After I’m sure Lennon is out cold, I return to my men.
Gunnar hands me a whiskey.
We didn’t get a chance to talk after the meeting because I was busy staying in contact with the team at Oleg’s house, making sure Lennon was handed over unharmed. Which, apparently those fuckers didn’t understand the instructions.
I sink into the sofa and massage my temple where the deep, steady pulse of pain keeps time with my heartbeat. Then I fill them in on the meeting with Oleg, including the offer he made of an alliance with his son and Giada to take over the Zerilli empire.
Rocco lifts his glass in a toast, his expression one of amusement. “That’s one way to get out of your marriage to Giada.”
There’s a collective chuckle around the room.
“And what about the trafficking?” Caelian asks.
I shrug. “Oleg says it will stop.”
Gunnar shakes his head, his mouth pinched with skepticism. “That’s a lot of money they’ll be giving up.”
“Not necessarily,” Caelian says. “I’m sure they’ll just double their efforts in Miami. That’s Chicago’s problem. Anyway, they believe the profit from Zerilli’s empire will more than compensate for it.”
“Aye, and this lets them keep their presence in Tampa,” Killian adds.
There’s a lull in the conversation, and then Caelian sighs. “I can’t wait to hear what New York has to say about this.”
I grab my phone off the smoked glass coffee table. “I’ll ask for a meeting ASAP.” I shoot a text to my father.
“What do you think, Sandro?” Gunnar asks. “Do you trust Oleg to keep his word?”
The Beast rumbles in discontent deep within the recesses of my psyche. It wants revenge for the hell they just put Lennon through.
I take a mouthful of whiskey and let it scorch a path into my gut. Then I make eye contact with each man in the room. Killian is the only one I’m not sure I can trust fully, but I’m willing to let him in for Lennon’s sake. She doesn’t have family left except for her cunt of an aunt. Well… and I guess a mob boss Daddy.
“What I think is Oleg Romanov miscalculated. The stunt they pulled cannot go unanswered. We take him down.”
“Fuck yeah,” Rocco says.
“That’s going to have to be a sanctioned hit,” Caelian says cautiously. “You’re talking about taking out a Captain. The Bratvawill see that as an act of war. Which New York specifically said they don’t want.”
I take another mouthful of whiskey and swallow. “I know. I have an idea. Let me sleep on it. I’ll call a meeting after I talk to New York. Right now, I need to get some sleep, so you fuckers need to go home.” I glance at Killian. He’s lost in thought, and I get a flash of the same concerned expression I’ve seen on Lennon’s face. “Killian, you can stay in a guest room here. Gunnar can show you the way.”
He scrubs a hand over his cropped hair and blows out a breath. “Aye. Thanks, mate.”
My bedroom is a welcome reprieve, dark and cool, with Lennon in my bed, still in the same position I left her. I undress down to my boxers and carefully lay down next to her.
She stirs, whimpering in her sleep.
I press my body against her back and wrap an arm around her, pulling her flush against me. Nuzzling her hair, I detect the faint scent of gasoline over her shampoo.
She mumbles something and chokes out a cry.
The Beast snarls and I tuck her in tighter against me. Yeah, that fucker will pay for the hell he put her through. But tonight, I have everything I need, right here in my arms.
Chapter 37
Lennon
As I gain consciousness, I feel Sandro’s presence like an invisible blanket. His arm heavy, possessive, draped over my waist, his breath fanning my cheek. I don’t move for fear it’s just a dream. I want to bask in it just a few seconds longer.
“Morning, Angel,” he croaks sleepily.
