Chapter 2
Alight dusting of snow covers the driveway leading up to the DeAngelo mansion. It’s early so the sun hasn’t had a chance to melt it from the ground.
“You’re going to be civil,” Alexander, my oldest brother, says as Igor pulls the car up to the front steps.
“Are you asking me or telling me?” I unwrap a hard butterscotch candy and pop it into my mouth.
“Kaz.” Ivan, my other older brother, sighs my name like it exhausts him.
“I’ll be a good boy.” I lean over and toss the scrunched wrapper into the cup holder in the front console.
Igor shoots me a glare through the rearview.
“You can still say no,” Alexander repeats.
He’s reminded me three times since we boarded the plane that brought us here.
“We can find another way to appease everyone,” Ivan adds.
I turn my head to stare at him.
“No.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “What are you cooking up in that head of yours?”
“Nothing. You’re always telling me I need to settle down. I need to take life more seriously. I need to do more for our businesses. This is me, taking your advice.”
Being the youngest in this trio has left me vulnerable to the good-natured advice both of them feel I need to hear. At every turn.
“You’re going to throw away your bachelorhood for this?” Alexander questions, twisting in his front seat to look at me. “If you’re planning to marry this girl then parade your girlfriends all over the place to humiliate her or her family, all you’re going to do is cause another war.”
“I’m not the one who started the first one,” I snap at him.
This isn’t his fault, any more than it’s mine, or Ivan’s. The DeAngelo brothers did this.
I’m no saint. There won’t be any room for me at the gates of heaven. But they’re the scum on the bottom of my shoe.
Correction. They were.
They’re all dead now.
A memory of my little sister flashes in my mind. The blood of her secret boyfriend, Tony, clinging to her cheeks. Tears rolling down her face because he’d betrayed her, thrown her away like some rotten piece of meat. Because he’d hoped to use her to get to us.
Heat simmers beneath my skin. I bite down on the candy, splintering it into several pieces in my mouth.
Humiliating the DeAngelo woman would be too simple a revenge. That family deserves more.
And they’ll get it.
“I’m not a horny teenager, Alexander. You can put away your scowl. We need this truce to be permanent. You’re right. We took them out, and if we want to be sure something worse doesn’t take their place we need a seat at this table.”
“Still.” Ivan unbuckles his seatbelt now that we’re parked. “I’m sure we can find another way.”
“I already said I’d do it.” I let my belt snap into the dispenser. “Let’s get this over with.”
“All right.” Alexander’s the first out of the car, buttoning his jacket as a breeze blows at him.
I expected more ornamental designs on the house; gold trim and half naked statues rising from the gardens. But the entire place has a subdued beauty.
Rose bushes line the front of the house, some still holding onto their ruby red blooms even with the late fall air chilling their petals. A large pot of dark red and orange flowers sits on the top step of the stairs. Simple and elegant.
The door opens the moment we all reach the top of the steps. A man, one of the DeAngelo crew, greets us with a steely gaze and a tense jaw.
“We’re here to see Vicente,” I say, keeping my hands at my sides.
“He’s expecting you.” He steps out of the way, giving us room to enter.
Inside, there’s more simple elegance. Where I expected harsh coloring and gaudy decor, I find soft creams and browns. It’s modern and comfortable. Like a home.
“Ah! They’re here.” An old man hurries, as best as his aged body will allow him, into the foyer.
He finds me in our little entourage and puts out his hand. His smile is too friendly. Too welcoming.
“Kaz Volkov. I am honored to have you in our home.”
Reluctantly, I grab his hand for a firm, quick handshake. He drops his arm to his side and shakes his hand out slightly.
“Vicente.” I give a firm nod. “My brothers, Alexander and Ivan.”
“Yes. Yes.” He pumps their hands as though he’s meeting some form of royalty.
It turns my stomach.
Has he forgotten so quickly why this is all taking place? We shot his nephews. Killed them in cold blood. Does he really have no ill will toward us?
“Well, we don’t need to stand here in the hall. Let’s go into my office.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Alexander says as we follow the old man down the hall.
“I understand. I have business myself shortly. The contracts are all drawn up, we only need to agree and sign.”
As we step into the office, it feels as though we’ve entered into a whole different world. Dark wood paneling lines the walls. Gold trim runs along the edge of each. The ceiling is filled with swirling designs of gold. Each lamp fixture is also gold.
It’s as awful as I thought the house would be. But it only seems to be in here.
“As we discussed, the territories will remain as they were, and you’ll allow our business to flow without disturbance.” Vicente places an envelope on the desk blotter.
“No more pleasure houses.” Ivan’s voice is hard.
Vicente draws in a breath. “You’ve already destroyed half of what my nephews had—”
“Then you have only half left to get rid of.” I step to the front, picking up the envelope.
The papers won’t detail any of the deals we’re making outside of the legal boundaries. Everything in these contracts has to do with the amount of the DeAngelo legitimate businesses we will receive upon the marriage taking place between me and their little princess.
She’s probably spoiled rotten. Nose high in the air, high demands for a lifestyle she doesn’t deserve. None of these bastards deserve anything other than to rot in the gutter.
It’s going to be fun dismantling everything. Brick by brick.
Starting with their precious girl.
“That’s not what was discussed previously.” Vicente lowers his chin.
Is he trying to negotiate?
I glance over the contract. A simple ten percent in several of their retail chains, a more progressive cut of their nightclubs here in New York. We’ll be making good money.
So long as the marriage goes through. And stands.
No divorce.
It’s the last clause. If we ever divorce, the entire contract voids. We lose everything we’ve gained.
That’s fine. When I’m done destroying everything I set my eyes on, I’ll decide if it’s worth keeping the woman around or not. Maybe tossing her back to her family, used and worthless, is the best revenge yet.
It’s how Elana sees herself right now.
It’s why she’s gone. Flying herself halfway around the world to get away from us. Trying to outrun guilt that isn’t hers to carry.
She was tricked.
Stolen from us with the promise of love that fucking Tony DeAngelo never had for her.
The moment she learned the truth, when she saw his phone, read his texts and saw for herself that he’d been using her, is burned into my memory.
The paper crinkles in my fist. Ivan yanks it from my hand and puts it back on the desk.
“Have the new condition added, then we’ll sign. We’ll send someone by tomorrow morning for the revised copy,” Ivan says dropping the papers back onto the desk.
“Is the girl here?” I find myself asking.
Vicente’s neutral expression hardens.
“No. I’m afraid Sienna is out at the moment. Some last-minute shopping for the wedding. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to meet her beforehand. I can have her back here within the hour if you’d like.”
There’s something about the way he says her name that catches my attention. Almost like it tastes bad.
“No. Don’t bother.” I slide my hands into my pockets.
“There’re no photographs of the family,” Ivan says looking around the office. “No family portrait, even.”
He’s right. Not so much as a photograph. I have no idea what this woman even looks like.
It doesn’t matter; we’re doomed to say our vows two afternoons from today.
“This was Marco’s office. He liked to keep things purely business in here. Sienna decorated the rest of the house. I’m sure she’ll keep your home as you like it. She’ll be a good wife,” Vicente says. “She won’t cause trouble for you.”
“You’re not at all concerned what sort of husband I might be to her?” I question.
He’s her uncle, for Christ’s sake. Her brothers were murdered. He’s making her marry one of the men responsible, and he doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass how I’ll treat her. I wonder if she was even given a choice in this.
That’s a lie.
I’m sure she wasn’t given one.
And I don’t care.
But her uncle sure as shit should.
Vicente raises his chin. “I have every confidence you’ll treat her as she deserves.”
What does that even fucking mean? Is this prick hoping I’ll take care of her the way I took care of her brothers?
I’m going to check those papers again and make sure there isn’t some clause that grants him a fortune should something horrible happen to his little niece.
The air thickens as the silence stretches.
“Tomorrow, then.” Ivan puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes.” Vicente nods quickly.
“Tomorrow,” I agree.
We make our way out of the office, Vicente right on our heels yammering about the luncheon reception and other details I could not care less about. As far as I’m concerned, we can exchange vows on the tarmac at the airport. I have no need for a church and all the trimmings.
But the pretense that a true truce has taken place is in order. Vicente has bigger men to appease back home in Italy, and I have my sister to avenge.
I can stand a few hours of pomp and circumstance.
As we walk through the house to the front doors, I take note of the continued lack of photographs even in the hallways. While the place has a warmth that the over-the-top office didn’t, there’s no sign of a family living here.
“Who lives here besides Sienna?” I ask when we reach the door.
Vicente’s eyes widen, like he’s not sure how to answer me.
“Well, just her at the moment. This is our family home. The boys lived here when they were in town, usually a few months of the year. But now—” He clears his throat and pauses. “Now it’s just her.”
“Hmm.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Interesting.”
I open the front door and jog down the steps to our car idling for us. As I open the front passenger door, an eerie feeling creeps up my back. Like I’m being watched.
I turn to the front door; Vicente is talking with Alexander while Ivan nods along. The front windows of the house are all empty. I tilt my head back, looking up at the windows on the second floor.
A curtain moves, as though it’s just been dropped back into place. I wait a long moment, staring at the window.
When nothing appears, I climb into the car and slam the door shut.
“Do you think they’ll actually shut down the houses?” Ivan questions as soon as his door is shut and he and Alexander are back in the car.
“Unless the old man wants another war on his hands, they had better. I have a feeling he’s getting pressure from back home to make this problem go away.”
Igor pulls away from the mansion, driving down the long road and though the gates.
“I’m surprised you didn’t demand she be brought in front of you, Kaz.” Alexander chuckles.
I check my phone and answer a text message about the evening’s events.
“I have one more night before I have to look at the same woman for the rest of my life. I’m in no hurry.”
My phone goes off again.
“The girls are going to get antsy if they have to stay in the hotel much longer. Let’s take them out tonight. Dinner at least.” Ivan breaks the silence in the car moments later.
“I can’t.” I tap on my phone.
“They’re here for your wedding; you can’t come to dinner?” Alexander chides in the annoying big brother tone of his.
“No. I can’t. You take your wives out.”
“What are you going to be doing?” Ivan asks.
I check the new message coming through.
“Enjoying my last few nights of freedom.”