A noise downstairs makes me sit up straight.
It’s a creak. Barely a sound. But it happens again. I grab a gun from my bedside table, make sure it’s loaded, and slip out of bed. I’m in a pair of boxer briefs and the moonlight glistens off my tattoos as I creep to the bedroom door.
The sound again. Someone’s moving down there. I slip into the hallway and pad down the steps as quietly as I can. I reach the bottom, my heart racing, sweat prickling my arms and back.
I knew this would happen sooner or later. I thought we might have another day—but I was wrong.
I come around the corner fast with my gun raised and find a pistol aimed at my face.
I don’t move. My eyes focus in the darkness, and Oleg’s grin flashes back at me. The barrel of my gun is an inch from his mouth.
“Hello, Maxim,” he says. “Sleep well?”
“Not really. Did my father send you?”
“Yes, he did.”
“To talk or to kill?”
Oleg raises his eyebrows. “He would’ve sent more than just me if he wanted you dead. He’s not stupid.”
I nod once. “Lower your gun then.”
“If you kill me, you won’t have any chance at convincing your father to spare your life.”
“I’m aware. Lower it.”
He drops it down and tucks it into a holster at his side. I lower mine and hold it loosely at my side. He grins happily and walks to the kitchen where I find he’s already poured two glasses of vodka. He pushes one over and I take it. I don’t put my gun down. I can’t relax around Oleg, even if I have known him for a long time. He’s my father’s creature, and right now my father is my enemy, at least until I can make him my friend again.
Oleg grins and raises his glass into the air. “To the bratva.”
“To the bratva.”
We drink. I toss it back and watch him the whole time. Oleg’s an old soldier, quick with a gun, and very strong. He’s clever and skilled, and he’s one of my father’s most trusted men. If he’s here, that means my father is taking this very seriously.
That’s good. I need him to if I’m going to survive.
“What’s the plan here, Maxim? You know what your father said. If I go back and confirm that you have that girl, your life is forfeit. When I return, it’ll be at the head of a ten-man death squad.”
“I’m aware of that. You think I haven’t led plenty of those squads myself?”
“I know you have.”
“Tell my father I have a proposition for him. It’s a very simple offer, but I have a feeling he’ll find it attractive.”
Oleg pours himself another drink. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Tell him I am going to marry Siena. Tell him I love her, and nothing will change that. But I’m willing to give him something that will pay for this tenfold, if he’s willing to give me time. I’m asking for a week.”
“One week. And you think you can pay him tenfold? I’m not sure if money can cover the betrayal of a son.”
“The bratva is business, and the bratva comes before family. He’ll negotiate.”
Oleg shrugs. “If you say so. You know your father.”
“Tell him it involves the Bastone family and their holdings. I’m going to give him something better than an alliance.”
“One week. I think your father will give you that. But beyond a week?” He waves a hand in the air. “Nobody can say. Your father is not such an easy man to please.”
“I’m well aware.”
He downs his second vodka and nods to me. “I would stay here if I were you. Don’t go running. Don’t give us reason to chase.” He walks past me and I follow as he disappears out the front door. Bastard must’ve picked my locks and slipped in without me hearing. A chill crawls down my spine, but I was expecting something like that. I close the door and lock it again, even if the bolts are less than useless.
I knew the second I took Siena from The Velvet Rope, my father would find out and he’d send someone to talk—at least, I hoped it would be to talk. There was no guarantee my father wouldn’t have simply sent the death squads without any sort of conversation first. But I have a feeling my mother convinced him not to take the rashest action possible.
A creak on the stairs. I put my gun down on a side table and look over as Siena steps toward me. She frowns, touching her bandaged cheek. “I heard you talking,” she says, and her voice fills me with an incredible desire, one I’m not sure I can stifle for long. “What are you going to do to my family?”
“I’m not sure you want to know.”
“You can’t hurt my brothers.”