I turn to stare at Marco, ice flowing through my veins. “What?”
“This bastard really did try to kill me,” Dante snaps.
“Fuck it, Dante,” Marco says, his usual charm evaporating. “I told you we needed to take care of the Russians, but I knew it was a dead mission with you. I knew you would never stop obsessing over her and your father being together.”
Boris’s men spread throughout the study, blocking all exits. “Emotional family drama is touching, but we have practical matters to resolve. The money laundering operation must resume immediately.”
“What do you want?” Alaric asks, his hand still hovering near his weapon.
“Continuation of existing arrangements. Mrs. Moretti signs whatever documents we provide, operations resume normal schedule, everyone profits from a stable business relationship.”
“I’m not signing anything,” I say.
“Then you will die, and we will forge your signature. Either way, business continues.”
“The shell companies belong to me since I’m alive,” Dante points out.
“Dante Moretti is officially dead,” Boris replies. “Very difficult to conduct business as a dead man. We prefer working with living partners.”
“Meaning me,” I realize with growing horror.
“Meaning you. Whether willingly or under coercion, you will resume your role as face of our operations.”
“She’s not resuming anything,” Alaric snarls.
Boris shrugs. “Then the entire family dies, and we find new arrangements. Russians are practical people.”
The study crackles with tension as weapons appear in hands around the room. Marco pulls out a gun, though I can’t tell whose side he’s on anymore.
“This is how it ends?” I ask, my hand protectively covering my belly. “Everyone is fighting over who gets to control me?”
“This is how it begins,” Boris corrects. “New phase of business relationship with better management structure.”
Dante and Alaric exchange a look that carries years of complicated history. Despite everything between them, they’re still family facing a common enemy.
“Marco,” Dante says quietly. “You made one mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“You forgot that I learned to survive from the best teacher in the business.”
“Your father didn’t teach you everything, cousin.”
“No. But he taught me enough.”
The air in the room shifts as three different factions prepare for war. Russian killers, a betraying family member, and two Moretti men who might hate each other but hate outsiders more.
My unborn child kicks restlessly, as if sensing the violence about to explode around us.
The sanctuary we thought we’d built has become a battlefield where everyone wants to claim ownership of my future.
And I’m tired of being property to be divided between monsters.
47
ALARIC
“We can resolvethis in a civilized manner,” I tell Boris as we move from the study to the main hall. “Business disagreements don’t require bloodshed.”
