Made in Vengeance

He shot me another look.

“I might have threatened to spank her for sneaking out of bed last night.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“Fuck, yeah. As soon as I’m not feeling so fucking volatile, I will. Need to let her know I don’t fucking make empty promises.”

“Promise or threat?”

I grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“You look better,” I said.

He made a small noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“About the Bianchi enforcer?”

I nodded. He wasn’t an easy man to pin down. Before making his way to the U.S. and joining the Bianchi Famiglia, he worked as the enforcer for the old family of the Cosa Nostra in Sicily, right before their don was executed.

The man was probably harder to find than I was, which said something because if I didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t be found.

But I had my own fucking way of finding people.

“I don’t know. Would you want to find your kids if there’s a possibility they are dead?”

I could feel my nostrils flaring at the thought. My kids weren't a topic I liked to talk about with anyone, not even my brothers.

“There is always a possibility that they’re dead,” I said quietly. I always knew it, especially since my ex-wife, Alina, was a heartless bitch. Konstantin and Dmitriy were only three when Alina took them and left. She seemed to have disappeared overnight, and it wasn’t until a few years after that that I discovered the truth.

Fucking Angelo Agnello had helped her escape from me. I had been just a fighter in the ring for Luca Monroe. The Solntsevskaya Bratva had control of the East then, and Damien had been in the midst of gaining power and driving the old family out.

Mikhail moved away from the punching bag and took me in. “I’m sorry, man. We’ll find them.”

I offered a small grunt but didn’t respond to that.

Mikhail looked off to the side. “I would like to find my mom,” he said quietly. “I need to know. Even if she is dead, I need to know.”

I nodded. “I’ve been looking for the Bianchi enforcer.”

His blue eyes met mine, and I crossed my arms over my chest, smiling a bit.

“How do you feel about crashing a birthday party in Vegas?” I asked.

His eyes crinkled as he said, “Sounds fun.”

* * *

I grabbeda water bottle from the fridge and uncapped it, taking a large gulp.

My hair was slightly damp from a recent shower, and I hadn’t seen Catalina since I got back to the house.

I leaned against the huge-ass kitchen island, looking around, my mind drifting.

Mikhail was talking with Damien right now, making plans for our trip to Las Vegas. They wanted to take Catalina along.

I supposed it was better than leaving her here unprotected, but something about taking her to the Bianchis’ territory had me feeling restless.