Chapter 30
The restaurant Keith pulls into is nestled in the middle of the Gold Coast.
“Keith, this is like a really expensive part of the city,” I say as he turns into the valet line. “Where’d you get this car, anyway?”
I run my hand over the leather exterior of the Lexus sedan. They didn’t even have a car before this all happened, and now they’re driving around in tailored suits and a luxury vehicle?
The sour feeling that started after I climbed into the back of the car outside the bookstore has spread throughout my whole body.
Something isn’t right.
“Yeah. We got it.” Keith peers at me through the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry, you look good. This fancy clothes your Russian mobster gave you are nice.”
Joey nudges Keith. “Leave her alone, already.”
We pull up to valet, and my door is opened before I can even reach for the handle. I’m helped out, and then the door is shut. Joey and Keith flank me on either side, leading me up the three steps into the Italian Restaurant.
It’s almost as nice as Lev’s restaurant, but there’s less of a warm atmosphere here. It’s all crisp and sharp. Silverware clanks against plates, and glasses clink together in the background, but there’s no merriment. These people aren’t celebrating their lives; they’re trying to survive it.
As they lead me to the back of the restaurant, I get a glimpse of the emblem embroidered on the edge of a tablecloth.
We’re in a DeAngelo restaurant.
I freeze.
“What’s wrong?” Keith demands, trying to pull me along.
“Keith. Why are we here?”
“Dinner. I’m starving.” He gestures with his head. “C’mon, we got a table in the back.”
“Can’t we go somewhere else? Somewhere less…”
“No, they have great food.” Joey promises, but his eyes aren’t meeting mine. His attention flickers to the hallway. “C’mon. You’re going to love the clams.”
“Clams? I’ve never even had clams,” I say, letting them pull me along down a hallway.
We pass the restroom and continue further until the hallway opens to a second lounge area. There are five tables in this room. The largest seats six, and there are already four people sitting at it.
Elana is one of them.
My mouth goes dry when her eyes meet mine. Tears shimmer on the edge of her eyelids.
Something is very wrong here.
“Elana?” I barely get her name out before the door behind me slams shut.
“Ah, good. Everyone’s almost here.” Through another entrance, two more men step inside the room.
The taller of the two rubs his palms together.
Elana lowers her eyes to the table setting in front of her.
“Marco.” The man sitting beside her, Tony, I assume, tries to get up, but the taller of the new men puts his hand up.
“Quiet, Tony. Just stay still.” He walks across the room to the table and pulls out a chair beside Elana. “Here. The Russian bitch can sit here.”
My muscles tighten.
“She’s not Russian.” Joey says, but he nudges me forward to the chair. “Just sit, Max. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“What have you done, Joey?” I ask him as I sink into the chair.
Before he can answer me, Keith grabs him by the arm and pulls him to stand along the wall behind me.
I twist, needing to see them, needing to try and figure out what’s happening. And why.
Why would they bring me here?
A gentle hand grips mine, squeezing lightly until I turn back around.
Elana gives a weak smile. “Hey.”
“Elana. What’s going on?”
“Yes, Elana. Why don’t you enlighten everyone about what’s happening here.” A sick grin twists Marco’s lips as he comes to the table. The shorter version of him follows behind, his expression bland.
Like this is any other ordinary day. Nothing strange here. Just five people sitting at a table looking like they’re waiting for the executioner to arrive.
The two men sitting across the table from us don’t meet my eyes.
They keep their focus on the center of the table.
Where a photograph of a young woman, dark hair and eyes.
She’s tied to a pole, her clothes in tatters.
One breast hangs loose through a tear in her dress.
A bruise covers her left cheek. Makeup ruined by tears stains her face.
They both stare at it.
“Oh, that?” Marco reaches for the photo and lifts it, smiling with satisfaction at it before dropping it back on the table. “That’s Ani. His daughter.” He jerks his chin toward the man sitting across from me.
The older of the two men snaps his eyes to Marco’s, anger brews there, but fear as well. And it’s the terror that is filling the air. It’s rolling off the older man as well.
“You assholes really thought you could go behind my back.” Marco flattens his hands on the table, shaking his head like he’s shocked.
“Marco. Let the women go,” Tony says from beside Elana. “This is between us.”
“No. Not quite,” He sneers. “You, little brother, dragged poor Ani into it when you went to the Armenians. And then you dragged Milo Brankovich in, thinking you were going to be a big man with all the deals to make.”
I look around the room. There’s just us, no one else, so where are they? Where are these other people he’s talking about?
“Well, we took care of them already.” He stands up, slapping his hands together. “Now we just have you.”
Elana squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
I hold her tight. “Why are we here?”
“You.” Marco snaps his fingers and points to my brothers. “Did he follow?”
Keith is the first to speak up. “One of his men was there, I’m sure he let Lev know. He followed us in the car, probably still outside. Afraid to come in.”
It hits me. I’m the bait.
“You brought me here to lure Lev?” I accuse Keith.
Joey has a thin sheen of sweat over his lip. A bead of it rolls down the side of his face.
“He’ll come; don’t worry,” Keith says with confidence.
Air won’t come. An ache so large and so overwhelming fills my chest I can barely register anything other than the pain.
My brothers have brought me here to use me.
“I hope for your sake you’re right.” Marco cups my chin, dragging me to face him. “Cause if her little lover boy doesn’t show up here, with those fucking Russians with him, your little sister here is going to have a spot in the room right next to Ani.”
He shoves my face away and I bump into Elana.
“She’s not our sister,” Keith says. His voice turns hard.
“Keith,” Joey snaps. “What the fuck, man?”
“I don’t really care either way.” Marco shrugs and turns away.
Tears fill my eyes, but I wipe them away before they can fall.
“You’re counting on Lev and Elana’s brothers to come here, and then what happens?” I thrust my chin forward. “You’re going to gun them down?”
There’s a gun strapped to his hip.
“If I have to.” Marco checks his watch. “But they’re taking their slow ass time. Michael, go up front and see if they’ve been spotted. Maybe they’re trying to play heroes.”
“Yeah.” Michael gives Elana and me one more glance, then leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Marco drags out the last empty chair and sits down, crossing his legs and pulling out his phone. He’s just going to scroll away while we’re sitting here waiting for either our lives to end, or the lives of those we love to be taken away.
Love.
I do love him. I love all of them. The Volkovs, Elana, and Lev. They’ve all been so welcoming, so caring. They’ve enveloped me in their little circle without ever asking for anything in return.
Flicking away another tear, I look to Elana. She’s staring straight ahead again. Tony, sitting beside her, isn’t even trying to comfort her.
“Elana,” I whisper, leaning toward her. “I don’t understand.”
She gives a faint smile. “Tony decided he not only wanted in the family business, but he also wanted to take over,” she whispers.
“So, he’s been working behind Marco’s back—behind my back—to make deals with other families.
Marco and Michael found out, and now we’re all here waiting for my brothers and Lev to show up so Marco can take care of everyone at one time. ”
“Why would they come in here; they have to know Marco wants them dead.”
“Because my brothers would do anything to keep me safe.” Her brows pull together. “Even when they find out about my relationship with Tony; they’ll come for me. And Lev will do the same for you.”
“Because they’d burn the world to the ground to keep us safe.” As the words fall from my lips, my soul soaks them in.
They’re not just words printed on a romance novel poster, or flashing on some social media post. They’re real. They’re true.
This morning was my last morning with Lev, and I wasted it being pissed because he’d been keeping things from me. He’d been trying to keep me safe by keeping me in the dark.
“Marco wants to kill them all,” Elana whispers.
“Oh, not all of them.” Marco interjects into our conversation. “The Russians, yeah, they need to go. But Vartan and his boy here…they’ll be fine. And so long as they do what I tell them, Ani will walk away unscathed, too.”
“Marco, you’ve lost your fucking mind,” Tony snaps.
“You, stupid brother, however, are still uncertain. See, if I kill you, our uncle is going to be pissed. Even though you’re a traitor. If I kill her though,” he swings his eyes to Elana. “I suppose that would be punishment enough—you watching your little girlfriend die—that could work.”
“You don’t think Uncle Vicente will be pissed that you’ve taken out the Russians?”
“Why?” Marco lifts a shoulder. “He wants this little feud to be over, anyway. I get rid of them, it’s over.”
“So, you get rid of them, then we can start over. I’ll take a backseat. Fall in line.” Tony promises with a tremor in his voice.
“Even though I’m going to take out your little girl here?”
Tony doesn’t hesitate. “I was finished with her, anyway.”
Elana jerks back like she’s been slapped.
“I have bigger plans than getting married and popping out a bunch of kids,” he says, his demeanor strengthening. He doesn’t even look at Elana.
The door opens, and Michael walks in; behind him file Lev and Vas.
“Oh, good.” Marco laughs. “But where’re the Volkovs?”
Michael swallows. “They didn’t come.”
Elana’s pain rolls off her, mingling with my own.
I guess we both have brothers who have disappointed us.
“Let Maxine go, Marco.” Lev demands.
Just like him to barge into a room and take over everything. Doesn’t he see he doesn’t have the upper hand here? He can’t simply bark orders and expect the men with the guns to get in line.
“Not yet.” Marco shakes his head. “Keith, get your sister, put her against the wall there and strip her down. I think I might want to have some fun before we get started with the negotiations.”
Michael pulls his gun from his holster when Lev looks ready to lunge and presses it into his side.
“Keith, no.” Joey tries to grab Keith, but he’s already moving.
“Let’s go.” Keith yanks me from my chair.
“Keith, don’t do this. Don’t. Please, I’m your sister. How can you?” I beg him as my heavy feet drag over to the spot Marco ordered.
Keith looks me in the eyes and for a moment, I think this whole thing has been a farce. He’s been playing Marco.
“For fuck’s sake, Maxine. You’re not our sister. You’re just the stupid girl who did whatever we asked her to do. We let you say that; we let you think that, because you were good at helping us. That’s all.”
As he reaches for the neckline of my shirt, I drive my knee up.
He drops like a sack of potatoes.
The lights go out, casting everything into darkness. A loud bang, like a firecracker, goes off. An order bellowed; I can’t tell which language it’s in.
Another bang.
A crack, followed by a bright flash.
I lunge forward, thinking to rush toward the direction Lev was in, but a hand clamps around my throat.
I’m dragged against the wall.