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My eyes well up with tears, but I blink them away. I’ve cried more in twenty-four hours than I have in years. Which is annoying because I’m made of much stronger stuff than that.
“Lena, your heart is in the right place and I understand your motivations, but I just need to be sure you’re thinking clearly. You’re going to hide this man’s baby for an entire year. Roman might not forgive you for that.”
I clench my jaw. “He already hates me anyway.”
“Don’t say that. He doesn’t. I know he doesn’t. He can’t. Because the two of you are going to become parents and even if he doesn’t know it, you’re a permanent fixture in his life from now on.”
My heart hurts to hear that statement but I can’t think of that right now. I can’t think of anything but what’s presently in my path. My relationship with Roman and our parenting issues will have to wait.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say.
“Alright,” Kiara breathes. “I guess we’re moving to London. There’s just one important question I have to ask.”
“Which is?”
She grins. “How was the sex?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” I ask, even though I’m fighting back a smile of my own.
For the first time since I found out I was pregnant, I can breathe easier. I have my best friend. I have a plan. I’ll be okay.
CHAPTER14
Roman
Iwatch as Tony stabs a screwdriver into the man’s palm. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Michael wince. He’s never really liked torture, preferring to kill someone and be done with it.
I, on the other hand, revel in sounds that fill the air. Once I’m satisfied he has suffered enough, I ask Tony to stop. He does so immediately, turning to face me. His hands are covered in blood and there’s even some on his face. And despite it all, he manages to smile. Elena’s always calling me a psychopath, but honestly, her brother is more deserving of the title.
Thoughts of Elena have me clenching my teeth and I hurriedly banish them, unwilling to even think about her at a time like this. I walk toward the man in the torture chair. His brown hair is matted with blood. Every visible surface of his body is a clear sign of how much he’s torture he’s had to endure. His blue eyes are half-closed. He looks dead, but he’s not. Not yet.
He deserves it. If not for anything but the number of lives that were lost because he poked a hornets’ nest. Carman Gallo is forty years old and the former boss of the Gallo family. Former, because they don’t exist anymore.
I’m surprised when he manages to raise his head, looking me in the eye.
“Please,” he croaks. “Mercy.”
“How many times do I have to fucking say it?” I mutter. “Mercy’s a foreign concept. It doesn’t exist to me anymore. I can offer you no mercy, but be glad for the fact that your wife and children will be safe.” I can do that much.
He nods once before hanging his head. Not wanting to drag it out anymore, I grab my gun and shoot. He dies instantaneously. And then there were four. With the Gallos exterminated, there are only four prominent mafia families in New York. I’m sure another organization will crawl up in their place, another family of mobsters hoping to make a name for themselves. But for now, I’ve won a war.
I turn around to face my men. Christian D’Angelo is in the room, too. He’s wearing a crisp navy suit, arms crossed, and when I look at him, I can tell he’s impressed. Michael looks relieved and Tony, the idiot, begins a slow clap.
He makes an explosion sound. “And boom go the Gallos.”
I sigh, ignoring him and moving toward Christian. I would have never been able to pull this off without him. He’s been a great help these past few weeks, helping to gather intel and assisting in whatever way he could with the war. Now that it’s over, I’m not sure how to repay him.
He must see it on my face because he smiles. “Consider it a favor for a friend.”
“There aren’t any free favors,” I say gruffly. “Not in our world.”
Although it’s true that he and I have grown closer over the past month, grabbing drinks together and having a few conversations in between talking strategy.
He shrugs. “True. Maybe you’ll get your chance to repay me in the future.”
I nod once. “Thank you.”
“Although I do require something from you,” he states.
