16. Luca
Ichuckle at the photo she sends through. So defiant—even when it does cloud her judgement. I want to break her down in every way in order to fully submit to me.
Classical music plays in the background as I look through the photos taken of Ara over the past few days. There are photos of when she met with friends for breakfast this morning. I know the faces, and it makes no sense for her to be associated with them. She’s integrated into her role and the city well. I wonder why she bothers with the friend circle and Daddy’s business when she’s clearly here for something else? Is it all a cover up for her shady little side hustle?
The mansion’s office space is vast, consuming my brother, Dario, who nervously sits across from me. I can’t recall the last time my brother and I shared the same room. I prefer my personal apartment, whereas Dario prefers to stay in the family mansion. That suits us both. I only come here when it’s necessary.
Lorenzo stands behind me, and Dario is restless in my presence, fidgeting in his chair. He doesn’t seem interested in the photos, nor does he seem to recognize her from the first night she stepped foot into our mansion by using him. My jaw clenches at the thought of Dario touching her. Especially when those poisonous little lips were clearly made for my cock.
“When will Ivan be returning? I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to in Italy, don’t you?” Dario finally asks. He’s never been someone who can sit in silence.
I light a cigar, leaning back and blowing it in his direction thoughtfully.
“Do you recognize this woman?” I ask, throwing a photo at him. His eyebrows knit in confusion, but he takes the photo and looks at it and then me, brows raised.
He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s an image of Ara leaving her apartment complex.
“No. I mean anything’s possible, but you know I like blondes.”
I blow more smoke, trying to suppress the immediate rage surfacing from his casual reply. Dario seems to pick up on the shift.
“No, I don’t know her. Why, who is she?” Dario asks.
I stare at him long enough that he looks like he’s about to apologize for something despite not knowing why. We might share blood, but I have no respect or fondness for my brother. He’s already used that brotherly love card once, and it left me with a big fucking mess to clean up afterward. In every sense, he owes me. But time and time again, he lets his substance and alcohol consumption change him. No matter how many attempts at some kind of rehabilitation, he’s always failed. He’s nothing but a fucking liability, which is why I never let him handle business matters.
However, with Ara it’s personal. She’s an obvious candidate who might be a part of the scheme to steal my shipment, considering the timing of finding her in my family mansion. I don’t believe Alexander Barone has the balls to cross us. It’s obvious his daughter is no puppet either. I confirmed as much last night while watching the two interact. The father-daughter duo had their own tensions to shift through.
“I’ve come here to clean up a mess. Until I’m at the bottom of it, Ivan will remain in Italy to deal with matters there.” The only reason why he wants Ivan back is because he lets my brother do whatever he pleases. Had my brother not been so incompetent at trade, negotiation, and deals, I wouldn’t have to rely on my father’s former second in command. Not that he’s alive anymore; he can no longer disapprove of Dario’s lack of contribution toward the family name, so I just removed him almost entirely.
“Mess?” He seems confused. “Does it have something to do with this woman?”
“No. Nor are you ever to approach this woman. She’s mine.”
He flinches under the harshness of my tone. Last time, I’d expected more than only two men to take the dangling bait. This means those who are targeting my drugs are either familiar with our process or overly cautious. Rightly so, considering I have my hounds waiting for them. I’ve still extracted very little information from them, despite some of my favorite torture methods. No matter how much the last one squealed as I persuaded every drop out of him. All I was left with was the knowledge that their leader had a slight Russian accent.
Considering we’ve smothered the Russians to barely anything within the city, it either means they’re being cautious or someone new is on the playing field. Either way, information is being leaked from somewhere within my circle.
“Is there something I can do?” Dario asks, almost hopefully.
I put the cigar out.
“You’re friends with Dmitri Volkov, aren’t you?”
He seems confused. “Well, we’ve hung out and partied some, yeah. I wouldn’t consider us friends per say, but—” Realization dawns on him. “Why do you think he has something to do with this?”
I shrug. He is a Russian cub. Or more like an abandoned little Bratva prince—one I’ve checked on frequently to make sure he doesn’t take up in Daddy’s footsteps. But his association with Ara needs to be managed.
“I need you to tell me the places he often frequents,” I demand from my brother.
I could find the information out myself, but it might take a few days longer than I’d like. I’m not one to create formal meetings unless they’re coming to me.
My brother seems confused but says, “Sure. I’ll get you a few place’s names.”
“Good. You can leave now,” I say, dismissing him.
He looks over my shoulder at Lorenzo, who stands stoically and says nothing. “Brother, please. I swear to you I’m not drinking as much, and I don’t know. I feel a lot clearer lately, and I really want to help. I know you hate me but please consider—”
“Leave.” I let the lethal edge slip. An unsaid memory passes between us. Where this all started. The mess he had created for me. How his life was based on the small thread I allow. If it weren’t for me, he’d be dead.
Dario’s throat tightens as he swallows, his jaw clenched. He does as he’s told because he and I both know the truth. The only reason he’s breathing is because of me. He’s lucky I tolerate him at best.
Lorenzo and I watch as Dario leaves and closes the door behind him.
“Do you really think Dmitri Volkov has something to do with this?” Lorenzo asks.
I pick up the photo of Dmitri entering Ara’s office building. I noted the way they briefly interacted at the dinner, they might’ve been acquainted. The fact he went to her office the next day means he’s either extremely stupid or it was as good as a calling card to get my attention. Surely even he knows once I claim something as mine, I won’t let it roam freely or without my watch.
“Anything’s possible.”
I need to explore all avenues and find the one that will lead me back to my leak.
I pick up my phone, expecting another message from Ara.
Nothing.
My jaw tics.
I’ll make sure I’m the only thing she thinks of every second of the day.
And if the only way I can get a response from her is to antagonize her…
Then so be it.