Chapter 22
SCORPION
“Everything is in place for the delivery to their club,” Lucky reports to my brothers and me as we’re huddled up in Priest’s office at the casino. “My guys have the little renovation we talked about ready to go.”
The test detonations have finally gone off according to plan on the farm.
“Your guys have it timed perfectly?” Priest asks carefully.
Lucky grins. “Took them a couple of tries, but they’ve locked in. We’ve got it.”
“Good news.”
I drift out of the conversation, thinking about Katya, the enemy I was forced to marry who’s starting to feel like a whole lot more than an unwanted obligation.
It would probably help if I weren’t in full-blown obsession mode when it comes to her, but I am.
It’s not just the way we fit together, like we were made for each other.
It’s not just that she’s beautiful and strong and feisty as fuck.
I can’t get enough of her. Everything about her drives me crazy, until she’s all that’s on my mind.
This morning, I fucked her hard and fast before I left for the casino. The memory of her on her knees as I slapped her ass and fucked her deep left me with a hard-on I couldn’t do anything about for the entire ride out of the city.
But sex isn’t the only reason I can’t stop thinking about my wife.
Katya’s not telling me the whole truth.
I know this like I know every one of the tattoos on the back of my hand, like I know why I chose the ink, when I had them done, and how much they fucking hurt.
There’s something she’s keeping from me. Like the burner phone, which she wouldn’t have told me about if I hadn’t confronted her. Thank fuck Antonio was on his A game and saw it fall out of her purse. Otherwise, I don’t know if she would have come clean.
Why?
I don’t think I’m wrong about her loyalty being to her stepmother rather than to her brothers.
And I fucking know I’m not wrong about what that picture Sidorov sent her of Svetlana really meant.
He wanted Katya to know he has eyes on their stepmother.
The shifty bastard is using Svetlana as a bargaining chip.
I just don’t know what his endgame is yet.
“Scorpion?”
I realize all my brothers are looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer a question I didn’t hear because I was too caught up in my own fucking head.
“What was that?” I ask, running a hand along my jaw.
There’s more stubble than usual there. I decided to fuck Katya instead of shaving. I regret nothing.
Lucky snickers. “Lost in your own head, eh, fratello?”
I’d cuff the stronzo in the back of the head, but he’s seated too far away and I can’t reach him.
So I shoot him the finger instead. “Some of us have a lot on our minds.”
He snorts. “Yeah, like how many different ways you can fuck a gorgeous ballerina.”
My possessive rage is instant and through the roof. I slam my fist on Priest’s desk and bolt out of my chair. “That’s my fucking wife you’re talking about.”
Saint shoots out of his seat and slaps me on the back. “Calm down. We’re all family here, and we’ve got a lot of shit on our plates.”
Lucky holds up his hands like he’s surrendering to the cops. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
“Katya is my wife,” I grind out. “Speak about her with respect, or not at all.”
“Christ, she must have a magical pussy,” the fucker says, reigniting my fury. “You barely know her.”
Worse, he’s not wrong. But I don’t give a fuck about that now. I charge at him, landing a punch in his shoulder as Saint pulls me away.
“Cazzo,” he snaps. “Stop this shit right now. We’re on the same fucking team.”
“Saint is right,” Priest says. “Sit the fuck down, everyone. If we’re going to get one over on the Bratva, we have to keep our heads out of our own asses.”
He levels a pointed glare at me and then one at Lucky.
I take a deep breath and try to shake it off, knowing my youngest brother likes to stir shit. He’s also pissed at me for cutting out our mother and not allowing her to come to the wedding. But I can’t cross the bridge Antonella burned down twenty years ago.
Besides, I’ve got to keep my head in the game. I learned a lot from Katya last night, even if the revelations were reluctant on her part.
I shake off Saint and sit back down before turning to Priest. “Sidorov is saying that we double-crossed him on the shipment from the cartel.”
“That’s what Ekaterina told you?” Priest says. “That Sidorov claims we were the ones behind the Cantarelli deal?”
I nod. “He says we took the money and the product. And I don’t think she’d have reason to lie about that.”
“But Sidorov is full of shit,” Saint bites out. “He’s the one who double-crossed us, not the other way around. He used Cantarelli to do it, and then before we could get anything out of the bastard, they clipped him.”
“Katya doesn’t know anything about what went down that night, other than that I was grazed by a bullet. I kept her in the dark intentionally. So all she has to go on is what Sidorov said to her about it.”
“Are you sure that’s all she knows?”
“Absolutely.” I don’t hesitate in my response. “She’s not prying into our business.”
Actually, that’s not entirely true. But for reasons I can’t explain, I believed her when she claimed that her motives were pure. And I don’t want my brothers to cling to any reason to doubt her. I want them to trust her. To think of her as family.
Because she’s mine now, and right here, right now, surrounded by my brothers, a bolt of clarity hits me like an electric shock. What’s between Katya and me isn’t temporary. It’s too big, too bold, too all-consuming to be short-lived.
No, I’ve made up my mind.
I’m keeping her. I don’t give a shit about the contract or her stronzo brother. I don’t even care about what Priest, Saint, and Lucky think. Katya Andriani belongs to me.
“Are you sure about that?” Priest asks sternly, and for a second, I think he read my mind before I realize he’s referring back to what I just said, that Katya isn’t snooping to provide intel back to the Bratva.
I nod. “We can trust her.”
Which is why I also have to come clean about the burner phone. I’ve been carrying it with me ever since I pulled it out of Katya’s purse last night when I got home and she was in the shower. I take it out of my suit jacket now and set it on Priest’s desk.
“This is a burner phone Sidorov gave her so they can communicate,” I explain. “She gave it to me.”
Against her will, but I keep that part to myself.
“Has the bastard sent through any messages?” Saint asks.
“Not yet. But when he does, we’ll get them. It’s possible that he’ll try to rope her into whatever he’s planning.”
“I like the sound of that,” Priest says. “Sidorov has to know that we’re onto him by now. He’s going to make his move quickly, before it’s too late.”
“Which means we have to make ours first,” I add.
Priest smiles. “Exactly. Lucky, tell your guys we’re a go on detonation. Start the clock.”
Katya
“Are you sure another project is a good idea, Mrs. Andriani?” Antonio asks as we wait at the paint department of the home improvement store. “The boss didn’t seem so thrilled with the last one.”
“I’m going with neutral tones this time,” I remind him with a sweet smile that I hope throws him off any suspicions he may have.
I’m desperate to escape his watch. After Enzo left this morning, I discovered that the burner phone from Misha was gone.
I instantly went into panic mode, trying to figure out what to do next.
If I contact Misha through the phone Enzo gave me, he’ll see it the instant I send a text.
Not to mention that Misha would be suspicious that I was reaching out to him through the wrong phone.
It would set off alarm bells I can’t afford while he’s holding Svetlana hostage.
I forced down my green smoothie and formulated a plan.
I need to find Dmitri. He’s the only other person who might be able to tell me where Svetlana’s being held.
Part of me wanted to unload all of it to Enzo, to tell him everything and ask for his help.
But the other part of me was afraid of what would happen if I did.
Would he help Svetlana? Would he think I’ve been conspiring with Misha against him? It’s all one big mess, and I have to make sure my stepmother is safe.
But before I can do that, I need to escape Antonio.
Enter a trip to the home improvement store.
The helpful woman behind the desk is busy mixing up the paint I requested while we wait. Now’s the time to put my plan into motion.
I place a hand on Antonio’s arm. “You know what? I think I overdid it with my morning hydration. I’m going to run to the bathroom while you wait for the paint.”
He’s a hulking figure who intimidates almost everyone who looks in his direction, and he’s frowning down at me now. “I’ll come with you and wait.”
That’s what I was afraid of, that Enzo’s told him to keep me in his sight at all times.
“But who will get the paint when it’s done?” I pat his arm. “I’ll just be a minute.”
He looks undecided, so I lower my voice and lean in. “Besides, won’t it look a little odd for you to be guarding the restroom door like a creeper?”
His brows collide. “I’m not a creeper.”
“I know that, but everyone else…” I shrug.
His eyes narrow. “Fine. I’ll wait for the paint. But don’t take too long. The boss won’t like it.”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll be okay with me navigating my way to the public bathroom on my own.” I smile again. “Be right back.”
Then I turn away and head off down the aisle in the direction of the restroom area.
It’s almost too easy. My heart starts pounding fast as I reach the end of the aisle and make a right by the selection of plumbing supplies.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Antonio watching me from where he stands, leaning up against the paint desk.