Before he could devote all his time to seducing Rose back to his side, properly this time, there were tasks that needed to be completed. He considered his options and went with the easiest call first.
“You’re in trouble now, cugino.”
He nearly rolled his eyes at Matteo’s amusement. His cousin was a good leader, but the side he showed Dante was pure chaos. “Your father sent me to New York. What did he think was going to happen?”
“That the Romanov girl would annoy you and you’d snap her neck.”
The thought of a world without Rose Romanov in it sent a burst of repulsion through him. No matter what lengths she went to, how hard she fought, how much she snarled and snapped and fought, only one fact mattered. She was his. If it took a month or ten years, she’d admit it eventually. In the meantime, he would ensure no one else laid a finger on her. “She’s mine.”
Matteo snorted. “Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. My father doesn’t care. She was going to marry the Capparelli heir, so he wants her dead.”
“Then I’ll kill him before you have a chance to.”
All joking bled out of his cousin’s voice. “No. It’s not time.”
“Then you better keep him on a leash.” Dante was content to let his cousin play his deeper game, but only as long as Lorenzo didn’t try to follow through on the threat against Rose. He’d allow no one, not Lorenzo, not Dmitri Romanov, not the gods themselves to take his woman from him.
His cousin sighed. “You couldn’t have waited a few weeks for this? You’ve upset the balance. Kirill is back, and he’s threatening to ignite the conflict between our families again if you don’t return the woman immediately.”
“Lorenzo must be thrilled. He wants nothing more than to go out in a blaze of glory.”
“Not at the expense of our people and territory,” Matteo snapped. “You’ve endangered both.”
He glanced at the monitors. He respected the fuck out of his cousin. Matteo was probably the only person in this life he actually cared about. Well, Matteo and now Rose. He understood his cousin’s desire do right by their people, but Dante didn’t feel the same push. “This will be over shortly.”
“And then what? You can’t honestly think the Romanovs are going to be happy, even if you manage to convince her to see things your way.”
Frankly, he didn’t give a fuck what the Romanovs thought, but he knew better than to say as much. “Once things are settled with Rose, it will become a family affair between me and the New York Romanovs. Kirill will back off.” The man was getting old, and he was tired. Unlike Lorenzo who wanted to escalate things as the years passed, Kirill seemed to want to enjoy his last decade or so in this world with booze, women, and good food. He wouldn’t push things unless someone forced the issue.
“You don’t have much time.”
“Keep your father from escalating things. As long as he doesn’t push Kirill too far, it’ll settle as soon as this is sorted”
Matteo sighed. “Why not ask for the moon while you’re at it?”
“You could always kill him now and be done with it.”
“Not yet.” Ice slid into his cousin’s tone. “Some of the old guard is being resistant to the idea of change.”
“So, kill them, too.”
His cousin snorted. “I’ll think about it. Stay safe.”
“You, too.” He hung up and planted his hands on the counter. If Lorenzo fucked this up for him, Dante would ensure he suffered before Matteo finally put a bullet between his eyes. Kirill getting pissy wasn’t outside the realm of expectation. The Romanovs truly liked the fantasy that they were loyal to each other and just as clannish as the O’Malleys were. It was a lie.
Thirty years ago, Dmitri Romanov nearly got snuffed out by his own people. He’d made too many mistakes with the O’Malleys and had gone soft for the youngest sister. Marrying her initially stayed Mother Russia’s hand, and then there was a conflict in Texas that turned their gaze away from New York for a few years. By the time they circled back, Dmitri and Keira were stable and ruling a healthy territory. Above reproach, even for the likes of Jovan Romanov.
Even with all the research Dante did into the New York Romanov family, he still wasn’t sure if Dmitri realized how close he’d come to being ground to dust beneath the boot of his extended family. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Studying history made the future predictable. Which was how he could recite the next phone call almost without making it. Unfortunately, some things simply had to be done. He dug one of the burner phones out of the drawer full of them and called Dmitri Romanov.
As suspected, the man himself answered. “Romanov.” A faint Russian accent flavored the word.