“Really?” Lorenzo Ricci, a.k.a. the capo of the Italian Mafia, shuffles back in his seat, a cigar hanging from between his lips. “Because the way I see it, this was bound to happen. Someone has been dragging their feet.” His dark, beady eyes shift between both Pierre and me. Pierre who has the decency to keep quiet.
I lower myself onto the chair. “I told you it wasn’t ready yet.”
“How so?” Lorenzo asks. “Because I’m ready. We’re ready! That’s the only reason why I’m sitting opposite this pezzo di merda.”
I shift my focus to Pierre, who doesn’t so much as flinch at Lorenzo’s insult. “She’s not ready.”
“Well, we are. My son is. Has been—it’s time for her to take her place.”
“We have a problem,” I say, leaning back in my chair, not to get comfortable, but to put more distance between Lorenzo and me. “She isn’t ready. Right now, I’m getting her out of a situation that she’s in with another person.”
“Well, deal with him the way we know you can,” Lorenzo demands, his tone a notch higher than it was seconds ago.
Persistent bastard. Can’t say I blame him really. If I had to sit around and wait for a girl to be ready to marry my son in order to save a generational war, I would be the same. Only this girl is Meraki, and I ain’t about to give her out just yet, no matter how safe I know she will be.
“And I will.” I hold his stare until he finally looks away. “But what I have planned for him isn’t something I’m willing to go easy with, if you feel what I’m saying…”
They won’t, and Pierre is as usual, sitting quietly in the corner. He moves when he needs to, and when he doesn’t, he’ll spend that time analyzing. Watching. Studying people and the way they converse—or the way they don’t.
Pierre finally shifts forward, unbuttoning his jacket and resting his arms on the table. He clasps his hands together, staring up at me and only me. The only reason these two can sit in the same room is because I’ll shoot them both if they don’t do it civilly.
“One week.” His voice is low, but not threatening. He finally turns to Lorenzo. “You come back in one week and she will be ready.”
I clear my throat to stop from laughing.
Pierre finally brings his eyes to mine. “And handle that family.”
I watch as they both rise from their chairs. Lorenzo leaves with a trail of fancy words in his wake, and when it’s only Pierre and I standing in the boardroom, he finally says the words I knew he was going to.
“I know she’s here. I can smell it in your fear.”
“What the fuck—” I glare at him, but he holds his hand up to stop me from going further.
“We all know who you are, Nikolai. You don’t need to keep waving your cock around the place to get your point across, but I know you, and when I didn’t know you, I watched you. Both of you. That’s how I know that she is in this house somewhere.” He stops just at the threshold, buttoning up his jacket again and turning to face me slightly. “I trust you will keep her safe, but Nikolai, you are not always going to be untouchable, and the first person people go for when they want to hurt someone who is untouchable is not the target itself, it’s the collateral around it.” He reaches for his cigar in his jacket, placing it into his mouth. “You both have rich history, but do not forget that she isn’t for you. She is for someone else, and she will get there whether she wants to or not.”
I take a threatening step forward and his green eyes shoot up to mine in warning. “Pierre, I mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, but your daughter means jack shit to me. History? That means nothing but a fucking mark in my memory bank. I will put a bullet between her eyes, and yours, if you ever come into my house and disrespect me that way again.” I tap at my temple, a slow smirk crawling onto my lips. “Don’t forget how I got here and why I got here.”
Pierre chuckles but turns his back on me anyway, as if to call my bluff. I should fucking shoot him right here and now just for speaking to me the way he did, but I ain’t a coward. I don’t kill from behind. I do it while looking into the person’s eyes. I like to watch the life bleed out of their body and know I was the one who took it.
“I’ll see you in a week.”
I don’t realize I’ve been grinding my teeth until I open my mouth to call for Mal. He materializes into the room.