She already knew the answer. If I had to guess, I’d say she was determining how much I’d learned about her. “I guess that’s what you’re going to share with me, angel. How much information did you glean about the Adamos crime syndicate? And how much did you share with the cops?”
“God, I fucking hate you,” she half whispered, her voice harsh.
She was fire and brimstone one minute, a terrified kitten the next. Her goddamn doe eyes called to me even in the flashing lights jetting by the windows of the car. A part of me wanted to protect her, holding her close. The other was the reality of the man I was, a cold-blooded killer who needed to make her suffer for lying to me.
“I think we’ve already established that,” I huffed, my anger past the point of handling. “Now, put your seatbelt on, Cassidy. If I need to do it for you, I’ll take that opportunity to tie you to the seat.”
Her hard glare continued but she did as I asked.
“What happened back there?” she asked. “You killed those men, didn’t you?”
“Delving into my world isn’t in your best interest. You won’t like the answers.”
“I know who and what you are, Valentin. I know all about your family. You’ve abducted me. I think I deserve some answers.”
I leaned over, placing my hand on her knee and squeezing. “I just saved your life. I think you should try to realize that.”
Recoiling, she managed to jerk my hand away, returning her attention out the windshield. “You promise you aren’t going to hurt my friends?”
“As I already told you, as long as they cooperate, they will be just fine.”
“And what are you going to tell them about where I’ve gone?” she demanded, taking gasping breaths.
“Nothing. They will be told nothing but you’re safe.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s necessary.” I shot another look into the rearview mirror, remaining on edge. The game being played was interesting. I kept my weapon between my legs, yanking out my phone and dialing my father. It was his responsibility to find out if the fucking Russians betrayed us.
My father, Cesare Vincheti, was a formidable man capable of doing heinous things. The fact he’d lost his edge had driven a wedge between us. Whatever happened, my sister would be protected, or I’d kill the man myself. I made the call, although the last thing I wanted at this point was to talk to him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Keeping the peace. Russians invaded the club. I need to know if Vladimir is behind it.” The Pakhan of the Kozlov family fed off the conflict the two families had started over the years, acting as if he was the far superior leader. I was eager to bring the man and his entire family to their knees.
I’d bide my time as required by the contract the two mafia leaders had entered into. However, I’d already decided that if Vladimir or one of his fucking sons had switched loyalties to the Poles, I would have their heads on pikes.
He laughed. “He wouldn’t dare. He knows the cost. I’ll bring the full wrath of the Vincheti family down on him.”
“You had your chance, Pops. You failed. Find out the truth before this shit gets out of hand.”
“I suggest you remember your manners, son. While your mother would never forgive me, I could easily sign your death warrant.”
Well, maybe the old man had a spine after all. I hesitated, gritting my teeth. “The family feud needs to wait, Pops. Niccolo could be dead.”
The silence was as I’d expected. Niccolo had always been the favorite son, a kid who’d never done wrong in the man’s eyes.
“What the fuck did you do?” he managed, his voice shaking.
“An explosion at The Raven.”
He cursed in Italian, the words of pain expressed some I’d never heard before. When he spoke, his voice was even more broken. “His death will be on your head.”
“No, Father. It’s likely on yours.”
There was no need for further discussion, no concept of allowing my father to get the upper hand. His time was finished.
I shoved the phone into my pocket, making several turns, heading away from the heart of the city. I’d spent millions on securing the airstrip, the private planes owned by the family in hangars manned twenty-four hours a day. A hit on the location would cost us dearly.