The silence is broken only by the creak of Paolo’s shoes on the floorboards, restless, the sound loud in a room this tense.
Luca drops onto the couch next to Santino. I take the chair beside Lorenzo while Dario pulls an ottoman close to where Matteo’s standing. Everyone’s on edge, ready for trouble.
“What the fuck are we going to do about this?” Luca springs back to his feet, fists clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to hold onto his temper and failing. “These bastards targeted the family directly. We should hit back. Take out one of Kozlov’s kids, show him what happens when he fucks with us.”
“Who?” Paolo stops pacing, like he’s actually considering it.
“He’s got a son,” Santino says. “That would send a message.”
“Nikolai would be hard to reach,” Matteo chimes in. “He’s deep in the organization but doesn’t run any businesses. We’d have to get creative.”
“What about the daughter?” Paolo asks.
“Wait.” Dario’s voice cuts through the planning like a blade. “Let’s slow down. I get wanting revenge. What they tried to do pisses me off, too. But we shouldn’t go after his children immediately. We need to focus on defense first.”
“Seriously?” Luca stares at him like he’s lost his mind. “This bastard put hits on our whole family. You know Nico and Leone were on that list, right?”
Dario doesn’t rise to the bait. Just leans forward, elbows on his knees, gaze cutting sharper than any raised voice. “Of course I know. And I’ll tear Kozlov apart if I get the chance. But we need to be smart, not emotional.”
“I agree,” Lorenzo says, downing his whiskey in one swallow.
Luca throws his hands up. “I don’t understand why you don’t want revenge.”
“We do.” Lorenzo’s hands curl into fists on his thighs, and for a moment he looks every inch the killer he is. “But taking unnecessary risks gets people killed. Like the men who attacked me today.”
This is why Dario’s set to replace Lorenzo as don someday. It’s not just because he’s the oldest son. He has the right temperament. Luca’s always been too quick to anger, too ready to act without thinking.
“We need to increase security everywhere,” Dario says. “Will Miguel send more men?”
Lorenzo nods. “He’ll do anything to keep Mia safe.”
“We should call him today.” Dario turns to Matteo. “Viktor Ilyin was part of the group that hit us.”
Matteo goes rigid. Anger flashes in his eyes, and he takes a slow breath before answering. “Shame he survived.”
“I winged him,” Lorenzo says. “Took a chunk out of his leg, but the bastard got away.”
“You got beef with thatstronzo?” Paolo asks.
“He’s the one who shot Matteo three years ago,” I explain when Matteo doesn’t respond. Their rivalry goes back a decade, but that hospital stay really got under Matteo’s skin.
“He’s probably the connection between the Bratva and the MC,” Dario adds. “His cousin’s one of the bikers.”
The rage rolling off Matteo is almost tangible. We all hate the Bratva, and today’s attack made it personal for everyone. But for Matteo, this is deeper. Viktor’s been a thorn in his side for years.
“Keep your eyes open,” Lorenzo tells him. “If Viktor’s connected to the MC, you’re probably as much of a target as we are.” His gaze sweeps over the rest of us. “Other than that, we go about business as usual. Report any biker activity like you have been with the Bratva. Women and children stay here until Miguel sends reinforcements. Right now we gather intel, play defense, and plan. Nobody acts against the Bratva without direct provocation.”
His eyes linger on Luca during that last part.
“Don’t worry about me,” Luca says, pushing to his feet. “I’ll keep my head down like a good boy.”
He yanks the door open hard enough the frame rattles, then storms out. The meeting dissolves in his wake.
I get Luca’s frustration. It’s hard to sit on our hands when we want blood. The lack of outlet for all this anger is eating at me, too.
That feeling follows me as I drive to the strip club. There’s about an hour until we open, and the staff’s just arriving when I walk through the doors. I call everyone together for a quick meeting.
The dancers cluster on my right, servers and bartenders on the left. The bouncers line up behind everyone else like a wall of muscle.
