“Jerk,” Aleksandra mutters under her breath.
Does she think that I didn’t hear her?
I ignore her remark and open the door, leading her and the twins inside.
“Come with me,” I say and lead them up the back stairwell to the third floor.
“Planning on locking us up in your dungeon?” Aleksandra grumbles loud enough for me to hear.
“No, that’s down in the basement. I could give you a tour sometime,” I say with a smirk.
The little ones follow us up the stairs, and I escort them to a bedroom with two twin beds. “There’s an adjoining room through there.” I point to the wooden door between the rooms and open it to allow Aleksandra a glance into her bedroom.
“Stay here,” she tells the twins and shuts the door behind me, leaving the two of us in her bedroom.
A wry grin tugs at my lips. “Couldn’t wait to get me alone?” I tease.
Aleksandra rolls her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing? How long do you intend on us staying with you?”
“As long as necessary,” I say. “Mikhail is a dangerous man.”
She scoffs at my remark. “And you’re not? He’s my brother. He’d never hurt the kids or me.”
“No, he’d only hurt other people’s children. Do you know he’s involved in attacking the Breckenridge compound? He ordered the bratva to threaten Nova, a six-year-old girl, the daughter of Moreno, the Italian’s second in command.”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Aleksandra shakes her head in disbelief. “Besides, Breckenridge is on the other side of the country. The bratva doesn’t control that territory.”
“Don’t they?” I ask. She knows that there are other bratva groups in different cities. They may not be as organized as the Italian mafia, but they are more than capable of working together, especially when wanting control over a city.
“Your brother also ordered a hit on Luca Ricci, the son of mob boss Dante Ricci.”
“Enough!” She takes several strides, moving farther away, keeping her distance. “It’s all lies. I don’t believe you.”
“Then hear it for yourself from the families and their children. They’re on their way here right now,” I say.
“The children are coming too?” Her breath catches in her throat.
The color drains from her cheeks as though she’s seen a ghost.
“What is it?” I ask. There’s an urgency in my tone, and when she doesn’t answer, I step closer, invading her personal space. My hands fall to her shoulders. “Tell me what you know.”
Her lips part, and a soft puff of air expels past the ruby red. “Not much. The guard who was on duty dropped me off at the preschool because he had to deal with the Italians.”
“Did you hear anything else?” I need to know which caravan they intend to attack. Three planes coming from three different cities: Los Angeles, Chicago, and Breckenridge. They were all due to arrive at different times but at the same regional airport.
I release my grip on Aleksandra, but I don’t give her any farther space between us. There’s an urgency to the closeness. I need answers.
“No, just that Nikita, my guard, was in a hurry. I had to practically beg him to drop me off at the preschool first.”
I run my fingers along my jaw. I’ve already contacted Ardian and warned him with what little information I had while in the vehicle. “Stay here.” I head out the main entrance of her room and lock the door behind myself.
I step down the hall, secure the twins’ bedroom as well, and pull out my phone. I need to find out what’s going on at the pickup site.
Are my men in danger?
Can I still warn them before Nikita and the other members of the bratva show up for a fight?
With Aleksandra locked in the bedroom upstairs, I don’t have to worry about her escaping or causing trouble. There’s no phone in either room, and it’s too high for her to escape out the window.