Kian’s Office
“Sit still, boss,” Dr. Callum tells me. “I’m going to need to put a few stitches in.”
“Stitches, huh?” Phoenix remarks in a tone that suggests he’s trying not to laugh. “She got you good.”
“Sit the fuck down, you little shit,” I growl at him. “Or you’ll be the one who needs stitches.”
Phoenix chuckles lightly and takes the seat opposite mine. My eyebrow feels much better now that the doctor’s cleaned it up. The stinging pain comes in waves, but it’s easy to ignore. Especially in light of the new shitshow I’m left to deal with after my botched assassination on the Lombardi fucker. This was supposed to be an easy mark. How did I screw it up so goddamn badly?
“Almost done, sir,” Dr. Callum tells me. “Only two stiches. They’ll dissolve on their own in a few days.”
He puts the finishing touches on the stitches and then he’s done. He starts putting back his supplies into the medical briefcase sitting on my desk. “You need me to look at anything else?”
“No.”
“How are your knees?” he asks.
“Good as new.”
Phoenix looks at me with interest. “Old man knees acting up on you?”
“Old injury,” I explain. “I got it fighting wars, back when you were still walking around in diapers.”
His expression twists a little. He hates when I bring up old memories, and he especially hates when I remind him that I was deep in this business when he was nothing but a little rug rat.
Tough shit. It’s important to keep these mafia kids humble. God knows the men of the Kovalyov Bratva are not lacking in the ego department.
The doctor finishes packing his supplies away and turns to me with a respectful nod of his head. I dismiss him with a wave and he backs out of my office. The moment we’re alone, Phoenix’s expression turns businesslike. “Where is she?”
“Locked up in one of the guest bedrooms,” I growl. “She’s turned out to be a fuck-ton more trouble than I’d anticipated.”
“So why bring her back here?”
That’s a good fucking question. There are several answers to that. I go with the most plausible one. “Because I didn’t want to leave a body at that house. It’s on the cops’ radar now,” I tell him reasonably. “And anyway, she might come in handy.”
Phoenix frowns. “How?”
“She’s Lombardi’s sister,” I point out. “Could be a useful bargaining chip.”
“True. But what if Lombardi isn’t willing to come to the table, even with his sister’s life hanging in the balance?”
“Then I kill her.” The words leave a strange aftertaste.
“Will you?” Phoenix asks with an odd expression.
I squint at him. “What are you implying?”
Phoenix chuckles, unfazed. “That she’s hot,” he says bluntly.
“You forget I’m not a twenty-year-old kid who’s ruled by his hormones.”
“Yeah? Could have fooled me, the way you were looking at her.”
I cock my head to the side. “I miss the days when you were crawling around shitting your pants.”
Phoenix glares, but I can tell he’s enjoying getting a rise out of me. Little shit’s exactly like his father. “Am I wrong?” he presses.
“She’s nothing more than an inconvenience.”