Chapter 9
WAR
St. Loren was beautiful to the eye, but it festered like an infected tooth beneath the surface.
It was an unknown entity, and I didn't like unknowns. Every city had its predators. Here, it was the Greek Lords MC—a local chapter of the bikers we’d just left—the Blood Club—a gentleman’s club steeped in old money and dirty hands—and the Sabbatini Famiglia.
Riccardo Sabbatini ran the Italian enterprise with his cousin, and while Derek considered them tentative allies, I saw only wolves.
They would see Kit as an opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let them take it. Not on my watch.
“Where is Sky?” I surveyed our surroundings. We were at a café near the middle of the city. Kit had already called his brother and asked him to meet us here. While Sky was surprised to hear from Kit and that he was in the city, he agreed to show up.
“He’ll be here soon.” Kit tapped on his phone, a thoughtful pout on his lips as he typed a message. “I asked him not to tell Dad I was here.”
I stifled a snort. Derek would know. Kit was using a credit card that, though in his name, Derek controlled and tracked.
Derek had extensive connections, and everything linked to Kit’s legal name was traceable by his father.
It would take some time for those connections to yield answers, but they would.
Still, there was no point in telling Kit that.
I studied Kit’s face, noting the excitement in his eyes and the eager curve of his smile. Every so often, his gaze would dart around, searching before snapping back to his phone.
Finally, he glanced up and dropped his phone onto the table. He sprang to his feet, and I turned my head toward the door.
Sky Uhlig sashayed into the café. I’d met him twice before, and he hadn’t changed—still the kind of man who expected a room to notice him—and they did.
He had curls, dark like the rest of his male relatives.
Then there was the cheekbones, the narrow chin, and the easy way he moved—all of it calculated, whether he knew it or not.
Strangers glanced up as he passed and he clocked each of them. Interesting.
I frowned.
“Sky!” Kit opened his arms, and Sky flew into them, burying his face in Kit’s shoulder despite being a head taller. I suspected Sky had always been treated as the baby of the family, and his demeanor reflected it. “I missed you.”
Sky laughed, ruffling Kit’s hair. “I missed you, too. Why the hell are you here?”
He stepped away from Kit, and his gaze landed on me. His stare was curious but with a hard edge I didn’t like, and I held his eyes, cataloging the subtle shift in his posture and the confidence in his stance. Brother or not, allegiances could turn on a dime, and I wasn’t taking any risks with Kit.
“You’re War.” Sky smirked. “Dad’s man.” His attention swept over me, a quick, dismissive inventory. I let the silence answer for me.
He looked away first.
“Come sit.” Kit tugged Sky toward a seat. “I got you a latte.”
“Did you?” Sky’s grin didn’t reach his eyes. He sat, but his attention was still on me. “So, why is Dad’s man here if Dad doesn’t know you are?”
“My name is War, use it.” My voice was low and flat. “And I’m here for Kit.”
“War,” Sky said, his tone thick with sarcasm. “So very sorry.”
He knew my name, and had used it on more than one occasional visit before. He was being a smartass, and his attitude should have irritated me, but it didn’t. I was used to men like him, the kind who thought they were better than me.
“Sky.” Kit frowned. “Stop it. War’s been helping.”
“With what?” Sky’s eyes softened, but I didn’t trust his expression. “You didn’t tell me anything. You said you were here and wanted to see me, and not to tell Dad. What’s going on?”
“We shouldn’t talk about it here.” The last thing I wanted was for someone to overhear us.
St. Loren’s criminal enterprises had ears everywhere, especially the Sabbatini Famiglia.
They were resourceful and refined in their methods.
If they knew Derek Uhlig’s son and bodyguard were in the city, they’d have someone watching, waiting.
Derek had given up on Sky, but Kit was treasure to anyone who wanted to wave a pawn piece in front of the boss.
Sky cocked his head, a smug smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Are you afraid?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Of what?”
“Sky . . . .” Kit’s frown deepened. “Do you know about Dad?”
“About what? His casinos? His games?” Sky shrugged.
“Games? A casino? How do you know about all of this?” Kit demanded.
Sky glanced around, a smirk playing on his lips as if he enjoyed the risk.
“Enough.” My voice was a low growl that cut through his smirk. I leaned forward, my shadow falling over him. “This conversation is over. Now. There are eyes everywhere.”
Sky didn’t flinch, but his smile tightened. “I know the Sabbatinis,” he stated, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “We’re safe.”
My spine stiffened, an uncomfortable alertness prickling through me. I gritted my teeth. “How do you know them?”
“Wait, who are the Sabbatinis?” Kit asked, his voice quieter this time. Thank fuck. I didn’t need another Norse Lords situation.
Sky waved his hand at me dismissively, and I snatched his wrist in a hard, relentless grip. He glared at me, but I’d looked into the eyes of men who could actually kill me. This spoiled brat was harmless.
“You talk to me, not Kit. How the fuck do you know the Sabbatinis, Skyler?” Something cold and operational gripped at me, resembling the same stillness that had come over me in Afghanistan when a situation turned sideways and there was no room left for hesitation.
Kit was at risk, and I wasn’t going to back down, even if Sky was his brother.
The Sabbatinis weren’t the type of people to mess with.
Sky’s gaze slid slowly to my fingers gripping his wrist before rising to my face. “Release me. Now.”
“No, I don’t think I will. Not until I get answers,” I growled back.
“Skyler, War, stop it.” Kit was ignored.
Sky’s smirk was pure arrogance. Before I could counter, the café door slammed open. Two men, large and suited, moved toward our table with the fluid economy of predators. My hand was on my Glock before I was even fully on my feet, my mind already calculating angles of fire.
“Stop!” Kit screamed, raw fear in his voice.
Sky raised a hand, and the men froze midstride. The café erupted into chaos as patrons dropped to the floor or scrambled for the exits. The spell of normalcy was broken.
They moved like professionals, strength contained in expensive suits. They were bodyguards, same as me. But they weren’t Derek’s men, which meant they were trouble.
“Explain. Now.” I glowered at Sky, remaining on my feet, muscles tense and alert.
Staff scattered, hiding behind their counters, while customers fled.
“You’re right. We should move somewhere more private.” Sky rose effortlessly, his movements graceful and smooth. He sauntered toward the door before I could respond and a shaking Kit rose to follow.
I grasped Kit’s elbow. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Kit’s expression was a mix of fear and stubborn loyalty. “He’s my brother. I have to believe he wouldn’t hurt me.”
I didn’t trust Sky’s care for a second, but separating from Kit wasn’t an option.
I was his shadow, whether he was walking into a trap or not.
We followed Sky out of the café at a clip that suggested even Sabbatini muscle had to worry about cops.
A public disturbance meant paperwork or payouts—headaches the Famiglia wouldn’t appreciate.
“I live down here,” Sky called over his shoulder, stalking with an air of importance. I stayed at Kit’s side, ready to scramble for cover if needed.
Sky and his men entered a tall, metallic apartment building in the city center, a monstrosity of windows reaching high into the sky.
Kit followed, and so did I. We entered the elevator in silence, and after eye scans and card swipes, we ascended.
We stopped on Floor 14, and as soon as the doors opened, Sky strode out.
We walked straight into an apartment foyer.
“This way,” Sky said, more to Kit than me.
Kit hesitated before trailing after his brother, shooting a nervous look back at me.
I gave a slight nod. I had his back. This wasn’t the brother Kit had described, the one supposedly backpacking his way across the country on a shoestring budget.
This version, with his Sabbatini guards and penthouse access, was someone else entirely.
I didn’t think Derek knew about this version, either.
Sky led us to a living room that sparkled so brightly it hurt my eyes. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with natural sunlight, and the white and gold décor amplified the expensive atmosphere.
Sky dropped onto a white leather couch with gold arms and patted the spot beside him. “Sit down.”
Kit’s gaze flicked uncertainly around the room as he stepped forward and took the offered seat. I tracked him with my gaze, then moved to stand behind him and the couch. Sky’s bodyguards moved around the room, and I didn’t miss the way they watched me, acknowledging the threat I posed.
“What’s going on, Sky?” Kit asked, his jaw tensing. “This isn’t you.”
“It’s been me for a few years now,” Sky replied with a shrug. “So, you want to know who the Sabbatinis are?”
One of the bodyguards, a man with a brown crew cut and low eyebrows, cleared his throat.
Sky waved his hand impatiently. “It’s fine, Sergei. He’s my brother.” He kept his attention on Kit. “The Sabbatinis are a mob. They run St. Loren.”
Kit’s eyes widened. I watched him process the words and the casual way Sky delivered them without an ounce of fear. “How?” Kit’s voice was a whisper. “How do you know them?”
Sky licked his lips. “I’m with Arrigo Scalia. He’s Riccardo Sabbatini’s cousin.” He dropped the name like it was nothing, but I felt the room’s temperature plummet. Sky wasn’t just in the deep end. He was chained to an anchor.