Chapter 15
Adrian
The door to Alexei's office isn't locked.
Arrogant bastard. He runs one of the most dangerous operations in Brooklyn and leaves his office wide open like he's invincible.
Or like he wants people to think he is.
I don't wait for permission. Just push through.
Alexei sits behind his desk, vodka in hand, utterly unsurprised to see me.
"Adrian." He doesn't even bother to stand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The fact that he's not worried tells me everything. He either has security I can't see, or he's confident I won't kill him here.
He's right about the second part. For now.
"You've been moving on my shipments." I plant my hands on his desk and lean forward. "Red Hook. Williamsburg. Three of my routes in the last week."
"Have I?" He smiles that infuriating, smug smile that makes me want to put my fist through his face. "Perhaps your security is just lacking."
"My security is fine. Your ambition is the problem."
"Ambition." He pours himself more vodka. Doesn't offer me any. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"What would you call it?"
"Taking what's mine." He leans back in his chair, studying me. "Or rather, taking back what was stolen from me."
I straighten. "I haven't stolen anything from you." I snort. "You've got nothing I want."
"No?" He tilts his head. "Then perhaps we should discuss your new wife's brother."
My jaw tightens. Of course this comes back to Gabriel. I fucking knew he'd bring him up. My instincts told me there was more to this situation than a simple gambling debt.
"I told you. I'll settle his debt. Name your price."
Alexei laughs. Actually laughs. The sound echoes in the too-small office, bouncing off exposed brick walls and expensive art that doesn't belong in a nightclub.
"You think this is about fifty thousand dollars?" He stands, coming around the desk. "You think I give a fuck about gambling debts?"
"Then what do you give a fuck about?" I hold up a hand. "And don't give me any spy bullshit. I looked into it. Gabriel is barely fucking competent. My guys wouldn't let him hold their dicks to take a piss. You didn't get anything useful from him."
Alexei doesn't crack a smile, and I know I'm right. So there's something else.
"Gabriel Romano stole one million dollars from me."
The words hit like a physical blow.
A million.
Not fifty thousand. Not a gambling debt spiraling out of control.
A million fucking dollars.
"You're fucking with me," I say, but even as the words come out, I know he's not. And I know that this is deeper than gambling. Alexei wouldn't let someone rack up that much debt.
"Am I?" Alexei moves to a filing cabinet, pulls out a folder, tosses it on the desk.
"Bank records. Shipping manifests. Security footage.
Your brother-in-law worked the docks for six months.
Your men aren't the only game in town. He had access to my operations.
Skimmed a little here, a little there. By the time I caught on, he'd stolen nearly a million dollars. "
I flip through the folder. Bank records. Shipping manifests. Gabriel's signature on documents showing systematic theft over six months.
The evidence is solid. Damning.
But something doesn't add up.
Gabriel was begging Sera for rent money. Two hundred dollars. Coming to her apartment desperate for five hundred. Acting like a man with nothing.
If he stole a million dollars, where the fuck is it?
"Where's the money now?" I ask.
Alexei's expression shifts. Just slightly. "That's the question, isn't it?"
"You're telling me Gabriel stole a million dollars and you DON'T KNOW where it went?"
"The money disappeared." His voice goes flat. Professional. "Offshore accounts, shell companies. We tracked it for a while. Trail went cold three weeks ago."
"Gabriel Romano doesn't have the sophistication for that kind of operation."
"No." Alexei's eyes narrow. "He doesn't. Which means someone else does."
The implication hangs between us.
A third party. Someone neither of us can see. Someone playing us both.
"Who?" I demand.
"If I knew that, your wife's brother would already be dead." Alexei leans back against his desk. "But I'd very much like to find out. Wouldn't you?"
I would. Because whoever has that money has leverage. Over Gabriel. Over Sera. Over this entire situation.
"What does my wife have to do with this?" I ask.
Alexei pretends to look confused, but I see something in his eyes that tells me otherwise.
"You tell me."
"Don't fuck with me, Alexei," I hiss. "Gabriel would know Sera couldn't help him here, so why go to her? Why would you send Dimitri?"
Alexei sucks his teeth. "Originally, Gabriel offered me his sister to cover his debts."
I knew this. I'd guessed as much. But hearing it confirmed makes my blood run cold.
"That was before I figured out what that little fucker was doing." I notice he doesn't mention whether he accepted the offer. I suspect he did.
"He was buying himself time."
Alexei nods. "By the time I figured that out, he was out of town."
"So why send Dimitri?"
Alexei sneers. "I couldn't allow the slight to go unchecked. If I couldn't get to Gabe, I'd take my anger out on his sweet sister."
I take a deep, calming breath. Bianca wants the Morozovs as allies. I want them buried.
"Obviously, I didn't know she was yours." He chuckles. "Though I considered that you might have put him up to it. Thought maybe you married the girl to cover your tracks. Seemed convenient, don't you think? My man goes to collect Gabriel's sister, and suddenly she's Mrs. Adrian Nero?"
He's fishing. Seeing what I know. What I'll admit.
"I didn't know about Gabriel," I say flatly. "Wasn't on my radar."
"No." He studies me. "I don't think you did. You were just as surprised as I was by the connection. Which makes me wonder—does she know?"
My hand moves before I can think. I grab him by the throat, pulling him toward me. Vodka spills across his desk, the glass shattering on the floor.
"Stay away from my wife," I say, my voice deadly calm. "Whether she knew or not, whether she was involved or not, she is off limits. Do you understand me?"
Alexei doesn't struggle. Just looks at me with cold, calculating eyes.
I drop him, angry at myself for giving in to his bullshit. He's testing me, and I failed.
"She's carrying your heir," he says, straightening his clothing. "I understand the protectiveness. But understand this, Adrian—her brother stole from me. That makes her collateral. That makes her leverage."
"Touch her and I'll burn your entire operation to the ground. Then I'll burn the ashes. Then I'll bury what's left so deep no one will ever find you."
"Will you?" He lifts a brow in challenge. "Because from where I'm standing, you're the one with a problem. Gabriel is gone. The money is gone. And your pregnant wife is very, very vulnerable."
I should kill him. Right here. Right now. Snap his neck and deal with the consequences later.
But killing him will make Sera even more of a target. And there's no telling how my mother will react.
Instead, I step back. "Don't fucking push me on this, Alexei. The other families won't support you if you break the code."
"We'll see."
I straighten my cuffs, trying to get ahold of the anger brewing inside me. "Don't test me, Alexei. No one is invincible."
"Remember that yourself," he says as I walk away.
I'm back in my car when I feel the vibration of the phone in my pocket.
"What?" I answer, annoyance flaring up again. I want to get back to Sera. The things Alexei told me, the way he talked about her—it makes me nervous in a way I can't shake.
"Sir—" It's Henderson, one of my men stationed at the safe houses. His voice is wrong. Panicked. I'm immediately on edge. "Safe house three is under attack. Heavy fire. We have casualties—"
"What?" My blood goes cold. That's where Gabe is being held. Where Leo and Sera and my unborn child could still be. "Who's attacking?"
"Unknown. Multiple shooters." There's so much static I can barely hear him. "They came with explosives—we're trying to—"
"Is my wife there?" The words come out sharp. Too sharp.
"Yes sir, she's—fuck—" Gunfire erupts on the line. Screaming. An explosion so loud I have to pull the phone from my ear.
Then nothing.
The line goes dead.
"Henderson?" I'm already shouting at my driver. "Henderson!"
Nothing.
No answer. No sound. Just silence where there should be chaos.
Sera.
Sera is at that safe house.
Sera is under attack.
"Turn the car around!" I holler at my driver. "Safe house three. NOW."
There's no hesitation. We're speeding through the streets as fast as possible.
I dial Leo. It rings. And rings. And rings.
"Pick up," I snarl into the phone. "Pick up, goddammit!"
It goes to voicemail.
I try again.
Voicemail.
The safe house is in Queens. Twenty minutes in traffic. Maybe fifteen if we drive like we're willing to die.
I'm willing to die.
I dial another number. One of my lieutenants.
"Get everyone to safe house three," I order. "NOW. Full tactical. We have an active situation."
"Sir, what's happening?"
"Just fucking do it!"
I hang up.
Try Leo again.
Voicemail.
The streets blur past. Midtown. East Side. Queensboro Bridge.
Too slow. Everything is too slow.
My mind is racing faster than the car.
Who attacked?
The Morozovs? No. Alexei was with me. He looked as surprised by my call as I felt receiving it.
Someone else, then. Someone using Sera to get to me. To Gabriel. To both of us.
The embezzlement. The missing money. Gabriel on the run.
It all connects. It has to connect.
But I can't see how. Can't think past the roaring in my ears.
Sera.
My wife.
Carrying my child.
Under attack.
The car weaves through traffic. Runs a red light. Then another.
A cab honks. I don't care.
A pedestrian screams. I don't care.
Nothing matters except getting to her.
My phone rings. I answer without looking.
"Leo?"
"No." It's Gio, another of my men. "Sir, we're at the safe house. It's bad."
"How bad?"
"Six of our men are down. Three dead. The attackers are gone. And sir—"
"Where is my wife?" My voice doesn't sound like mine. It sounds feral. Desperate.
"Leo got her out. They're en route to the penthouse. She's alive."
The relief is so intense I nearly lose my grip on the phone.
Alive.
She's alive.
"Injuries?" I force the word out.
"Unsure. I didn't get eyes on her, but Leo has her."
"And Gabriel?"
A pause. "Gone, sir. He jumped out a window during the attack. We don't know if he survived."
Of course he did. Of course that little rat bastard ran.
"Find him," I order. "I want every resource on this. Find Gabriel Romano. And find out who attacked that safe house."
"Yes sir."
I hang up.
"Change of plans," I tell my driver. "The penthouse."
My hands are shaking. Actually shaking.
I grip my knees harder. Force myself to breathe.
She's alive.
She's safe.
Leo got her out.
But she was there. In danger. Because of me. Because I married her. Because her brother is a thief and a coward who dragged her into this mess.
The Morozovs want blood. Someone attacked my safe house. Gabriel is in the wind with a million dollars that isn't his.
And Sera is pregnant. Vulnerable. A target.
I should have kept her at the penthouse. Should have never let her go see Gabriel. Should have locked her away where no one could touch her.
But she would have hated me for it.
She already hates me.
The thought twists something in my chest.
I push it aside. Focus on getting to her.
The penthouse comes into view. I don't wait for the car to stop completely before I'm out the door.
The elevator ride takes forever.
When the doors finally open, I see Leo first. He's standing by the windows, phone to his ear, covered in blood.
Then I see her.