Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“That crack shit you’re bringing here,” I snap.
“Give us the city, and we will keep it clean. While at war, what choice do we have?”
I don’t respond. It’s a stupid thing for him to say. There are always choices.
“He would have enjoyed it,” Fyodor says.
Still, I stay silent. It’s a foolish leader who feels the need to speak constantly.
“This is the first step to peace,” he goes on. “I’m delivering the man who almost kidnapped your daughter.”
“You order a dog to bite me and then expect me to throw you a party when you bandage the wound?”
“I like the analogy, and yes, fair point, Italian.”
“You don’t want peace,” I ask.
“What do I want, then?”
“Before I spoke to you, I wasn’t sure, but now I think you want chaos.”
“I want the city, and please, don’t say ‘over my dead body’ because then I will say ‘that can be arranged,’ and it will be like one of your awful American movies.”
“You’ll never have control of this city. I could order my men to execute you now.”
“You could order them to try, but I have twenty-five gunmen with me. They will all die.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I might be.”
I grind my teeth, my head aching.
“What do you want, Fyodor? From me? Now? Why did you leave a note at Edonismo?”
“Peace, like I said. We will carve the city in two. Right down the middle. The Mafia on one side and the Bratva on another. A great alliance, an end to the bloodshed.”
“And watch as your side of the city becomes a sex-trafficked, drug-addicted, jobless, crime-ridden hellhole?”
“So many ugly words.”
“Never.”
“Then the war will keep going. More women and children will die.”
“You say that like it’s a natural disaster, and you’re not controlling it.”
“It’s the way things are done. Sometimes, good men must do bad things.”
Dario gestures to me. He has his second cell phone held close to his chest. “We’ve spotted rifles in the nearby buildings. I need to order our guys to back off. Could be a bloodbath.”
I nod.
“Think about what I’ve said.” Fyodor sounds almost sad as if he regrets this, but he is also somehow capable and ready to do what he must. It’s a strange combination. “Or bad things will happen.”
He ends the call. I give Dario his cell phone, then turn back to Matvei.
“Have you ever hurt a woman or a child?” I ask him coldly.
“I would be foolish if I had, and I told you,” he replies.
“Dario, take him somewhere he won’t be found. Question him. We must know if he knows anything about the Bratva’s inner workings.”
“Easy work,” Dario says fiercely, grabbing Matvei. “Did you hear that, Matty, old buddy, old pal? You’re coming with me. Know who I am? I’m the man with an uncle of the fucking year mug sitting proudly on his desk.”
Matvei yelps when Dario punches him in the face.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emma
It feels so, so weird sitting in the living room with Rosa and Leo. Before, he was just the handsome dad, somebody I had a fleeting crush on, but I never thought he’d want to kiss, touch, and be with me. Now, I’m self-conscious about everything I do, every breath, every movement.
It’s been almost three days since I last saw him, but it feels much longer. The passage of time has let me trick myself into believing I can be cold again and close off these feelings. However, I melt when I see him, huge in the armchair, shirtsleeves rolled up so that his forearms bulge, his contrasting eyes filled with so much meaning. I weaken. I want to kiss him and touch him so badly. That’s a problem, considering the circumstances.
He’s holding one of Rosa’s hands, talking to her gently. He hasn’t looked at me once. I’m only here because Rosa wanted me to stay.
“We’ve got him,” Leo says.
“Got him?” Rosa responds with a shudder.
“We’ve questioned him. He didn’t know much—a few locations that are vaguely useful to us. I wouldn’t normally tell you about this, but I have to now.”
“Why, Dad?” she whispers.
“Because of what he did to you. You deserve to have a say in what happens to him next.”
I wonder if Leo is making this offer because of what happened between us. Maybe guilt is driving him to include her in this when he never normally would, his guilt pushing him to the edge of reason.
“Oh, God, Dad, I don’t know. He didn’t do anything to me.”
“He was going to. When he got you into that car, he was rough. He bloodied your lip, remember?”
“He did?” I say in shock.
Rosa looks at me, and Leo doesn’t. He’s making a point not to, just like I did at breakfast last week. Last week… This has been the longest weekend ever. It feels like time has just dragged and dragged, each second consumed with thoughts of Leo.