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“Which means leaving Vegas,” Bambi adds. “Keep her away from Martin.”
“Done.” Roxy doesn’t hesitate to agree to that. But then she frowns. “I’m gonna have to quit my job, aren’t I?”
I nod. “It’s for the best. Keeps you out of trouble with LVPD, and you’ll be able to keep a constant eye on Willow. Your own expenses will be covered, of course.”
“Of course.” Roxy sighs and stuffs her fingers into her back pockets. “Well, then. I guess I should start apartment hunting in Reno.”
Bambi taps a few things out on her tablet. “We’ll have a safe house ready for you in Colorado. Something private out by Breckenridge.” She looks up at me. “Mako just confirmed he’s set to accompany them on the flight over. He’s rounding up three more for the rotating watch.”
“Good.” I nod. “Make sure there are exact duplicates of everything ready for Willow so the transition isn’t as intense. And Roxy, let me know if there’s ever anything either of you need.” I quickly tap out a text to her number so she knows how to contact me.
For her part, Roxy remains silent. She glances between Bambi and me, and I’m getting the impression that she’s eating her earlier words. And the slap.
Good.
Because I don’t actually just sit around twiddling my thumbs while people fuck with my world and my own. I have a zero-tolerance policy for anyone laying hands on what’s mine.
Even if it takes me a minute to recover from a blip of stupidity.
“So… I’m just… gonna…” She motions with her thumbs that she’s headed toward Willow’s room, which is fine by me. There’s a lot to catch up on in terms of what the kid loves, what to bring with them, the kind of lifestyle she’s grown accustomed to.
Even if I fail to find Clara, I’m not going to fail Willow. She deserves the best in this world, the best in her life, and even if I can’t be by her side to give it, I’ll always make sure she has it.
Bambi doesn’t look up at me, but I still see that brow of hers do an elegant arch. “Does this mean we’re going to war?”
I don’t answer right away. Not because it’s a “no,” but because hearing it out loud adds a certain weight I haven’t been feeling until now.
If we do this, if I make good on my word to track down Clara and take my fury out on her captor, there’s a strong probability that it will result in full-on war with another Bratva, mafia, or hell—a small country, given Raizo’s extensive guest list.
And Raizo’s own involvement means war with the Yakuza is basically ensured. Whether he’s tangled up with my father on other shady business or not, I’ve got a bone to pick with him.
My sigh is heavy with the knowledge that answering yes to Bambi’s question means putting my men’s lives at stake. But, at the same time, I’ve quickly discovered that Clara Everett is worth burning the world to ash for.
And if Bambi’s expectant face, Pavel’s constant reports, and my Bratva’s overall morale is any indication, it seems like they wholeheartedly agree.
“Yeah.” I pull my phone from my pocket to call up Pavel’s number. “It does.”
Finally, Bambi lifts her face to give me the biggest grin I’ve seen in years. “It’s about damn time.”
51
DEMYEN
Pavel falls into step at my side the second I leave the office. “Glad you’re on the warpath, because you’re not gonna like what I found.”
I grit my teeth and remind myself—via my car keys biting into my palm—that there’s no one and nothing here worth beating to dust. Best reserve that energy for those who deserve it.
Like Oleg.
Like Raizo.
Like Martin.
Like Greg.
“Shoot.”
He blows out a puff of air and holds the garage side door open for me. “Oleg has been in the country for awhile. I’m talking at least a year, if not two whole years, doing God-knows-what in whichever back alley?—”
