“Okay?” I asked.
She bit her bottom lip and squeezed my hand in answer.
I met Kirill’s eyes from the rearview mirror, and he nodded.
My men had already surrounded the restaurant. One signal from me, and they would swarm the place. Their priority would be to get Catalina out of there and to safety.
The gun I had strapped to my side, hidden underneath my suit jacket, pressed in on me.
We were walking into the lion’s den.
“Wait for me to open your door,kotyonok,” I said.
Something like pain flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before I could even question it. I hesitated for a moment before opening the door, my eyes scanning the place.
We were in downtown LA. The streets were bursting with people. It would make it hard not to draw attention to us should things go wrong, but that also meant Bianchi wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Not in his territory.
I walked around the car and opened the door for Catalina. She placed her hand in mine and let me pull her out. I wondered what she was thinking about right now.
Though not very talkative, I never had any trouble reading her.
Until now, when she decided to shut the rest of the world—and me—out.
“Come on, baby. When we get inside, I need you to do everything I ask of you. And should things go wrong, I want you to go with Kirill.”
Catalina sneaked a glance at the man in question, who was standing behind us.
She tightened her grip on my hand, shaking her head slightly. I made my gaze turn hard.
“This is serious, Catalina. You either go with Kirill, or I have instructed him to use whatever means necessary to get you to safety.”
She pointed at me, her bottom lip trembling a little.
I could feel my shoulders sagging. “I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself, and I will come back to you. Okay?”
Her eyes shifted. She looked like she was moments away from pulling me out of there. But then, she held her other hand to me, her pinkie raised.
I cupped her cheek and pressed a hard kiss against her lips before pulling away and hooking my pinkie around her much smaller one.
“I promise,kotyonok. I will always come back to you. Just like Damien will come back to you. Just like Nikolay will come back to you.”
She blinked, her eyes red and wet, which I noticed, even underneath the dimmed streetlight that had come on.
She nodded and closed the gap between us.
I held her by my side as we walked inside the large, empty restaurant, save for a table in the center.
There, three men sat, facing the doorway.
Roberto Bianchi sat on one side, Ricardo Ricci on the other, and finally, between the two men, was Francisco Bianchi, whose brown eyes gleamed with some unknown emotion.
His eyes met mine briefly before moving onto Catalina, where they remained fixated.
If he was concerned about this meeting, he didn’t show it.
Kirill stayed behind, standing by the door and hidden in the shadow, watching for any signs of trouble. We stopped at the edge of the table. For one long moment, no one said anything.