Ivan, who was already blond and more than a little pale, went slightly gray around the edges. He swallowed roughly and turned to Lennon. “Such a photo doesn’t exist. Riordan doesn’t even have knees. New topic.”
Riordan chuckled while Lennon began teasing Ivan about something called aprom-posal. “That ought to keep them busy for a while,” he said with an impish grin. I cackled like a witch as Riordan told me all about his and Ivan’s senior formal dance, what Ivan wore, and the hilarious shit they got up to that night. My cousin wasn’t a dum-dum, though. He made me pinky swear not to repeat the story while we were in the elevator. Bob, I wish he hadn’t, though, because Lennon would die laughing if I could tell her. Alas, a promise is a promise.
Our smiles and easy laughter died the moment we entered my uncle’s office and saw the look on his face. Mikhail’s wiry black hair, peppered through with silver, was swept back and styled away from his face. His beard was neatly trimmed close to his sharp jaw. Dark and thick brows sat heavily over his stormy-green eyes, but they warmed slightly at the sight of my cousin and me. Mikhail rose from his seat behind an imposing wooden desk and circled around, buttoning his suit jacket as he went. He pulled Riordan into what looked like a hug disguised as a handshake, where one hand clasped his son’s, and the other pulled him into a quick embrace. My uncle turned to me next and opened his arms for a hug, waiting to see if I’d accept it.
Grateful for the choice, I decided to go with my gut instinct. You’d think, given my experiences I’ve had with “uncles” in the past, I’d give the mob boss finger guns in return in the best case, andactualguns in the worst case. But nope! Apparently, my tummy was all in. It was telling me that Mikhail might be a bad guy, but he wasn’t abad guy. No warning bells sounded as I tentatively stepped into his offered embrace, and he gently hugged me, as though I were something precious. The hug was short, two or three heartbeats at most, but those few moments made my brain hum in contentment. The care he took when handling me was sweet, and if I didn’t think it might offend the big badpakhan,I’d tell him that to his face.
Mikhail gestured for me to sit and leaned back against his desk. “There’s no delicate way to say this, so I’m going to be blunt and speakto you now, Indigo, the way I speak to my son. I’ve contacted the Callahans, demanding a meeting with Seamus so I can formally declare war on the Irish for the almost certain murder of my sister and the mistreatment of my niece at his brother’s hands. The coward refuses to meet in person, but he’s agreed to a video conference.” Mikhail licked his lips and continued. “I want you to be there with me when he calls, Indigo.”
Riordan shifted a bit in his seat, but he didn’t say anything at his father’s words. “Why would you want me there?” I asked. “I didn’t see Seamus all that often, so it’s not like he’s gonna want to catch up on watercooler gossip with me.”
“I believe that my sister must have been Roark’s prisoner when we all thought she’d gone missing. They had to keep her around long enough to give birth to you, at the very least. If Tatiana had escaped somehow, she’d have found a way to come home to us by now.” My uncle swallowed a grimace, fighting not to let me see how much he still grieved for his sister. “Regardless, you are living proof of Roark’s monstrosity, and you alone can place Gregor with Roark and The Consortium. Seamus may not know what his little brother is planning, but ignorance won’t save him now. I’m going to wipe them off the map and watch as their petty empire burns to ash.”
My mind drifted to Priest, who’d never gotten the satisfaction of watching his sister’s killer’s world burn. I didn’t regret killing Hoodie Guy since it was literally him or me. I’d kill him again if I could, only this time I’d make it last longer so the poopy-head could really suffer. I couldn’t go back in time and help Priest get brotherly vengeance, but Icouldhelp Mikhail. It was just a video call. Seamus couldn’t hurt me, and I felt safe(ish) here in Nevada with my new family. I could do this. What was the worst that could happen?
Chapter 26
Indigo
Acid burned my throat as I heaved into the toilet, violent spasms causing my abdomen to clench. Uncle Roark wasn’t even in the same state, but he’d already managed to bring me to my fucking knees. It hadn’t even been hard for him. I felt pathetic, weak, and utterly humiliated. All it had taken to strip my sense of self away and put me right back in my place was Roark casually exposing my deepest, darkest, most shameful hurt to my new family. I never thought I’d get to a place in life where my secret would matter to anyone but me. I didn’t have that kind of hope in me back then. Now? For the first time in my life, I’d started to see a future for myself, a home, and maybe even a certain growly, grumpy biker to love. I should have known better.
Turns out, the worst that could happen was pretty damn bad.
Mikhail and Riordan led me to a conference room, one of only three rooms on this level of The Goldfinch. Riordan’s home in Nevada was in the penthouse, but the floor below it was also solely used by the Petrov family members. It housed a second, smaller suite for special guests, an office, and a conference room. It wasn’t like the church room back in the clubhouse. That room was built for simple efficiency. A long table, chairs, and a bar cart… that was about all there was to it.
This room screamed luxury. The wall opposite the door was made up entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, the Sierra Nevada fading from view as Riordan activated something that tinted the windows dark. Fancy. A very executive, “important dude” table ran through the room with chairs spaced evenly and tucked neatly under the table. The far wall was almost entirely made up of a giant glass screen, except for a few feet containing a door that Riordan said was to the en suite bathroom. It was a modern, minimalist room that made other rooms feel inadequate and bad at business things and money stuff. It was a room that said,the only thing bigger than my bank account balance is my dick, but in a classy, refined way. Maybe with a foreign accent.
With a few taps from a tablet Riordan had taken from the office, the screen wall lit up and a video conferencing app began loading. We sat down, Mikhail at the head of the table farthest from the screen, Riordan at his right hand, and I sat to his left. I had only gotten to swivel around in a circle a few times in what had to be the world’s plushest, most disgustingly comfortable office chair on the face of the planet when Seamus’s call came through. I swallowed roughly and stopped spinning, my smile fading from my lips. I was nervous but didn’t want Mikhail or Riordan to know it.
“Chin up,dorogoya. You are entitled to feel how you feel, but you must never let them see it. Guard your emotions because the moment anyone outside your trusted few senses a weakness, they will exploit it. Don’t hand your enemies the tools they need to destroy you.” Mikhail, the man I was getting to know as my uncle, wasn’t home anymore. Sitting next to me while the call waited to be connected was thepakhan. His expression had been wiped clean, and I didn’t recognize the man peeking out of green eyes that had gone flat and foreign. He sat in his chair, which was comfy and swirly just like mine, like it was a throne. I wish I knew how he did that, because I was pretty sure I still looked like a chick who wandered in off the street and was considering grand theft chair…not a queen on her office throne.
My cousin mimicked his father, his expression blank save for a hint of arrogant boredom. Riordan’s mob mask was interesting to see. It kind of reminded me of the way he looked when he spoke to Astrid… hmm. What was that about? I folded that thought up into a tidy little square and put it in a pocket in my mind, to be examined later when I had attention to spare. I focused on my breathing and schooled my face into the most “restful bitch that ever bitched bitchily” mask. Mikhail gave me a nod, and Riordan connected the call.
Seamus Callahan, boss of the Callahan crime family, filled the screen. He was built like a linebacker…if that linebacker had gone out to seed and completely let himself go. Seamus was seated behind a table of his own, his jowly face ruddy and his mousey brown hair thinning a bit on top. A glass of whiskey made a brief appearance as Seamus took a sip. “What is it ye want, Mikhail? I don’t appreciate being summoned.” His words carried the edge of an Irish lilt, having spent much of his life going back and forth between Ireland and the US before he became the boss. He had the ghost of an accent, like his tongue had murdered the Irish brogue and now its spirit haunted his mouth.
“And I don’t appreciate being lied to,” Mikhail stated in a frosty tone. “The existence of my niece and her imprisonment for over two decades seems to indicate that you know more than you’ve said about my sister’s disappearance.”
Seamus brushed off one of his sleeves, appearing bored. “I fail to see how that is any of my business. When Tatiana ran off, she disrespectedmy brother, and she disrespected me. Frankly, I don’t care if the whore is dead or alive, and I have no knowledge of her having a bastard. Your family drama doesn’t concern the Callahans.”
Mikhail didn’t even blink at Seamus’s words, but Riordan spoke up in a tight tone. “If you didn’t have anything to do with her child, why was she raised in your backyard by your brother? Are you saying that you’re so grossly incompetent and oblivious that you didn’t know Roark Callahan had my cousin in his basement for over twenty years?”
“You may feel like a big man sittin’ next to your daddy, but nephew or no, I’ll no’ tolerate disrespect, lad.” Seamus’s words were stern, but his expression looked vaguely nervous. Like the kind of face someone had when they started to feel a rumbling in their tummy, so they began to look around to see if there was a bathroom nearby…and there wasn’t. I called that “post-dumpster curry face.”
“Interesting,” Mikhail mused, though he didn’t lookinterestedin what Seamus was saying. His stoic and cold mob boss mask was firmly in place. “It seems we have a slightly different opinion on what constitutes disrespect. From where I’m sitting, disrespect looks like covering up the disappearance of my sister. Disrespect is ‘helping’ us search for her while you knew what really happened to her. It’s disrespectful to abuse my flesh and blood while profiting from the alliance with my bratva. Disrespect is having our name in your mouth when you barter with other organizations, using clout you didn’t earn and have no right to.”
Seamus’s big, bad mob boss mask remained in place, but the resolution on the fancy wall screen was so good we could all see sweat beading on his brow. If I had a tape measure, it’d be fun to measure how large his sweat drops appeared on the HD screen.
“The terms of our alliance—”
“?were null and void the moment Tatiana’s child came to me littered in scars from abuse at your hands.” Mikhail interrupted. “We may have needed an alliance with you at one time, but this arrangement no longer serves our interests. The Petrov bratva will hereby sever any and all business arrangements with the Callahan family. Any Callahan found in a bratva-owned business will be sent home to you in pieces, and I will be making it my life’s work to dismantle your paltry fiefdom. TheComhairle na Naoiwill be informed of your treachery, so don’t go crying to your brethren for aid. I highly doubt the other Irish families will thank you for drawing them into a war with the might of the American bratva.”
Yeah, Seamus was definitely sweating bullets now. “Let’s not be hasty. Surely, amends can be made. We have both profited from our arrangement and can make even more in the future. What can be done to make this right?” My resting bitch mask slipped a teeny bit at his words as I sneered in disgust.
“Pakhan,” Riordan said in a conciliatory tone, “maybe my uncle has a point. If he’d like to make amends, we should at least hear him out. How would you make this right, Callahan?” I turned a shocked face to Riordan, the cold snake of betrayal coiling in my gut. I couldn’t believe that Riordan claimed kinship with that asshole after acting like he hated the entire Callahan clan with the exception of his mother.
“What the fuck?” I asked him in a harsh whisper, kicking him hard under the table. Mikhail inclined his head and gave Seamus a shrewd look, ignoring me completely.
“We can renegotiate our treaty, giving you more favorable terms and reduce the cut we take from your imports coming through Boston, Eastport, and Halifax,” Seamus added in an eager voice.
