9. Tino
Chapter 9
Tino
The men my father has sent me include two of his highest-ranking soldiers, Leon and Diego. Leon in particular is as deadly a motherfucker as I’ve ever met.
He looks at me, taking me in. “Good to see you, Mr. Martinez.” He extends his hand to shake mine, his grip firm. “Your father says there’s a situation here needs handling.”
“Yes, someone has something of mine. I want to get her back.”
“Her?” Diego’s face splits into a wide grin. “You found yourself a woman?”
“Yes, I did.” I don’t tell them I share that woman with two other men. In my culture, that’s a hanging offense. They’d as likely kill me as they would Stepanov and his men.
“Well, well, well, maybe there will be a wedding soon.”
His words hit me deep. There won’t be a wedding because how can she marry only one of us? I’d love to marry her and make her truly mine—to call her my wife—but she’s not mine , she’s ours , and there’s no law where we can all marry her.
I glance over at the rest of the men. Seven of them, all of fighting age. I grin when they unload the crates from the back of the private plane. This is a rarely used airstrip, and my father said he’d been given the promise of people looking the other way while we unloaded.
“There are some gifts from your father.” Diego points to the crates. “He organized some vehicles, too, for us to transport these in.”
“Let me guess, less cigars and brandy, and more guns and grenades?” I laugh, despite the situation.
“You guessed right.”
I don’t like my father. I’m not sure I ever will, but right now, in this moment, I’m fucking grateful to him.
As the men load up the two Land Rovers that are waiting courtesy of my father, engines idling, I glance around me, making sure no one is watching.
Then I place a call.
Dom answers immediately. “Yeah?”
“You’re going to need to give your dad a head’s up. We’re coming in heavy. I need waving through security. We have a lot of weapons. Is he going to allow that?”
Nataniele would never allow anyone else onto his grounds armed to the teeth this way. By letting me in with these men and the weapons they’ve brought, he potentially puts himself and the school in harm’s way. It means he trusts me.
I’ve basically got my own small militia unit now.
The power sends a tingling thrill down my spine. One day, everything my father owns will be mine. Not merely wealth, but enough men and firepower to take over a small nation. That’s why my father never moved to America, and never let my mother take me and my sister back to her birth nation. Once you live here, you must start playing by their rules.
Nataniele’s power is as much soft power as it is hard. It’s as dependent on having the right senator in your pocket, and the right police chief reporting to you, as it is on the number of armed men working for you. I don’t have the time or inclination for the schmoozing that entails.
This is how my family does things.
We kick down doors and go in guns blazing.
I suspect it’s the kind of language Stepanov understands best.
My injuries are screaming at me today, and I can’t be distracted. I discreetly pop a couple of pills. I tell myself it’s different this time. I’ll only take the Oxy until we’ve got our Duchess back. Then I’ll stop. I just need to be on my A-game. I can’t let her down, and if that means using the crutch of the pain meds just for a few days, so be it.
This isn’t like before. I’m not using them to deal with emotional shit. This is purely pain relief, and I’m in control this time, not the pills.
“I’ll talk to him and call you back in five.” Dom hangs up.
When my phone buzzes, I pick up right away. “Yes?”
“He says come to the back entrance, the staff one Kirill left from. Drive into the parking lot on the other side of the stables. His men will greet you.”
“Of course.”
I could get bent out of shape about being made to use the staff entrance, the way I’m sure my father would in these circumstances, and start demanding my due respect, but this is about our Duchess, not about me. I wave Leon and Diego over.
“We need to take the Land Rovers in the back way. Nataniele, the dean, is going to have his men come and meet us there. They’ll want to inspect the vehicles, so let them. This isn’t about a dick swinging contest. This is about getting Mackenzie back alive. We need to work with Nataniele on this. I’ll go ahead in my car, and you guys follow me.”
“You’re the boss,” Leon says.
Those words make me feel the weight of the situation. This isn’t a game and, if I fuck up, I could get Duchess or Kirill killed.
I’m sure Dom is feeling the same way.
We need to bring our friend home, and our Duchess, too. Then we need to go scorched earth. None of her enemies can be left alive, presenting a threat to her.
As the men get into the Land Rovers and I slide into the driver’s seat of my car, I think about the future. In one way, the compound in Buenos Aires would be a safe place for our Duchess because she’d be surrounded by guards. In another, not so much, because there are always rival groups willing to risk everything to take it over.
Would anywhere be safe?
The college, maybe, but Dom isn’t going to want to spend his life on campus with his dad breathing down his neck. And everyone would see we’re a foursome at some point, and that would cause so much shit. Hell, if Dom’s dad marries Lucia, we would have to leave, because no way would anyone accept him and Kenzie together.
Shit. This is all such a fucking mess.
I jiggle my leg and feel for the pill bottle in my pocket.
The reassurance of the smooth plastic calms me.
I can do this.
We can do this.