38. Famiglia Ties
Chapter 38
Famiglia Ties
Giordano
Today’s morning meeting is an extremely important one. Long overdue.
“Don Sokolov.” I shake Andrei Sokolov’s hand—the head of the Russian Bratva. One scary motherfucker.
“Don Marzano,” Andrei says. He gestures toward the taller man standing next to him. “Damian Sokolov, my son, my heir.”
I nod and shake his hand as well. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Sokolov.”
The man with jet black hair and eyes to match, nods and shakes my hand with equal intensity. “ Just Damian,” he says in a deep tone. He’s slightly shorter than I am, maybe by an inch.
“Got it.” My forehead creases. Not as stick up the ass as his father.
“And this is my daughter, Nikita.” He gestures to the black-haired girl with pale-green eyes, standing next to him on the other side. Ah, Scary Motherfucker Jr.—when she’s not drunk.
“Yes, we’ve met a few times before.” I smile over at her. Especially the other night. “She’s best friends with my sister.”
Andrei nods. His voice lowers into a more possessive tone. “And you’re aware of how protective I am of her… yes ? ”
“You don’t have to worry.” I chuckle. Does he think I’m after his daughter? Not a fat chance in Hell. She’s nothing like my Antonella. Who I’m still trying to convince to be my fucking girlfriend, no less.
One day at a time.
“Please, have a seat,” I offer.
It’s already getting sort of late. The city lights shine in through the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the mahogany wood meeting room table. The lake isn’t visible anymore. It’s pitch black everywhere aside from Navy Pier. The Ferris Wheel spins around in a bright circle.
I pour each of them a glass of bourbon, hopefully signifying union between families.
“What does this alliance have to offer us?” Andrei casually takes a sip, as if the alcohol was water.
“Unification, of course, is a major perk.”
“We do not deal with drugs, trafficking, or anything of the sort,” Xander clarifies.
Grazie.
Francesco and Zephyr have a drug deal between the two of them. Well, now I suppose it’s Alara and Zephyr.
We, however , keep out of it.
Andrei hums with another nod, yet doesn’t verbally respond. Instead, Damian says, “We do not either, but they’re doing all sorts of trafficking. It’s becoming a problem. Including overstepping into our territories. Without permission. We wouldn’t grant it if he tried.”
“Another common ground,” I admit. “Cillian O’Duinn. He’s an issue.”
“That’s an understatement.” Damian’s jaw tightens, baring his teeth while his top lip curls up into a snarl.
This conversation shifted into an interesting direction. “What did he do? ”
Damian grips the glass, damn near breaking it. “He killed my wife and three year old son.”
“Figlio di puttana. I am so?—”
“Please, spare me the apology. If there’s anything you can do… it’s let me help you bring them down once and for all. Maybe then, their souls will rest and I can be at peace. Alone and unbothered.” He finishes his drink in one gulp. “Now, what did he do to you?”
“He killed my father. Now , he’s threatening to take my woman from me. He’s been stalking her.”
“Exactly how it began for my wife. Only, I wasn’t quick enough.” He sets the glass down. “Father?”
“Yes?” Andrei speaks up, finally. Damian gives him only a single nod. “Then it’s settled. An alliance will be made between the Russians and Italians.” Andrei pulls a piece of paper out of his briefcase and signs it. He slides it over to Damian on the table. I keep my eye on him perspicaciously as he reads the document, signing it at the bottom.
Damian hands the paper over to me. I read the fine print carefully, making sure they are verbally expressing their end of the bargain accurately.
They are .
I click the top of my pen, sign it next to Damian’s signature, and hand it directly back to Andrei.
“Wonderful, you boys make me proud. The generations to come will thank you for this.” Andrei nods.
“Why wasn’t this done sooner?” I ask—curious why a pact hadn’t been made already.
“Your father and I were about to close the deal,” he says quietly, slipping the paper back into the briefcase. “Before?—”
I quickly say, “Before he was murdered in cold blood.”
“Correct.” Damian nods. “And I was here… at the office.”
“When?”
I wasn’t there that day. I was home with Momma, thankfully, when she got the news. The way she collapsed on the floor, and I held onto her?—
“The day they were supposed to close the deal. He never showed. My father thought he was going back on his deal. When he found out he had been hit. It’s… embarrassing.”
“Damian.” Andrei shoots him a knowing glare. “Let’s not drudge up the past.”
“Well…” I clear my throat. “We all make mistakes, no?” There’s no way he could’ve known. I can’t hold it against him. “We are now unified. Famiglia.”
“Correct. Tell me the details about your issue,” Andrei says in a more serious tone. “I need specifics .”
“One common goal. Cillian. He’s come after our own. In the past, and is attempting to now.”
Andrei leans in closer, waiting for me to divulge. His jaw tightens in vexation. Does he not know?
I shift my attention to Alexei, sitting next to Kita— awfully close. Too close. I squint, curious about his suspicious proximity. We’re all safe here. Does he need to be breathing down her neck every second of the day? Maybe he’s taking his job title too… seriously ?
Alexei picks up on my suspicion, shifting away from her a few inches. He says, “Cillian approached Antonella when she, Giulietta, and Kita were all at The Estrada a few nights ago. I made him go away, because I couldn’t kill him in a crowd of people—my preferred way to get rid of him. He was right there, however , taking care of three drunk girls is no easy task on my own. Their safety is my priority, and removal of the target from the area was the quickest option without raising suspicion.”
Andrei bows his head once. “Is this everything?”
“Yes.” My nostrils flare. “That’s the gist of it.” I pull my phone out to check on Antonella’s location. By now , she would’ve texted me she’s arrived home after work. And so far, I haven’t received a single thing. It’s not like her. If she wasn’t going to be home right away—she’d tell me.
I blink at the three bold words staring back at me on the screen.
NO LOCATION FOUND.
“Excuse me.” I fly up from my chair, refreshing the page. Still the same. I call her phone immediately; hoping by some cruel act of God it’s an error.
Voicemail .
A large pit of anxiety forms deep in my stomach. Nausea, and the urge to vomit gets stuck in my throat with a gut wrenching feeling. The last time I felt this way, it was because of my father.
“What’s wrong?” Damian asks.
“Something’s wrong. Antonella. Sh—he’s not picking up her phone. Location’s off. It’s never been off since she gave it to me. Didn’t tell me she’s arrived home. Safely.” I shake my head, refreshing her location again.
NO LOCATION FOUND.
“ Damn it all! Something’s wrong. I feel it.” My grip around the phone tightens, any harder and it’ll break. “Cillian has her. She’s supposed to be at home.”
“How do you know?” Andrei leans further back in the chair, furrowing his dark, bushy brows—all seriousness game face. He’s ready for this fight.
“I don’t know how to explain other than I can feel it,” my voice comes out as a whisper. My breathing hitches in my tightening throat like I’m having an allergic reaction to the air.
I don’t have an epi-pen.
Can I be allergic to anxiety attacks?
I can’t breathe .
I’m trying to remain cool, calm, and collected on the outside. It’s not fucking working.
“This is why I always have Nikita with Alexei. Bodyguards are better to have and not need.”
“With all due respect… now is not the time for snarky banter, Don Sokolov. I need to save her. And stop him from coming after your daughter next. He’s already fucked over your son,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “My apologies, Damian.”
Andrei gives a slight nod and turns to Alexei. “Take Nikita somewhere safe. Do not tell me where. This has a potential to get… ugly .”
“Father, I can handle myself,” Kita protests. She can, but better to not have to worry about her, too.
“Go back to New York. Be safe.” Andrei kisses his daughter on the forehead. She’s in good hands with Alexei.
I wish I could say the same for my amore.