51. Basilio
Basilio
T he next morning, I ordered one of Emory’s guards to bring Wynter to the dining room. Dante, Emory, and Priest were already seated around the table, the tension in the air so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
A shared glance by Dante and Emory didn’t escape me. “What?” I barked.
Dante cocked his eyebrow unperturbed. “I didn’t say shit.”
“But you thought it,” Emory snickered.
“So did you,” Dante told her.
“Would you two stop bickering like babies?” I snapped. “And tell me what’s on your mind.”
Emory shrugged. “I got a heads up that Brennan is fifteen minutes away. He’s coming for her.”
“How did he find her so fast?” I knew it was only a matter of time, but I hoped it would take him longer.
“Nico Morrelli,” Dante said.
“Goddamn it, we need to find a way to block that old man,” I spat out annoyed. “Or work with him.”
“It was stupid to kidnap her,” Priest argued, his expression murderous. “It wasn’t right, Basilio.”
My narrowed gaze found his.
“Mind your own fucking business.” I had never gone head-to-head with Dante nor Priest. But if they tried to take Wynter from me, I would. Nobody would fucking take her from me again. Nobody.
Priest shot up to his feet at the same time as I did. “She’s my fucking sister. That changes everything.”
I got into Priest’s face while a burn radiated in my chest. “And she’s my woman,” I roared. “I swear to God, Priest. You touch her and I’ll read you your own last goddamn rites.“
Dante and Emory shared a glance, but they refused to interfere. Though we all knew if it came down to it, Emory would take my side and Dante would take Priest’s.
“You’re fucking blind when it comes to her.” Priest refused to back down. Not that I expected him to. “You’re so fucking obsessed you can’t see the girl is scared of you. I won’t let you hurt her.”
My body slammed into Priest’s and the dishes on the table rattled. “I’d rather slice my dick off than hurt her,” I hissed. “You suggest anything like it again and I’ll fucking end you.”
In our entire life, I had never had disagreements with Priest or Dante. Ever! Until today. And it all boiled down to Wynter. Priest was right, I was obsessed with her. In fact, it was so much more than just an obsession. It was madness. It was love.
I loved her so fucking much. Life without her wasn’t an option. She loved me once. I’d make her love me again.
Fuck, I was in so deep, I had no way of coming up for air.
“Basilio, she’s related to Brennan and the Pakhan. She has some crazy Russian fucker for a bodyguard and she’s a celebrity,” Dante chimed in from his spot, though his tense shoulders didn’t escape my notice.
“Did I ask for your opinion?” I snarled. “Wynter’s staying with me. Anywhere I go, she comes along.” I locked eyes with Priest. “Understood?”
He was silent. One second. Two seconds.
He nodded. “But if you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill your ass. Cousin or no. Understood?” he threatened.
“Fair enough.” I took a step back.
“You all are missing the point that Priest is related to the Pakhan too,” Emory drawled. “And if the three of you morons hurt her, I’ll kill you all.”
“Let’s all relax,” Dante the peacemaker announced. “We have to work together, especially now that we have visitors coming.”
“Basilio, does Wynter know she’ll be your glue for the rest of your life?” Emory muttered, warning clear in her eyes. “You have to give her a choice.”
My jaw clenched and my mood darkened. The fact was that Wynter would run if she was given the chance. I didn’t need a mind reader for that. She left me once; she’d leave me again.
We were all seated now, seemingly calm but tension brimmed underneath us all.
“And what are you going to do, Basilio? Drag her down the aisle by her hair,” she continued, egging me on.
“If I have to.”
Someone cleared their throat from across the room, and the three of us looked over to find a guard standing by the door.
“Is this a good time?” he asked.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Wynter snickered behind him and side stepped him. “I don’t give a crap if it’s a good time. I’m hungry.”
Avoiding my eyes, Wynter strode to the seat furthest from the three of us and sat herself like a queen. Like someone who was used to getting her own way. Like someone who knew exactly how much she was worth.
It was what I loved about her when we first met. Her strong personality. Her determination. And the way she watched me. Like I was her prince. The latter was no longer there.
One of the staff took her breakfast request and disappeared to go grab her food. Silence filled the room, Wynter’s attention was on everything but the three of us. She was purposely ignoring us and with every second that ticked, my anger rose.
That she would dare ignore me.
“Did you sleep well?” Emory asked her, trying to break the silence.
Wynter stiffened for a moment, then glared at all three of us.
“No, I didn’t sleep well. You kidnapped me,” she hissed.
“I also had an unwelcome visitor in the middle of the night, gawking at me while I slept. For two nights in a row. It’s freaky,” she hissed, glaring at me.
I couldn’t help it, she had a nightmare.
“I want to go home.” Then she bestowed us all with a cold stare. “Now.”
“You don’t call the shots here, sweetheart,” Dante mused, which earned him a small growl by our guest. “But since you’re here, tell me how you won the poker game at my table last year. I’ve wondered about it for quite some time.”
“And I wondered for quite some time how it felt when Juliette kicked you in your balls,” Wynter snickered, then took a sip of her orange juice.
Emory stifled her laugh, earning herself a glare by our cousin.
“What?” Emory asked innocently. “You failed to mention that. I’d like to know how it felt too.”
“It fucking hurt like a bitch,” he grumbled.
“Why did she kick you in the balls?” Emory inquired curiously.
“Miss Flemming had a little heist operation going on,” Dante drawled. “We came to intercept her card counting and her cousin fucking distracted me, then kicked me in the balls.
Wynter shrugged. “Honestly, I’m offended, Dante ,” she mocked him. “Calling our operation little.”
Amusement crossed Dante’s expression and he covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. It wasn’t every day that someone pulled one over on us.
Wynter’s breakfast was brought in at that moment, halting the conversation.
“Thank God,” she murmured, reaching for her carbs. I had never met a woman who could eat as much as Wynter. I finally understood why with her vigorous ice skating schedule.
“You don’t have to eat it all in one sitting,” Dante mocked her. Wynter just flipped him off and Emory’s laugh filled the room. I hadn’t heard my sister laugh so much in a very long time.
My eyes flickered to my sister, studying her.
This would have been her if she had a normal life.
She would have probably had friends like Wynter, getting into trouble and laughing.
All the time. Instead, she was hardened.
She hid it behind her petite frame, deceiving her enemies that she was weak.
But she was no less ruthless than we were.
You had to be to survive our father.
The house shook and a booming voice traveled through the house.
“Where is she?” Brennan’s demand rattled through the first floor and the next moment, the dining room’s door rattled open.
Well, that wasn’t fifteen minutes.
Wynter shot off her seat, and so did I. Dante and Emory followed, both their guns drawn. Before Wynter could get close to Liam, I was by her side, my arm wrapped around her waist and lifting her.
“Let go of me, you brute,” Wynter hissed as Brennan entered the room.
“DiLustro, get your hands off my niece right fucking now,” Brennan growled.
Wynter kept trying to elbow me, twisting against me.
“You want to live,” the blonde prick I recognized as Sasha Nikolaev threatened, “you’ll get your hands off her.”
Brennan came with reinforcements.