“If the fucking gun falls apart again, I’m killing the fucker,” I threaten as Luca and I walk into the warehouse.
Juan-Paul scurries around like a mouse as he tries to prepare everything for the presentation.
“You better not waste my time again,” I warn him, the promise of death ingrained in my words.
Please waste my fucking time, so I can kill you.
“Everything is ready, Mr. Vetrov,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure of himself.
I pull my Heckler & Koch from behind my back and train the barrel on him. “Shoot the fucking gun and pray it works.”
With sweat already pouring down his temples, he nods and picks up the modified Glock. With a nervous expression, he aims at a target, and when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens.
A ruthless smile starts to tug at the corner of my mouth as Juan-Paul stutters, “W-wait. L-let me t-try again.”
Stupid fucker.
Knowing what might happen, Luca and I take a couple of steps back.
When Juan-Paul pulls the trigger again, the second round slams into the previous incomplete discharge, and the weapon explodes in the fucker’s hand, spraying him with shrapnel and some of the remaining bullets.
Fortunately, none of the bullets instantly kills the idiot. He drops to the floor, and it takes a moment before he becomes vocal from the pain caused by his injuries.
Slowly, I walk closer and press the barrel of my gun to his temple. Locking eyes with him, I mutter, “Let me show you how a real gun works.”
“N-no!”
I pull the trigger and watch as the light in his eyes is instantly snuffed out.
“Feeling better?” Luca asks.
I shrug. “A little.” Then I grin at my friend. “It was fun watching the weapon explode in his hand, though. I’ll take today as a win.”
Not bothering with Juan-Paul’s men, Luca and I walk out of the warehouse. I climb into the passenger seat of our SUV while Luca slides behind the steering wheel.
Taking out my phone, I check whether Rosalie has replied to any of my messages, but there’s nothing. Only the texts I sent her.
Why won’t you give me your address?
Is it because you don’t trust me?
Are you ignoring me now, moya Malen’kaya Roza?
I stepped in your dog’s shit.
I’m getting worried.
If you don’t reply, I’m flying out to New York.
Don’t test me, moya Malen’kaya Roza.
“Has Rosalie replied?” Luca asks as he drives us to the airfield where our private jet is waiting.
“No.” I haven’t heard from her in three days and to say I’m worried is the understatement of the fucking century.
I check her tracker and see that she’s still at Giovanni Parisi’s house. I know his daughter is the same age as Rosalie, so I assume she’s reconnected with an old friend.
It was Alissa Parisi’s birthday yesterday. That’s why Rosalie wore the cocktail dress.
The moment we step aboard the private jet, I pull my laptop out and start to type. I bring up all the CCTV and security cameras near Parisi’s house, but everything looks quiet.
Luca leans closer and checks the screen, then asks, “Who’s place is that?”
“Giovanni Parisi.”
His eyebrows dart up. “Why the fuck are you looking into the Cosa Nostra?”
“Rosalie is there.”
My friend gives me a worried look. “Please don’t start a war with the Cosa Nostra. It took me years to establish the peace treaty.”
I let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. I think Rosalie is visiting Alissa. They’re the same age. With the families having ties, I’m sure the girls were friends.”
A call comes through on Luca’s phone. “It’s my dad.”
“Hey, Papá,” he answers. “I’m good, and you?” He listens, then lets out a chuckle. “I’m watching Viktor sulk.”
I glare at my friend.
He chuckles again, then explains, “He let Rosalie go, and she went to New York. I’m stuck babysitting him, so he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Suddenly Luca sits up straight, worry furrowing his brow. “Hold on. I’m putting you on speaker so Viktor can hear.”
“Hello, Viktor,” Uncle Lucian’s voice comes over the line.
“Hey, Uncle Lucian. What’s up?”
“If Rosalie is in New York, she might run into trouble.”
“Why?”
“It happened before you and Luca took over your respective positions. You must’ve been… seventeen?”
Growing impatient, I ask, “What happened?”
“The Cosa Nostra disapproved of the Mannos dealing in sex trafficking. That’s why they moved to Chicago before Liam drove them out and they settled in Canada.”
“I already know this,” I mutter.
“The Mannos are banned from the city, Viktor,” Uncle Lucian says, worry tensing his voice. “Antonio stole money from the Cosa Nostra, and I’m pretty sure they’re behind the accident that killed Rosalie’s father.”
What?
My heart starts to beat faster.
“Why didn’t you tell me this when I took over the mafia?” Luca asks, his worried gaze settling on me.
“It wasn’t of importance to our business. Honestly, I never even thought of it. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things because the Mannos didn’t even register on our radar,” Uncle Lucian answers.
Every muscle in my body tenses as I say, “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me the Cosa Nostra banned the Mannos from New York. Antonio stole from them, and now Rosalie is in fucking enemy territory?”
“That sums it up,” Uncle Lucian mutters.
“Blyadʹ!” Shooting out of my seat, I walk to the pilot and instruct, “Change direction to New York.”
“Yes, Mr. Vetrov.”
I stalk back to Luca, then anger explodes in my chest, and I kick one of the leather seats.
I yank out my phone and dial Rosalie’s number, but the call immediately goes to an automated message.
“Blyadʹ,” I snap as fear trickles into my heart.
I hurry back to the pilot and ask, “How long will it take?”
“Five hours and forty-five minutes, Mr. Vetrov.”
Christ.
I go back to Luca and lock eyes with my friend, who’s still on a call with his father.
“I’m calling Parisi,” I mutter.
“Don’t,” Uncle Lucian snaps. “It will give them time to think of a plan before you arrive. Also, take the time to calm down. If you get there and the girl is not in any danger, it won’t start an unnecessary war, and you can pretend you just wanted to say hello. If she’s in trouble, the fact that you’re there in person will show them you’re not playing, and they might let her go unharmed.”
He’s right.
Unable to stand still, I start to stalk up and down the short length of the plane.
Christ. I hope to all that’s holy, Rosalie is just visiting with Alissa, and she’s not in trouble.
Or worse,… already dead.
No!
My breathing speeds up at the thought that I might already be too late.
“Rosalie better be alive when I get there,” I say, my voice hoarse from the worry and anger. “Or I’ll wipe out every Sicilian in New York.”
“Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” Uncle Lucian says.
“I’ll call you when we know more,” Luca tells his father.
He ends the call, then opens a group chat with Nikolas, Gabriel, and Liam.
“This is a surprise,” Nikolas answers.
“Viktor and I need the three of you in New York,” Luca informs the other members of the Priesthood. “Just as back up.”
“For?” Liam asks.
“Apparently, the Mannos are banned from New York, and they fucking owe the Cosa Nostra money,” I mutter, my tone filled with rage.
“So Rosalie walked right into their hands,” Nikolas says. “That sucks.”
“This happened when you were already the head of the Greek mafia,” I tell Nikolas. “You didn’t know?”
“Fuck no,” he chuckles. “I didn’t know about Manno’s existence until the meeting where Liam and Luca told me who he was.”
“Liam?” I ask.
“I only knew the fucker was causing trouble in my territory, and nothing about his past, or I would’ve warned you.”
True.
“This is a clusterfuck,” Gabriel gives his opinion. “I can be there in five and half hours.”
“Me too,” Nikolas assures me.
“I’ll be there in three,” Liam says. “What do you want me to do?”
“Hang back until we’re all there,” Luca answers. “Let Viktor talk to Giovanni. If Rosalie isn’t in any trouble, then it won’t look too suspicious, but if we all confront the Cosa Nostra, there will be an instant war.”
“Got it,” the other men agree.
“Liam, bring weapons. I only have my two Heckler & Kocks,” I say.
“Will do.”
“We’ll meet at my place in Central Park South. I’ll have Luca text you the address.”
Everyone agrees before we end the call.
I sit down and open my laptop again, hacking into the security cameras around Parisi’s home. It’s still quiet.
Jesus, let Rosalie be okay and just visiting with Alissa.
The flight is taking fucking forever, and ten minutes before we land, I notice activity at Parisi’s house.
“We’ve got movement,” I mutter.
Luca leans closer so he can see the screen.
Giovanni escorts his wife and Alissa to a car, then watches as they drive away before he nods toward the house. Two guards come out of the front door, dragging Rosalie, who’s yanking against their hold.
Blyadʹ.
The air leaves my lungs in a rush and every muscle in my body tenses.
“Fuck,” Luca snaps.
Every bruise on her beautiful face takes a brutal swing at my heart. Where her skin isn’t marked black and blue, it’s pale as fuck. Her features are torn in agony, telling me she’s in a fuck-ton of pain.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My breathing speeds up, and white-hot rage explodes in my chest.
I watch as she’s forced into an SUV. Parisi climbs in the back with her, then they drive off the property.
Wrath, unlike anything I’ve felt before, makes my body tremble. I’m going to wipe out the Cosa Nostra.
My voice is filled with carnage and destruction. “I’m going to fucking kill them.”
I yank my phone out of my pocket to call Parisi, but Luca grabs hold of my arms to stop me.
“Don’t! Right now, she owes them money. They won’t kill her. But if you call and threaten him, that will change. We have the element of surprise. With the tracking device, you know where she is. We’ll get Liam to follow them.”
I start typing fast and bring up Rosalie’s tracking device’s signal.
Luca gets Liam on the line. “We need you to tail Parisi. He has Rosalie, and she’s been roughed up, so it’s fair to assume this is going to turn into a fight. Keep your distance until we join you. We don’t want to lose the element of surprise.”
“Will do,” Liam replies. “Where are they now?”
I give the GPS coordinates to Liam, then say, “If it looks like they’re going to kill her, you need to intervene. I know I’m asking a lot. You’ll be up against two guards and Parisi.”
“Don’t worry, Viktor. I’ll save her if things go sideways.”
The private jet touches down on the tarmac with a soft bump.
My voice is strained as I say, “Please don’t let her die.”
“She won’t. I promise,” Liam assures me.
“I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. It’s my turn to be there for you. I’ll make sure your woman doesn’t get killed.”
“Thank you.” My voice disappears from all the emotions wreaking havoc in my chest.
The pilot advises us that we’re about to land at the private airfield, but all my attention is on the tracking device showing me where Rosalie is.
“I have sights on the SUV,” Liam suddenly says.
“Can you see if Rosalie is okay?”
“I’m not close enough.”
“Don’t give your position away,” Luca reminds Liam.
“They’re stopping by a church,” Liam advises us. “Do I follow them inside?”
“Blyadʹ,” I snap.
“There are a lot of people. It looks like a wedding,” Liam says.
What?
I glance at Luca, and just as the thought crosses my mind, Luca asks, “You think they’re having her marry someone as payment for the debt?”
It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in our world.
“Liam, stay hidden. Check how many guards we’ll have to deal with,” I order. “Get the weapons ready.”
“On it.”
When the private jet comes to a stop, I quickly close the laptop and shove it into my bag. Getting up, I rush off the plane to where Gabriel and Nikolas are already waiting.
I’m coming, moya Malen’kaya Roza.
Shutting down my emotions so I’ll be clear-headed, vengeance pours through my veins.
Time to kill.
