“Because I can’t protect you if you’re not with me. I like you, Alex. I’m not making that up. But my loyalty is to the familia, and if yours is too, you have immunity.” He sighs. “I know something is off about your engagement with Paolo. I might tolerate you being Russian, but Nikita would never forgive you marrying an Italian. He would see it as a betrayal. Instead, he’s asking to solely do business with your new father-in-law.”
“I don’t know anything about—”
“I know. I believe you. I think it’s Nikita’s game, and you and Paolo are merely playing it. But in the end, that isn’t going to be a good enough excuse. Unless you work with me. Whatever part you’re playing will be forgiven.”
I want to make a smartass remark but decide against it. My hands are still shaking.
“So are you with me?” he asks.
I nod. “I don’t much have a choice, do I? Since you’re threatening me and all.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’mwarningyou.” He sounds sincere. Like we’re friends and he cares about me, so that’s why he wants me to lie to a psychopath or else all my family will die.Suchgood friends.
“Thanks for the warning…” My voice is low, even as my mind tells my vocal cords to make my words strong. Sarcastic. Something that tells him I’m angry instead of hurt, that what he’s doing to me isn’t a knife driving into my heart, over and over again.
Settimo cups my face, and I don’t have the energy to push him away this time. He tilts my head so I look at him.
“I respect you, Alex. I care about you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do.”
“You respect me?”
He nods but his brows are scrunched like he knows he’s walking into a trap. “Yes.”
“Then tell me why you need me. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me…” I take a breath and search for the words. “Tell me something other than a dirty joke.”
His hand falls from my face, and he backs away from me. He rubs his temples then slides his hand down his face before dropping it at his side. Our eyes meet.
“I want you to mention Cormac because I want Nikita to think we might be conspiring against him with the Irish. It’ll do two things. One, he’ll feel pressure to pull back because he knows he doesn’t stand a chance in hell if that happens. Two, because it’ll piss him off. I believe we have a mole working with him, and I believe the mole is Leo Romano. Right now, all I have is speculation, and it isn’t enough to do anything. Leo has been in the familia his whole life and was my father’s greatest confidant. He had his respect and has the respect of the familia. Some members might be more loyal to him than they are to me, and if I do anything without proof, that could be a problem. Especially now.”
“So what does that have to do with telling Nikita you’re talking to—”
“No one knows about negotiations with the Irish except for Lorenzo, me, and now you. They haven’t begun yet. If Leo finds out, he’ll be insulted that he wasn’t involved in the decision, and he’ll let his anger show. The only person he can find out about the Irish from is Nikita.”
I process what he’s saying and bite my lip. “So it’s a setup? For Paolo’s dad?”
“Yes. It’s a setup for Leo and a threat for Nikita. I’m hoping he’ll be able to see reason and resume negotiations with us.”
“And this isn’t something you can just talk out with him? Be a little more direct about your threat, you know, like you were with me?”
Settimo shakes his head. “No. Nothing I say to Nikita will help. If anything, it’ll make things worse.”
“Why?”
Settimo is quiet for a few moments. “Because he is a ruthless piece of shit who wants to be alpha, and he’s willing to kill anyone who will be a threat to that… especially me.”
“Why especially you? Why does Nikita hate you so much?” There’s a desperation in my voice, and I didn’t know I felt this way until the words are out. There is so much I don’t know. I’ve been left in the dark for so long I can’t remember what light is like, and Settimo is offering me a sliver.
Settimo looks at the building next to us again. He’s been so serious this whole time, but now the aura he emits on command slowly vaporizes, and it’s him again. His shoulders slump, and his lips are in a tight line. He looks vulnerable… and like he could use another drink.
I don’t expect him to speak again, but I stay still as I watch him and wait for something to happen. He’s handsome like this, so much more so than when he’s sporting his hard demeanor. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and his sharp jaw looks strong instead of angry.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I lean toward him.
“I think I should take you back to your car.”
15
SETTIMO