Chapter 21
Twenty-One
“You could have at least let me stay,” Gia mutters petulantly next to me as we make our way back to the tavern.
“He’s in good hands, Gia,” I tell her. “The doctor will have your brother all fixed up in no time.”
She mutters something under her breath that I can’t quite catch, but I decide to let it slide for now. Gia is unaware that I’ve been meticulously tallying her offenses, and after the ceremony on Friday, I’ll be calculating the full extent of her transgressions. She’ll be paying the price, on her knees with my belt snug around her neck while I shove my cock down her tight throat.
“What are you going to do with him once he’s better?” she asks, her eyes fixed on the blur of the cityscape whizzing past the car window. My little deer hasn’t met my gaze once since I led her out of the dimly lit warehouse. I can sense the turmoil within her—a part of her is devastated that her brother didn’t come back for her, despite being fully capable. Yet, she also understands on some level that he was trying to protect her. It just didn’t unfold as he had hoped. If I hadn’t intervened, she would have perished out there, and he might never have realized.
All his efforts to secure her freedom would have been in vain.
“Dante will decide where he will be useful,” I tell her. There is no need to sugarcoat the reality of the situation. Her brother, Elio, will be working off his penance with the Romano family here in Seattle. “If he works hard and proves himself, he’ll earn the status a man of his lineage is entitled to.”
I watch her reaction closely from the corner of my eye and notice the subtle furrowing of her brow. She doesn’t like my answer. Yet, she knows all too well the limited options that remain for Elio. He can’t return home; it would only put his mother in danger, and I can’t afford to let him roam free. I doubt he will make another attempt on my life again. We only caught him because he slipped up after I let it be known over the dark web that I had Gia. Elio isn’t a trained assassin. He was simply a man caught in a desperate situation, trying to do what he could to ensure his sister’s safety, and made a deal with the wrong person.
There’s no blaming him for that.
Now it is time for my piccola cerva to hold up her end of the bargain. If everything goes according to plan, she’ll get more time with her brother at another time. Once he’s proven himself. Until then, I’ll make sure they keep their distance.
“Thank you.” Her words are a gentle, vulnerable whisper that hangs in the air. There’s no need for clarification; her gratitude is clear, and I acknowledge it with a silent nod. I slide out of the driver’s seat and walk around the vehicle to open her door.
Silence envelops us once more, yet it carries a softer, more comfortable quality this time. As we make our way to the underground parking garage connected to McDonough’s, the silence morphs into something almost friendly, like an unspoken understanding.
“Welcome back,” Matthias greets us warmly as we approach the long wooden table. He balances a fork in one hand and cradles his baby girl in the other, her tiny fingers playfully tugging at his collar. It’s a striking image: one of the most feared Bratva leaders in the world, his stern face softened as he makes silly faces at her between hearty mouthfuls of corned beef and cabbage. “How did it go?”
“Better than expected,” I reply, pulling out a chair for Gia so she can sit close to me. Matthias had mentioned on our way here that Thomas would be arriving within the hour. I’ve noticed the way Gia’s eyes widen and her skin turns a shade lighter each time his name is mentioned. Her usual warm caramel Italian complexion fades, betraying her fear.
“Elio is in good hands,” Dante assures, directing his words to Gia with a voice as steady. His eyes, deep and unwavering, lock onto hers with a promise of safety. She holds his gaze, her breath hitching slightly before she gives a small, tentative nod, acknowledging his promise.
The corner of my lips curves upward as Matthias glances at me with a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with shared secrets. Gia is the reason Elio isn’t facing the grim fate he deserves. Without her, he would be lying in the cold, damp earth, buried beneath layers of soil, tangled with the roots and crawling with worms—a resting place he would share with many others who dared to cross me.
“Here you both are.” Nan, Liam’s mother, beams as she hands me a plate, her eyes crinkling with warmth. The plate is a small mountain of corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes, the savory aroma wafting up to greet me. She places an equally heaped plate in front of Gia, whose eyes widen like saucers at the sight of the generous serving.
I lean closer to Gia, lowering my voice to a gentle whisper so only she can hear. “Eat as much as you feel comfortable,” I reassure her, mindful of her past struggles, but I won’t embarrass her by highlighting them. “It’s alright if you don’t finish.”
I glance at the towering portion Nan has given her, skeptical that she can conquer it all. I’d be content if she just managed to make a noticeable dent. I’ve been cautious about her portions lately to avoid any discomfort or complications from overeating, given her recent malnutrition.
“Thank you.” Gia smiles up at Nan who gives her a warm smile in return.
“Alright.” Liam clears his throat, the sound resonating through the room, commanding the attention of everyone seated at the table. “Let’s get down to business.”
“To defeat—the Huns,” the twins chorus in perfect harmony, their voices ringing with playful mischief. They erupt into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls, as their father lets out an embarrassed groan, his hand dragging down his face in exasperation. Ava, who is seated between them, shakes with laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Even Matthias allows a small, amused smile to crease his usually stern demeanor.
“You need to have been there” Matthias trails off, his voice hinting at a shared family memory. “They got one good laugh at dinner a few years ago, and now it has become their perpetual joke.”
“It’s a good joke,” Seamus insists. Liam rolls his eyes, a gesture that speaks volumes of a father’s long-suffering patience.
“The first few times, son,” he says, his voice tinged with teasing affection. “But now I am wondering if I ever dropped you on the head when you were a baby, and this is my penance.”
“His head is a bit more lopsided than mine,” Kiernan points out with a chuckle. He ducks his head to avoid the roll that Seamus lobs at him.
“Fucking jackeen ,” he mutters good-naturedly.
Liam shakes his head and holds his hands up. “Settle down.” His booming voice causes the twins to straighten in their chairs, but the gleam in their gaze as they eye one another tells me their antics are far from over. “Thank you. Now—” Liam shifts his attention to Gia. “We need a plan.”
“You’ve already said we should land near Pienza,” Adrian speaks up from the end of the table. My brothers have been quiet during most of the conversation, but they are attentive listeners. They know this is something I need to take control of, and they are more than happy to let me take the lead.
That is how we have always worked. None of us rule over the others. We work together, using our strengths and taking the lead when necessary. It is my turn to take the reins. Gia nods her head, swallowing the bite in her mouth before answering.
“Pienza is a town with no mafia loyalists,” she informs us. “If we can alter the flight manifest so we don’t raise any red flags on landing, no one will run to Salvatore or my father.”
The twins trade a look before asking, “Why do we need to alter the manifest?”
“Because my father keeps track of all inbound and outbound flights from every airport in the region.” She shrugs as if it is commonplace for this to occur. “If he sees any of your names, he will know something is wrong.”
“It will be hard to land several planes there without drawing attention to ourselves,” I point out. “We need at least two, if not three, jets to carry all of us plus reinforcements.”
Matthias shifts slightly, his lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but he remains silent. Instead, he takes a deep breath and steers the conversation forward.
“We’ll be going after your father first, Gia,” he tells her, his voice steady and unwavering. “We need to know everything you can tell us about his reinforcements.”
The room falls into a heavy silence as Matthias locks eyes with Gia, scrutinizing her expression for any hint of reaction. He’s indirectly informing her that they intend to eliminate her father.
Gia hesitates, her brow furrowing as a myriad of emotions flicker across her face—uncertainty, moral conflict, and the burden of her own conscience. This momentary pause speaks volumes to Matthias, revealing where her true allegiance lies. If she intended to betray us, she wouldn’t think twice about divulging everything she knew; such information would be worthless if given too freely. But Gia’s hesitation indicates an internal struggle over the implications of Matthias’s statement.
No one faults her for the pause. After all, this is her father—her own flesh and blood—the man who, despite his intentions of auctioning her virginity to settle his debts, once cradled her in his arms as his beloved daughter. I watch her throat bob as tears spring to her eyes, no doubt lost in the memories of the times before he treated her as more than a pawn in his schemes. But then, her expression hardens, her jaw setting with a steely resolve, and it’s clear where her thoughts have led her.
“His home is a fortress,” she declares, her voice carrying a resolute confidence that leaves no room for doubt. “Unlike the De Luca estate, his house is on the edge of the city, but it is heavily guarded.”
Over the next half an hour she delves into the ins and outs of the topography of the estate sprawled through acres.
“We’re talking seven acres of manicured hell, beautiful on the outside but pure ice-cold dread on the inside. Every inch is covered with an intricate network of laser security systems and surveillance cameras,” she explains, trying to keep her voice steady. Her fingers dance nervously over the penciled blueprint she drew that is spread out on the table.
“The cameras report straight to father’s men. Giovanni and Giuseppe.” she shivers when she says their names. “Two vipers, dressed in Armani suits. Trust me when I tell you they possess an unnatural knack to sniff out anything out of place.”
She taps her finger where she’s drawn the front door. “It’s solid mahogany, but it is reinforced with steel. Fingerprint and retinal scanners are required to open it, and it will close on its own within a few minutes.”
She swallows hard, licking her dry lips before pointing out the next hurdle. “The perimeter fence is electrified with enough voltage to drop a full-grown bear, and three sets of guards sweep every inch of this property twenty-four-seven with more firepower than a small army. They don’t ask questions; they shoot first.”
“How the hell are we supposed to get past all of that shit?” Seamus exclaims as he stares down at the map. “Fuck, it would be better to just bomb it in a fucking air raid and level the sucker. He won’t survive that. ”
“My father has a bomb shelter built beneath the structure, and he’ll get an alert the moment your plane maneuvers toward the mansion.” Gia bursts his bubble with a grimace.
“Fuck.”
“So getting in from the ground level is going to fucking impossible,” Matthias growls. “We can’t just drop a bomb, apparently.”
“What about underground tunnels?” Ava asks Gia. “Italy has thousands of underground tunnels leftover from invaders over the centuries. Especially in Rome.”
“They are all monitored. They would see us before we even open the hatch.”
“Unless we cause a distraction,” Matthias jumps in. “And someone on the inside to let them in.”
Gia gives the man a skeptical look. “And how would we do that?”
“By giving them somewhere else to be,” A deeply rich, accented voice cuts in from the doorway. “And giving your father something he wants desperately.”
“Andrei!” Ava smiles, pushing back her chair and running to greet her father-in-law. Matthias stands with his daughter nestled in his arms and strides over to his biological father with a broad grin on his face.
“ Moya doch’ .” Andrei lovingly calls Ava his daughter as he wraps her in a gentle hug before turning to Matthias. “ Moy syn .” The bratva leader’s eyes widen when he takes in the small bundle in his son’s arms.
“Meet your granddaughter,” Ava whispers softly, her voice filled with warmth as she gazes lovingly between the two men. “Amalia Lilliana Dashkov.”
Andrei’s eyes glisten with emotion as Matthias gently hands him little Amalia. It’s no wonder he looks as if he might cry. Amalia was the name of his late wife, a spirited American waitress who had captured his heart in his early twenties. Jealousy darkened their lives when his brother Kirill, driven by envy, cruelly kidnapped her along with the unborn child she carried, Matthias. In a merciless twist of fate, Kirill ensnared her in a world of addiction, eventually leading to a tragic overdose to hide his sins. Left alone, Matthias was cast out onto the streets, an innocent caught in the web of his uncle’s treachery.
Where he met Tomas Ivankov.
“I don’t understand,” Gia sighs, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes, filled with longing, gaze at the happy family, their laughter ringing out like a melody she can’t quite grasp. “What is he going to want that bad?”
“You,” a voice cuts through the room, firm and authoritative. “The one thing he needs the most is you, Gia Nardoni.”
Gia’s face drains of color, eyes widening as she recognizes the man who strides into the room with an air of possession—like he owns every corner of the space. Her throat visiblytightens , the muscles working hard as she tries to swallow the shock.
Her body jerks, propelled by a surge of adrenaline, and she pushes herself up from the chair with a sudden urgency. But her escape is short-lived. She barely manages a few stumbling steps before her legs buckle beneath her, sending her crashing down to her hands and knees on the cold, unforgiving floor. And then, in a moment that catches everyone off guard, she heaves forward, the contents of her stomach spilling out on the scuffed wooden floor.
What the hell is going on?