One for my family. One for my clubs. And finally, for Cara.
I roll my shoulders to ease the tension trickling down my spine. Archer steps toward me and his hand settles heavily on my shoulder.
Grigoriy Lenkov is dead.
The face and name to all the trouble brought to my front door by Callahan Ryan now lies dead at my feet. I turn on my heel and stride from the room, my head held high as Archer follows, then we stop as we come face to face with Yelena, who is now draped in the suit jacket from the man that escorted her from the room.
Her tear-filled eyes are wide as she regards me, trembling fingers pinching at her lower lip.
“Thank you,” I state, and I know the meaning is lost on her. She will never know how important killing this man was for me. She nods, though, straggly blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders as her gaze falls to behind me, where Grigoriy’s body can be seen draped over the bed and she sobs.
A sound that falls deaf to me as I stride away, satisfied for the moment.
“Should we be worried about cops?” Archer appears at my side as we descend the stairs.
“We never worry about cops; Sienna will take care of it,” I reply. “But you know what this means.”
“I’ll have to pay Sienna an extra visit in thanks?”
We come to a stop near the car, and I open the door for Archer. “Yeah, but it also means she’s going to throw a party. What we’ve done here is an obvious retaliation. We didn’t attack their business; we went straight to their throat. And there’s no better show of power and lack of fear than celebrating with both families after a kill like this.”
Archer cheers lightly, sliding into the car, and I cast a glance back at the building.
There will be other threats, other men to slaughter, and in the grand scheme of things, Grigoriy is but a stone cast in the ocean.
Killing one brigadier won’t end a war, but it sure will start one.
35
KILLIAN
The extravagance that Sienna can get her hands on never ceases to amaze me. How she manages to balance being the matriarch of the family, a mother, and organizing events like this all at the same time, I will never know.
She stands center stage, her voice booming around the nightclub as she thanks all who are in attendance and encourages everyone to mingle, relax and have a good time. I stand off to the side, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. This party isn’t just for Irish and Italian to mingle; it’s also a show of unity after the death of Grigoriy Lenkov.
Hitting back at the Russians and then throwing a party like we don’t care? That insult runs deep.
Warmth curls around my elbow, and I glance down to see Cara’s hand brush over my skin, hooking herself onto me as she balances herself to fix something with the strap of her shoe. The ivy green dress she’s chosen for tonight hugs her figure in all therightways, and honestly, I think I’m being taunted.
“Are you hoping for a rise out of me, coming out dressed like that?” I purr into her ear when she straightens up. Her hair brushes against my cheek as she shakes her head, turning her stunning black-lined eyes to mine.
“If you’d gotten ready with me athome,you could have had a voice in what I wear,” she replies with an easy smirk. “Instead, my father had to drive me here becauseyouwere too busy.”
“Touche.” I’d left early to attend a short meeting with Dante over some of our affairs, missing Cara’s wardrobe choices. “My apologies, darling.”
She tosses her head and her dark eyes sparkle. I half regret it; while she looks absolutelystunningin that dress, I don’t want other people to see her like this. If I see desire inanyone’s eyes tonight, there’ll be hell to pay.
“Did you get a chance to talk to him, your father?”
“No,” Cara pouts slightly, “he prattled on with useless small talk. I will find him later.”
It’s unclear to me exactly how well that discussion will go, but Cara does want to clear the air with him in regards to his blabbing; I know that much.
“Come,” Cara pats my arm. “We have to make the rounds, show our faces. Please try to keep the ‘I want to kill everyone glare’ to a minimum.”
“You’re falling into your duties well,” I reply as she pulls me along through the sea of people pulsing around us.
“I know my role,” she replies and her head tilts, flicking some of her black hair over her bare shoulder. Light music flows through the air, weaving between the soft lighting that drifts down from above. It’s not the atmosphere this club is used to hosting, but it’s our territory, and this isn’t aget-drunk and fuckkind of evening.