Stefano gave a slight nod, wincing as he moved his body against the floor.
“Ivan’s orders do not override a plan set out for you by myself, and Capo Romano, do they, Stefano?” My father’s voice carried cool and calculated over the blood-stained concrete. He was sitting on a stool, watching everything that was happening. He looked satisfied—almost happy at the outcome.
“No, Mr. Vasiliev. Of course not. I assumed the orders came from—”
I cocked my foot back and kicked out, catching Stefano square in the stomach and making him gasp in pain and unable to finish his sentence. Ivan, even if it had been good intentions to impress my father, should not have circumvented the business plan. His eagerness to prove himself had almost ruined a multi-million-dollar venture.
“Son,” Father said, standing up and opening his arms to me as I strode towards him, leaving Stefano’s whimpering body behind me, “you could have let our security handle that,” he said, pulling me into an embrace, but we both knew he didn’t mean it. This was a test; to see if I was all talk in a fancy suit or if I was willing to get my hands dirty like he had done at my age.
“I thought a more personal message needed to be sent,” I replied firmly. “And I am not sure Stefano would have confessed anything to a regular soldier. It is his fear that loosened his tongue.”
Nikolai handed me my shirt and I slid it over my shoulders. My father reached a hand out to Nikolai and then pulled him into an embrace too.
“You are like a son to me,” he said with affection as he pulled away, “your father would have been proud.”
“Thank you, that means a lot,” Nikolai replied, and he meant it.
Nikolai’s own father had been killed many years ago when he was only a boy, and he’d always looked up to mine as a replacement. A guide, if you will, as to what he should aspire to be. And in return, my father brought him into our family’s fold, treating him with respect.
“This was good for both of you, I think,” my father continued, “you’re both growing up, and the time is coming for us older men to step back,” he laughed as we all walked.
“You’re hardly old, father,” I said, “sure, the grey is beginning to show, and the wrinkles are getting deeper, but you’re not old yet.” I smirked and my father looked aghast.
“These are hardly wrinkles, Son, these are worry lines from trying to keep you and your sister in line.” He said the words seriously but ended speaking on a thrum of low laughter. Even if we tried his nerves at times, there was no room to doubt that Father loved his family.
As we approached the exit, I turned to my father once more. Nik leaned against the wall, arms crossed and fingers flexing. They were bruised from beating Stefano.
“What are your thoughts on Ivan?” I tried to keep the question casual, showing that though Ivan had been loyal for years, long enough to be family and part of the fold, I held little emotion over his fate.
Though his fate…could change my future.
If he died, Marisha might be free. Though, she would be twice stained by scandal.
“Leave Ivan to me for now. Our eyes and ears are at work. And if he was truly trying to serve the best interests and impress me, then I will be lenient. Though, he must come to understand that his word means nothing against my command.” Father’s brow scrunched, perhaps thinking back to my Uncle and how recently it had been that he had to kill a betrayer. Someone who was close to him.
“As you wish, Father. But I am at your call, in whatever capacity you require when it comes to Ivan.” I wished I could kill Ivan just because he was a bastard, but there had to be a justification…had to be a way to appease my father in the fallout.
He nodded, and then we all stepped outside, the evening had enveloped us while we’d been in the warehouse, and I let my thoughts stray to Marisha and what she would be doing now. I wondered if I could go to the charity event and sneak her away. I could book a hotel. We could fuck and bathe, maybe I could order room service and champagne and I’d still have her home before Ivan realized. Ivan should be in long negotiations with the Italians now, trying to repair the damage, though now we knew the truth—that Ivan had started the issues to begin with.
“I tell you,” Father’s voice came to life again as we walked in the brisk air. “It is not just the worry lines that you children have cursed upon me. Indigestion and back pain, and the constant desire to stay at home with your mother and enjoy the finer things.”
“Yes, Katya is a wild one, isn’t she? Causing you so much grief over the years,” Nikolai was saying as I zoned back into the conversation, “she’ll make someone a fine wife one day.”
“She’s a pain in my ass,” my father replied with a sigh, “defiant, headstrong, and with a tongue fiercer than her mother’s. I pity the man that takes her hand,” he laughed and both Nikolai and I joined in.
We stopped beside my father’s car. I opened the door, but my father didn’t get in right away. Instead, he looked between Nikolai and me with a nod of approval, his features thoughtful.
“Truly, your mother tires of this life too, my son,” he finally said, his heart sounding heavy as he placed a hand on the top of my arm, “I fear she has my retirement already planned.”
“Fishing and golfing all day wouldn’t be so bad, would it? You just said you wished for the finer things,” I joked.
He slapped my arm and smiled. “This life takes its toll on a family, it’s true, but I don’t think fishing or golf would suit me, do you?” he laughed. “Now, if I had grandchildren to look after that would be a different story.”
He stared at me for a long minute, making sure that I got his meaning. I sighed and nodded. Time was running out. But how could I even think about meeting another woman and bedding her when my thoughts and time were taken up with Marisha?
Father got into his car and I closed the door. Moments later the window came down. “Are either of you two coming to the charity event tonight?”
“I was thinking of it, yes,” I said, already feeling Nikolai’s dirty look on the side of my face.
