"He doesn't. Not anymore." I'm certain of that. "They might have been protecting him, but after the embezzlement, after going rogue, he's on his own. The feds won't touch him now."
"Good. That makes him easier to kill." Saint sits forward. "Want me to handle it? I'm between projects. Could use the entertainment."
"No."
"Why not? I'm good at this. And you're too close to it. Might hesitate when it matters."
"I said no." My voice drops to ice. "He's family. Sort of."
Saint laughs. "Family? The man tried to sell your pregnant wife. That's not family."
"He's Seraphina's brother. That makes him complicated."
"Complicated." Saint shakes his head. "You've gone soft, Nero," he sneers. "That pretty little wife has made you weak."
My voice drops to ice. "Careful, Saint. You're marrying my sister in three months. I'd hate for something unfortunate to happen before then."
Saint doesn't flinch. Just grins. "Threats? How pedestrian."
"Not a threat. A promise."
"Enough!" Antonio's voice cracks like a whip. "Both ofyou. We have bigger problems than your dick-measuring contest."
I sit back down, imagining all the ways I could kill him. Then I remember Gemma. Remember that this asshole is going to be my brother-in-law. Remember that starting a war over his bullshit isn't worth it.
Saint looks almost disappointed.
He shouldn't be.
I just spared his life.
"Gabriel Romano is a problem for all of us," Antonio says, taking control of the room. "If he's hiring mercenaries, if he's planning something, we need to find him before he acts. Adrian, I'll have my people keep looking. They'll reach out to the mercenary networks, see who Gabriel contacted. Someone will talk—they always do when money's involved."
"How long?"
"A few days, maybe less. I'll call you the moment I have something solid."
"Make it sooner."
"I'm doing what I can." Antonio's expression hardens. "And Saint, you focus on the wedding preparations."
"Thrilling," Saint mutters.
"And if we find Gabriel, Adrian has first claim. Agreed?"
Saint shrugs. "Fine. But if he comes after any of us, all bets are off."
"Fair enough."
My phone rings. Unknown number.
I almost ignore it. Then I see the area code. Brooklyn.
Morozov territory.
"Excuse me." I step out of the office, answering. "What?"
"Adrian Nero." Alexei's voice is smooth, amused. "We need to talk. Now."
