Chapter 16 Dimitri
DIMITRI
“Mila, we have to get on the fucking plane.”
The look she gave me could freeze the desert. “It’s your plane. Pretty sure they won’t take off without you.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face. I was already irritated as fuck that I had to go to New York to meet with Rossi and Finnegan to cement our alliance, and now Mila was insisting we stop at some store on our way to the airport.
She wasn’t even supposed to be coming—this was a business trip, and it was safer for her to stay in Chicago—but I’d finally broken down after she threatened to smother me with a pillow if I refused to let her come.
Not that I was worried about her murdering me—I was a light sleeper—but I didn’t want to deal with a sad, scowling Mila for months on end.
And maybe I had the unsettling urge to make sure she was happy as well as safe.
“I would have done this earlier, but Sofiya just told me that Sienna is pregnant. What would it look like if I turned up empty-handed?”
“Yes, I’m sure her unborn child will be deeply offended,” I muttered. Then her words sank in. “Wait, you’re talking about Sienna Rossi? She’s pregnant?”
“Apparently.”
“When did she get married? And who did she marry?”
I knew little of Rossi’s younger sister besides what Sofiya told me, but marriages in families like ours were almost always strategically designed to consolidate power and alliances. The wedding of the Italian Mafia princess should have shaken the organized crime world. How had I missed this?
“Um, she didn’t.”
I cocked an eyebrow, and Mila threw me a scathing glare. “It’s the twenty-first century. You don’t have to be married to have a kid.”
I held up my hands. “I said nothing.” Inside, my mind was spinning.
This was an interesting development. I couldn’t imagine the Don was taking this well.
A pregnant, unmarried Mafia princess? The capos must be having a fucking field day.
Maybe there was a way I could use this to gain an edge over Rossi.
Mila directed Nikolai into the parking lot for the Blueberry Hill Baby Boutique, and I let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t even know Sienna. I’m sure she doesn’t expect a gift.”
“I just want them to like me.” Her soft words cut me to my core, and I caught Nikolai’s sharp expression in the rearview mirror. Mila had gotten so very little in life growing up in our father’s cold home. She deserved better. She certainly deserved a better brother than me.
“Fine. But keep it quick.”
Thirty minutes later, I was practically pushing Mila out of the store. Our flight was in seven minutes.
“Wait, maybe I should have gotten that other stuffed animal, too.”
“Keep walking,” I snapped.
Mila groaned but finally got in the car, and we were on our way, the other two SUVs with my men merging onto the interstate with us.
Time to get this over with.