The Triad is a different beast altogether. They play by their own rules, answer to no one, and treat every other criminal organization like something stuck to the bottom of their shoe.
So why deal with us? Why offer Kostya a safe haven when they don’t have to?
Questions like that make my hackles rise, and not in a good way.
They want something. They always do. And the fact that Misha doesn’t sound even slightly concerned about their eagerness toassistus in our time of need tells me he already knows what they want, and he’s more than willing to pay the price for it.
The silence on the line says everything he won’t. If I want Misha to share his plans, I’m shit out of luck. He’s thePakhanfor a reason. He moves the chess pieces on the board, while the rest of us are expected to follow orders, hoping we’re not the ones being sacrificed for the greater good of theBratva. And though love and loyalty tie me to my brother, I’m not foolishenough to think he wouldn’t use me or any of my siblings to get what he wants.
“Well, tell me when his flight lands and I’ll roll out the red carpet. Maybe even make a little welcome sign.” I throw the joke out just to break the silence.
Of course, Misha doesn’t laugh. And that’s because Misha doesn’tdojokes. Not since Katya died. Not since our babushka passed. And definitely not since Elena got sick.
Speaking of which… “How’s Elena, by the way?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know how my sister-in-law’s holding up.
“As well as can be expected,” Misha says, his voice lower, heavier.
“But the doctors are hopeful, right? That’s what they said?”
“She’s fought this thing once before. She’ll fight it again.”
In other words, cancer had better be on its best behavior if it doesn’t want to deal with my brother’s wrath. Still, it’s a crueler enemy than any we’ve faced. It takes without reason, without mercy. And I’m not sure it really cares if Misha bares his teeth at it or not. Some monsters can’t be intimidated. They just keep taking… until there’s nothing left.
“Fair enough,” I say quietly, since adding anything more to that remark would be like stepping on a landmine I couldn’t walk away from.
“Any news on Kira’s whereabouts?” he asks then, shifting to the other reason for his call.
“Not yet. But I’m making preparations.”
“And bypreparations, you mean getting close to Romano’s daughter, I presume?” he asks, still sounding like he’s not entirely on board with my plan.
“Precisely.”
“And how do you intend to do that again?”
I open my mouth to tell him my plan, when a flash of flaming red hair cuts through the crowd, my smile widening when I see it moving straight toward me.
“Oh, brother,” I murmur, grinning. “I won’t have to do a thing. She’s the one who will end up seeking me out.”
“Made that much of an impression on her, did you?” Misha’s voice drips with skepticism.
“She just walked into the club, so you tell me.” I hang up, chuckling under my breath.
Timing’s everything, and Stella Romano has impeccable timing.
“Are you lost,milaya? I didn’t think you’d come looking for me so soon.”
“Funny,” she says, scowling as her gaze sweeps over the club, her nostrils flaring like the smell alone offends her.
“By the look on your face, I can tell you didn’t come for the show.” I lean back in my seat, arms stretched lazily across the backrest of the booth. “So what did you come for? Me, perhaps?”
“Don’t get cocky. It’s not a good look on you.”
“And whatwouldlook good on me?” My smile broadens. “Maybe you… on my lap?”
She glances at me from under her lashes, then laughs. “Oh, please. I’d never sit on any man’s lap, least of all yours.”
“Oh, I think before the night’s through, you’ll be singing a different tune.”
