Page 64 of Merciless Daddy

“Done.”

The line disconnected.

I set the phone down beside the whisky she had tasted.

On the other side of the penthouse, a door closed. Soft. Controlled. Yelena making a point without slamming anything.

I touched the knot of my tie where her fist had tightened it.

Seven hours.

Then the knife behind every yes she gave me would be gone.

After that, if she still wanted to test the boundaries of my patience, I would show her exactly how much patience I had.

And what happened when it finally ran out.

Maybe I was making a mistake. I desperately hoped not.

Chapter 8

Yelena

After midnight, the penthouse stopped pretending to be a home.

The lights went low. The lake turned black. Every locked door sounded louder. I had not slept. That was all Salvatore’s fault.

The conversation in his office kept returning in pieces. Daddy. Rules. Discipline. Aftercare. His voice asking what I wanted as if could even answer.

My body had reacted to every word. I also blamed him for that.

I sat curled into the corner of the sofa with a blanket over my legs and a book open in my lap. I had read the same paragraph nine times. Maybe on the tenth I could finally get through it. Olimpo slept against my feet, occasionally kicking in a dream.

Sal had shut himself in the office after our conversation. I had heard his low voice once through the wall. Then silence.

At twelve-seventeen, the private elevator chimed.

Olimpo’s head came up. So did mine.

Sal emerged from the office before the doors opened. His jacket was back on. His face had changed. Whatever man had discussed bedtime and spanking with me had been locked away. This was the one who moved cargo across borders and sent armed men into houses. The professional.

Tonio stepped out first, carrying two white catering jackets on hangers. Pietro followed with a mailing tube beneath one arm and a photograph in his hand. Cold air came with them. Tonio dropped the jackets across the dining table.

They looked shaken. Serious. Sal said, “Tonio. Explain.”

Tonio looked at me, deadly serious. “Yelena. We have an opportunity. But it’s dangerous. Let me ask you: how much are you willing to risk to get your brother out tonight?”

No greeting. No joke.

My body went cold in one clean sweep.

I stood. “What do you need me to do?”

Tonio and Pietro exchanged a look.

“Wait,” I backed away from the table. “If your plan is to call my father and offer me back in exchange for Kiryl, save your breath. He’ll take me and keep Kiryl. If it’s Gianni you plan to tempt, he’ll agree and shoot my brother anyway.”

“Yelena,” Sal said, shaking his head.