Chapter 10 Alessio
ALESSIO
The twins are crying in the backseat like they know something’s wrong.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying not to let the sound get under my skin while Paige texts Dario from the passenger seat.
My cousin’s wife looks about as stressed as I feel, which is saying something.
When Dario called an hour ago, his voice was clipped and urgent.
Get Paige and their boys to the safehouse. Now.
The fucking Bratva made their move.
“Dario says Paolo and Quinn just arrived,” Paige says, not looking up from her phone. “He says to watch out for the bikers.”
No shit. As if I wasn’t already scanning every car we pass for threats.
Turns out the Russians got creative. While we’ve been cozying up to the cartel, Kozlov formed his own little alliance with some motorcycle club from San Jose.
The Devil’s Brood MC, according to our intel.
Kozlov promised them a custom clubhouse and a fat stack of cash if they’d relocate to Vegas and play muscle for the Bratva until this war is over.
Smart bastard.
The bikers aren’t as organized as the cartel, but they’re vicious. Today they went straight for the family. Lorenzo and Dario were walking into their hotel when the ambush hit. If my uncle hadn’t insisted on traveling with security after what happened to Mia, they’d probably be dead right now.
“Your mom made it to the safehouse too,” Paige adds, and some of the tension bleeds out of my shoulders.
I wanted to collect Antonia myself, but she’s stubborn as hell. Told me to focus on getting Paige and the twins safe while her own security handled the rest. Sometimes I forget she grew up in this life just like the rest of us.
The city fades behind us as I take a sharp right toward the desert.
The safehouse sits isolated on the edge of nowhere, surrounded by empty land that makes it impossible for anyone to sneak up on us.
It’s a sprawling place with enough bedrooms for the whole family, though we’ve never needed it for more than a night or two.
The driveway’s packed with cars, so I park in the grass and help Paige by carrying one of the twins inside. The little guy has an N stitched on his hat. Nico. His pacifier fell into his lap, so I slip it between his lips. Finally, blessed silence.
Dario’s already pulling Paige into his arms when we walk through the door. He buries his face in her neck, and she makes this small, broken sound that tells me she’s crying. I look away and head for the great room where the rest of the family’s gathered.
I set Nico’s car seat next to Santino on the couch. Lorenzo’s consigliere and longtime friend might not be blood, but he’s family where it counts.
My mom appears at my elbow, giving me that quick once-over she’s been doing since I was a kid. “You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine, Ma.” I kiss her cheek. “I wanted to come get you myself.”
“My security knows what they’re doing.” Antonia squeezes my arm once before moving back to where she was sitting. She’s tough as nails, but I catch the relief in her eyes. We’re all rattled by today.
“Where’s Luca?” I ask, noticing he’s the only one missing.
“Five minutes out,” Dario says, following me into the room. Paige trails behind him, eyes red but composed again.
The room smells like antiseptic and blood. Lorenzo’s sitting in a chair while Mia fusses over a nasty cut on his forearm. Blood’s soaked through the makeshift bandage someone wrapped around it.
For half a second, I wonder what it would feel like to have someone look at me like that. Like my life mattered beyond the cash I stack or the bodies I leave behind. Uninvited, Nina’s face flashes in my head, and I hate myself for it. She’s the last person who should matter.
I force the thought down and turn to Lorenzo. “Those fuckers get a piece of you?”
My uncle flexes his blood-slicked hand like it’s no big deal, even as Mia glares at him for moving.
“Impatient bastards broke my window before I even got out of the car.” He winces as Mia cleans the wound. “Tried to drag me out by the arm. Got cut up on the glass, but I put a bullet between the leader’s eyes, so I’d say I came out ahead.”
He chuckles like it’s nothing, but Mia’s face is tight with worry.
“You need stitches,” she bites out. “This is deep.”
“Later. Business first.”
“Stubborn ass,” Mia mutters, but she finishes bandaging him up before taking one of the baby carriers from Paige.
“Take Paige to our room?” Dario asks, and Mia nods, leading his wife out of the room with both twins.
Lorenzo sighs once they’re gone. “Mia thought the worst was behind us with the Bratva.”
“So did Paige.” Dario’s jaw is tight. “But we knew better.”
The door opens and Luca walks in with Matteo. They must have been together when the call came in. Matteo’s not family either, but he’s solid. No one minds him being here.
“Any casualties on our end?” Luca asks, scanning the room.
“One of my guards. Alec.” Lorenzo moves to the wet bar and pours himself three fingers of whiskey. “Guy’s got four kids.”
No one speaks. Paolo drags a hand over his face, jaw locked, while Matteo’s shoulders bunch tight against the wall. Even Luca stops fidgeting, still for once, the silence heavy.
The silence is broken only by the creak of Paolo’s shoes on the floorboards, restless, the sound loud in a room this tense.
Luca drops onto the couch next to Santino. I take the chair beside Lorenzo while Dario pulls an ottoman close to where Matteo’s standing. Everyone’s on edge, ready for trouble.
“What the fuck are we going to do about this?” Luca springs back to his feet, fists clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to hold onto his temper and failing.
“These bastards targeted the family directly. We should hit back. Take out one of Kozlov’s kids, show him what happens when he fucks with us. ”
“Who?” Paolo stops pacing, like he’s actually considering it.
“He’s got a son,” Santino says. “That would send a message.”
“Nikolai would be hard to reach,” Matteo chimes in. “He’s deep in the organization but doesn’t run any businesses. We’d have to get creative.”
“What about the daughter?” Paolo asks.
“Wait.” Dario’s voice cuts through the planning like a blade. “Let’s slow down. I get wanting revenge. What they tried to do pisses me off, too. But we shouldn’t go after his children immediately. We need to focus on defense first.”
“Seriously?” Luca stares at him like he’s lost his mind. “This bastard put hits on our whole family. You know Nico and Leone were on that list, right?”
Dario doesn’t rise to the bait. Just leans forward, elbows on his knees, gaze cutting sharper than any raised voice. “Of course I know. And I’ll tear Kozlov apart if I get the chance. But we need to be smart, not emotional.”
“I agree,” Lorenzo says, downing his whiskey in one swallow.
Luca throws his hands up. “I don’t understand why you don’t want revenge.”
“We do.” Lorenzo’s hands curl into fists on his thighs, and for a moment he looks every inch the killer he is. “But taking unnecessary risks gets people killed. Like the men who attacked me today.”
This is why Dario’s set to replace Lorenzo as don someday. It’s not just because he’s the oldest son. He has the right temperament. Luca’s always been too quick to anger, too ready to act without thinking.
“We need to increase security everywhere,” Dario says. “Will Miguel send more men?”
Lorenzo nods. “He’ll do anything to keep Mia safe.”
“We should call him today.” Dario turns to Matteo. “Viktor Ilyin was part of the group that hit us.”
Matteo goes rigid. Anger flashes in his eyes, and he takes a slow breath before answering. “Shame he survived.”
“I winged him,” Lorenzo says. “Took a chunk out of his leg, but the bastard got away.”
“You got beef with that stronzo?” Paolo asks.
“He’s the one who shot Matteo three years ago,” I explain when Matteo doesn’t respond. Their rivalry goes back a decade, but that hospital stay really got under Matteo’s skin.
“He’s probably the connection between the Bratva and the MC,” Dario adds. “His cousin’s one of the bikers.”
The rage rolling off Matteo is almost tangible. We all hate the Bratva, and today’s attack made it personal for everyone. But for Matteo, this is deeper. Viktor’s been a thorn in his side for years.
“Keep your eyes open,” Lorenzo tells him.
“If Viktor’s connected to the MC, you’re probably as much of a target as we are.
” His gaze sweeps over the rest of us. “Other than that, we go about business as usual. Report any biker activity like you have been with the Bratva. Women and children stay here until Miguel sends reinforcements. Right now we gather intel, play defense, and plan. Nobody acts against the Bratva without direct provocation.”
His eyes linger on Luca during that last part.
“Don’t worry about me,” Luca says, pushing to his feet. “I’ll keep my head down like a good boy.”
He yanks the door open hard enough the frame rattles, then storms out. The meeting dissolves in his wake.
I get Luca’s frustration. It’s hard to sit on our hands when we want blood. The lack of outlet for all this anger is eating at me, too.
That feeling follows me as I drive to the strip club. There’s about an hour until we open, and the staff’s just arriving when I walk through the doors. I call everyone together for a quick meeting.
The dancers cluster on my right, servers and bartenders on the left. The bouncers line up behind everyone else like a wall of muscle.
I’ve already decided to beef up security here. The Bratva has a history of hitting our legitimate businesses, and the staff’s going to notice the changes.
“There’s going to be increased security for a while,” I tell them. “More bouncers on every shift, overtime pay doubled. I’ll have extra men around too, but they won’t bother you.”
“Why?” Katrina asks. I can see the worry on everyone’s faces.
“Just a precaution.”
“But why?” one of the other strippers presses. She’s standing next to Nina, who I’m very deliberately not looking at.
“There’s been some crime in the area. I want to make sure you’re all safe.”
I’m not sure they buy it, but when I dismiss them, everyone scatters to get ready. Everyone except Nina.
She steps into my path as I head for the office, biting her bottom lip in a way that sends an unwelcome surge of heat through me. This is the worst possible time to be thinking about how that mouth would feel.
“Alessio, what’s really going on? What’s the threat?”
“I told everyone already. It’s just a precaution.”
“Really? You seem worried.”
I scoff, the sound harsh. “You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart. And you don’t need to. Go get ready, the club opens soon. We don’t have anything to talk about.”
She looks like I slapped her. Guilt twists through me as she disappears into the dressing room, but it’s better this way. Better she hates me than tempts me into wanting more.
Wanting her is weakness. And weakness has no place in my world.
So why the hell can’t I stop?