I stare at him. Hard. “Yeah well they’re fucking with my inventory now.”
“Maybe we should get our own.”
I lean against the table, arms crossed, and breathe through my teeth. “You know I’m not doing this for the game, I don’t want to be like our brothers.”
Santi nods.
“Well,” I sigh. “At least they don’t know it’s us. They can fuck with Gabriel.”
Santi grins, half-relieved, half-worried. “Exactly what I said.”
Before I can answer, the back door creaks open.
Emir steps in, all shadow and silence. Still Gabriel’s right hand, but the only one who’s ever looked at me with something that almost passed for pity.
“Ayla,” he says, voice deep, unimpressed. “Your brother is pissed.”
I push off the table. “It wasn’t me this time. I barely got half my usual cut.”
He raises a brow, amused. “If he knew you were taking anything, he’d have you killed.”
I tilt my head. “Who’s gonna kill me? You?”
His eyes harden. “You gotta lay low, Ayla. He’s already in the middle of this shitstorm with Korsakov. This—” He gestures around the room. “—this little Robin Hood routine of yours is gonna blow up in your face.”
“That’s not my fight,” I say, teeth clenched. “That’s his problem. I’m just trying to get the fuck out of here.”
“You don’t have enough saved yet?”
I snort. “You know how I live, Emir. Ramen and roof leaks. I’m still working both jobs—the diner and cleaning for Mrs. Hardinoff… still not enough.”
He steps closer, voice low. “He’s sniffing around. He’s not stupid. If he finds out it’s you—”
“He won’t.”
His eyes flick to Santi, and something cold shifts in the air.
“Don’t look at him like that,” I snap. “He’s not—”
“I’ll go,” Santi says quickly, heading for the door.
“You don’t have to treat him like that,” I say once he’s gone.
Emir crosses his arms. “He’s a Sarkisian. You know what the fuck they’re doing right now?”
“Yeah. And Santi’s not part of that shit.”
Emir’s eyes narrow. “Korsakov is in an alliance with the Italians. If he finds out you’re involved in this, if he thinks you’re fucking with his supply line? You’re on your own. I can protect you from Gabriel. That’s it.”
“I don’t need protection,” I snap. “I’ve got this. I always have.”
His stare lingers. “Your brother wants to see you.”
My spine locks. “Don’t call him that.”
“That’s what he is, right?”
I shake my head slowly. “Gabriel has never wanted to be my brother.”
