“And Ivan isn’t here,” I growl. “So who’s gonna stop me?”
I watch Mikhael’s throat bob against my weapon. He glances around, but no one looks like they’re gonna lift a finger to help him. “I’m s-sorry,” he stammers. “I misspoke.”
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry!” he yells. His trembling voice echoes off the walls. “I’m sorry,pakhan.”
I let him go with a scoff. “Fuck off. Now.”
For once in his life, he obeys.
Mikhael.He’s younger than me, despite his father being older than mine. When Uncle Grigoriy was murdered by the Danilos, my father took him in. Raised him with us. Taught him to respect Dimitri as his next leader.
He never taught him to respect me, though.
Which means I’ll have to teach him that lesson myself.
I raise my voice. “That—” I point at the body on the floor. “—is what happens when you cost me. And that,” I say again, pointing at the gunmouth mark burned into Mikhael’s throat, “is what happens when you disrespect me. Now, go find my fucking shipment, or the next one pissing himself in that chair will be one of you.”
No one says a word. Good.
“Dismissed.”
Everyone starts filing out. Only Lev remains behind.
When it’s just me and him, I slump against the wall. “Fucking Mikh.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Fucking Mikh.”
“Thatmudakis gonna make me put a bullet in his brain.”
“He sure is working hard for it.” Lev frowns. “Why was he sniffing you?” My glare silences him. “Never mind.”
Despite everything, I can’t chase Mikhael’s words out of my mind. He’s been accusing me for a while of being distracted, of not having the best interests of our Bratva at heart.
The day the shipment went missing, I was with Sima.
Tonight, I was with Sima.
Whether I like it or not, he has a fucking point.
I can’t keep letting Sima distract me from the finish line. Getting an heir is important, but if I knock her up right before my men rise up against me, what good is that gonna do for me?
Heirs are tomorrow’s game. This? Our missing shipment, securing the alliance with the Italians, fending off the Danilos? It’stoday’sfucking game.
And I’m not losing it. Not for anything, not for anyone.
Certainly not for Nikolai Danilo’s goddamn daughter.
30
SIMA
The next day, I can’t stop blushing.
I want to play it cool. Be worldly about this.Yeah, a stranger-slash-the sworn-enemy-of-my-family rocked my world last night. So what?
Turns out, there’s a whole lot of “what.” Like the fact that my traitor face keeps giving me away. Every time my brain decides to replay last night like some shameless highlight reel, my skin heats up like a hot plate. And since the images keep flashing, so do my traffic light cheeks.
