“It must be someone who wantsyouout of the way as well as us,” Mikhail told me, scratching the head of one of his dogs. His eyes hadn’t left me for a second. “Who—other than us—were you investigating?”
I hesitated for a second. Spilling who the FBI was looking into broke all the rules. But they were trusting me: I had to trust them. “Two families,” I told them. “The Cantellis and the O'Donnells.”
Gennadiy slammed a fist down on the table hard enough to make everyone jump. “Blyat’! The fucking Irish!”
Radimir planted his elbows on the table and cupped one fist in his hand. “It’s not the Irish,” he said firmly.
“Of course it’s the Irish!” snapped Gennadiy. “We played nice with them, and now they think they can take over!”
“Finn O'Donnell has a lot of men,” said Valentin quietly, “and he doesn’t do half measures. If we accuse him of this, it’ll mean a fight.”
Gennadiy scowled. “Fine by me!”
“We have a deal with the Irish,” Radimir said tightly. “It isn’t them.”
“We should never have made that deal!” Gennadiy yelled.
The room went silent. The two men glared at each other for three, four seconds before Gennadiy dropped his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, brother.”
I could feel the depth of the love between the two of them, but I could feel the hierarchy in the family, too, and I tried to learn from it.Never forget who the boss is. Got it.
“Given that we know accusing the Irish won’t end well, maybe it makes sense to eliminate the other possibility first?” Bronwyn’s voice was like a gentle summer breeze, and the tension at the table eased. Radimir and Valentin both nodded.
“That makes sense,” said Mikhail. But he was still studying me.
Gennadiy shook his head sulkily. “Deal with Emanuela?” He sighed and rubbed at his stubble. “I—Alright. Yes. It’s a good suggestion. We’ll go see the Italians first.”
The meeting broke up. Gennadiy hurried off to make arrangements for the Cantelli meet, already talking into his phone. Radimir and Bronwyn strolled out to the gardens, his arm around her waist. Valentin slipped away before I was aware of it. That left Mikhail watching me from across the table. His four dogs mimicked him, and it would have been funny if I didn’t know how many people he’d killed over the years. I swallowed and sat up straight, refusing to be intimidated. “Something on your mind?”
“I am concerned for my nephew.” Where the other Aristov’svoices were silver and ice, Mikhail’s Russian accent reminded me of smooth, warming whiskey. “Gennadiy has a particular hatred of your kind. Police. The FBI. Thesystem.”
A particular hatred? Why is that,I wondered.
“For him to overcome that hatred,” said Mikhail, “I think something even more powerful must be at work.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “There’s nothing between us.” I looked away. “He’s made that painfully clear.”
Mikhail gave a long-suffering sigh and rose from the table. “That,” he said, “is even more concerning.”
He started walking away, his dogs falling in beside him.
I frowned. “You’re worried because he doesn’t like me?”
“No,” Mikhail said without looking back. “Because he cares enough about you to lie to you.”
29
ALISON
I was still sitting there,processing that, when Gennadiy walked back in, brooding and scowly. As he slipped his phone into his pocket, his shirt drew tight over the hard slab of one pec, and I flashed back to the warm press of him when we’d kissed.
“What?” he asked, frowning at my expression.
I looked down at my coffee, my heart suddenly racing. “Nothing. Any luck getting a meet with the Cantellis?”
“We’re meeting Emanuela Cantelli in an hour.”
I looked up in shock. Emanuela was the most powerful Italian boss in the city...but apparently, when the Aristovs spoke, even she listened. I accidentally met Gennadiy’s eyes, and suddenly I was falling upwards into gray so breathtakingly cold, it made my spine prickle. But the longer he looked at me, the more the gray ice seemed to change, fracturing and heating until it was like silvery, molten metal.
