Page List


Font:  

Who am I kidding? The lump never left. I just learned how to ignore it.

Like I ignore everything with my brother. “This is complicated family stuff, Willow. You can’t just waltz into a police station and tell them all these things.”

“Fucking watch me, girl.”

From somewhere deep within my soul erupts the most powerful tone I’ve ever used in my life—and it scares me when I use it on my best friend: “Willow.”

But it works. She shuts up.

For now.

“Let me explain what my brother told me,” I offer in a gentler tone. “And I need you to stop freaking out for a minute, okay? This is important.”

She takes a breath and says with a sigh, “Okay.”

Though I know I’m alone, I check the room anyway. Viktoria is tending to the penthouse while Pavel is somewhere within the building with his brigadiers. I’m lucky I have space to myself.

Hand to God, I’m lucky Pavel has allowed me to keep my phone. I’m not sure what I’d do without being able to talk to Willow. I’m sure there’s a laptop around here somewhere, but it’s nice to have my own device.

One that isn’t being potentially monitored.

“Our father used to be the head of the Citta Nostra Mafia until he was betrayed and murdered by one of his caporegimes nineteen years ago,” I repeat. “A man named Felix Cardona.”

Concern flows from her voice as she says, “Liya, that’s awful.”

“That was the least of our worries. We were fortunate to have loyal caporegimes who took Jonas and me away so we weren’t slaughtered.”

“Jesus.”

My perspective shifts as I recall the terrifying confusion, the sleepless nights, the endless running. What kind of life is that for kids?

I shake my head.

It’s what we were given. No use getting upset over it now. “Cardona took over the Citta Nostra Mafia and has been in charge ever since. And there’s been this understanding that as long as we don’t try to do anything to reclaim the Citta Nostra, then we’ll be allowed to live.”

“Wow, what a treat,” she snorts. “This is…a lot to take in, Liya.”

“Imagine how I feel.”

The words feel like venom on my lips, but I don’t apologize. I don’t beg for her to forgive my sharpness. Who can blame me for being upset?

No one.

And she gets it.

Or so I think.

“So, you can’t go to the police because…” she fades off, probably making the same confused face I’ve seen a million times. “Explain it to me like I’m five.”

“Because Cardona has men in the NYPD. The moment we go to the police, it’ll put everyone in danger because he’ll see it as us breaking our implicit understanding.”

She sighs. “You know you’re already in danger, right, Liya?”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, Willow. I kinda realize that.”

“Sorry. Just give me a minute. I need to think.”

I nod while trying to retain an ounce of calm. How my brother ever managed to handle things like this puzzles me.


Tags: Brook Wilder Suvorov Bratva Erotic