“We’re in agreement then,” Maxim says, looking at each of my brothers in turn. “Whether we kill your father or not is entirely your decision. However, you need to get me close to him. From there, I will do the rest.”
“We’re in agreement,” Enzo says. He approaches and holds out a hand.
Maxim steps forward. He reaches out and takes Enzo’s palm. They shake, both men staring into each other’s eyes.
“I’m glad we’re on the same side,” Maxim says.
“I am too. But I want to ask one thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“Make it quick. Don’t make him suffer.”
Maxim nods once. “It will be fast.”
“Good.” Enzo releases Maxim’s hand.
Maxim shakes with Santo and Franco in turn. “The deal is sealed,” Santo says, forcing a tight grin onto his lips. “Now I guess we just have to commit a little light patricide.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Franco says, and my three brothers walk off together.
“We’ll be in touch soon,” Enzo says over his shoulder.
“Two days,” Maxim replies. “I don’t have any longer. Two days and we make our move.”
Enzo nods and waves. I wave back and Maxim returns to my side.
We watch them walk away in silence. The quiet and comfort of the lake returns and I breathe fresh air deep into my lungs.
“It’s really happening.”
“Yes, it’s happening. I understand you have some complicated feelings about it and I can’t blame you.”
“He’s my father. Even after everything.”
“But you’re doing the right thing.”
“I know.” I lean my head on his shoulder and he hugs me close. “My brothers will be happier after it’s done. They’ll be safer. I just hope Enzo can forgive himself one day.”
“They’re stronger than you give them credit for. Now come, let’s get you back to the house. It’s been nearly two hours since I saw you naked, and I’m not sure I can go much longer.”
“You’re a pig,” I say, grinning as he steers me toward the parking lot.
Chapter 30
Maxim
Siena’s hand trembles in mine as we sit in my BMW at the edge of The Velvet Rope’s parking lot three days after our meeting with her brothers.
She doesn’t speak. I’m not sure she’s capable of talking right now, and I can’t blame her. Enzo set this up and told me what time to meet him. We’re here a few minutes early, but I’d rather be parked and prepared in case of something happening, although I can tell the wait’s driving Siena insane.
It’s one thing to want to kill your own father, and another to actually do it.
I try to imagine murdering my father. I try to picture putting a gun against his head and squeezing the trigger. Not in the abstract—actually murdering him in cold blood. I try to see it, but the image won’t come.
I’ve had countless reasons to want to kill my own father. From the borderline abusive training to the neglect to the impossible standards to the general coldness with which he treated me. A thousand reasons, and yet none seem good enough.
He’s still my father. Despite not being blood, he raised me. He taught me what it means to be a man and how I should function in this world. He helped give me purpose and he cared about me—in his own way. He saved me from being an orphan on the streets of Moscow when I was a little boy and my parents died.
But how he treated me pales in comparison to the Bastone family.
They’re a ruin. I saw it written all over Enzo at the park. He was a twitchy mess. The other brothers weren’t much better: Franco could barely raise his head and look at the world, and Santo grinned and grinned and joked to keep the pain at bay. They’re barely holding on.
Siena was right to want her father dead. That was my initial thought but I knew I couldn’t be the one to propose it. Coming from me, it would sound heinous. But coming from them? From the people that love their papa the most? It sounds like a mercy. A monstrous, terrible mercy.
I squeeze Siena’s hand and she smiles at me. “What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Just wondering how we got to this point. I remember when I was a little girl, Papa used to let me ride on his back like he was a horse. Enzo would run around, and I’d ride on Papa and chase after him. Those were good days.”
“Things were simpler when we were children. Our parents found it easier to love us.” I smile and lift her fingers to my lips. I kiss them, one by one. “I know it hurts. But it’s going to be better for your brothers. It’s hard for them to see it right now, but imagine how much stronger and happier they’ll be without your father wearing them down.”
“I know, and that’s why I’m going through with it. This is for them, not for me. If I had my way, we’d leave Dallas tomorrow and never look back.”