. He shuts the door, giving me an exasperated look.
“Someone didn’t want to go to sleep last night. She’s had a rough day.”
“Well, I’m here now.” We head upstairs, following the sounds of the distressed child.
Sienna’s bouncing her, trying to get her to calm down. Emilia Marie’s face is scarlet, her eyes screwed shut and her cheeks wet with tears. I reach for her automatically, taking the little girl in my arms. Almost immediately, she stops crying.
“Oh, thank God,” Sienna mutters. She falls back into the plush rocking chair, rubbing her temples. “I’m pretty sure my ear drums were about to explode.”
“Where’s the nanny?” I ask, looking around. It’s just us in Emilia’s room.
“We gave her an hour break before we left tonight,” Sienna says. She’s nowhere near ready. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun, her face bare, and she’s still wearing what looks like pajamas with a little baby spit-up to complete the look. “Can you watch her while I get dressed?”
“Sure thing.” I gaze down at my niece, making a silly face. Her giggle is like music to my ears.
Sienna slips into the hall, leaving us alone. Dante’s watching me as I play with his daughter, a curious look on his face. I stop, completely aware of his scrutiny.
“What?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. Just…you’re a natural with kids. It’s a shame you never wanted to get married.”
“Yeah, well, clearly that’s changed,” I reply, grimacing. For just a few seconds, I nearly forgot about tonight. “I have an update for you. About the attack.”
His eyes darken instantly. “Who was it?”
“The Russians.”
Dante swears before catching himself.
I glance down at Emilia, not even a year old. “She’s not going to understand what you’re saying,” I tell him, amused.
“Sienna doesn’t like it when I cuss in front of her.” He glances towards the door. “How did you find out it was them?”
“Cain found out that the club had hired a new bartender right before the attack. The guy apparently passed the background checks, so no one thought better of it. Turns out, he’d applied under a fake name, and he has ties to the Russian mafia.”
“At least now we know it wasn’t the Irish.” I almost think he’s making a joke, but he’s not looking at me. He’s gazing out the window, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“The Irish could have helped,” I suggest, even though I know it’s unlikely.
“Doubt it. They’ve never worked together.” He moves to the chair, sinking into it. “But this is good. This means we don’t have to watch our backs with them now—not when we have the Captain’s daughter.”
I cringe a little at his words. “They could still betray us.”
“Kill.” He gives me a look. “Not every woman will betray you.”
