Chapter Twelve
Mikhail’s POV
It took several minutes for me to bring my mind to this meeting. It was later in the afternoon on the day of the attack. I was in my home office with my brothers, yet I couldn’t get my whole mind off her until Viktor called me to order, twice.
Normally, such a meeting would have held at any of our warehouses, but I suggested it be held in my office at the penthouse.
While I didn’t explicitly state it, my reason was simple: I didn’t want to leave her alone.
My brain knew the attack couldn’t be repeated within such a short time frame, and she’d be safe.
But my heart didn’t like the thought of leaving her at the penthouse.
And there was the mystery that was wrapped around her like a blanket; it was driving me crazy.
The shock I felt when she grabbed a secret gun and joined in the gunfight like a fearless fighter was probably second to none.
I couldn’t deprive her of sleep when the attack already did that.
But I wanted answers today, I just didn’t know if I’d get them.
I was surprised and glad when Viktor agreed to meet Roman and me at my penthouse.
“Roman, your sources also point to the Italians?” Viktor inquired.
“Positive, brother. I hadn’t even gotten anything on the findings of Mikhail’s men before I came down here with the information. My main men clearly heard some VIP clients at the casino ramble about Caruso’s side clashing with the Lobanov Bratva because of an unexpected snake.”
“The fucking snake is none other than him. Marco,” I uttered, my anger rising at the mention of his name.
“Now, that’s not the worst of it,” Viktor revealed, steepling his fingers.
“What? He owes the Bratva more money than we thought?” Roman inquired.
“His betrayal runs farther than we thought. Not just of us, of his family.”
Hearing the discussion head in the direction of his family made me sit upright, a protective curiosity taking over. My wife was the bastard’s family. So, even if she was technically a Lobanov, she was still Marco’s family, the only family he now had.
“Marco seems to have sold his son out. To the Italians,” Viktor said.
“Not to the Irish?” Roman questioned.
“The Irish may not have been involved at all. Sergei’s records, however, weren’t untrue.
But the timing wasn’t accurate; it created a loophole.
The Irish did set out to cut Giovanni off, but there was a bigger play at hand.
Sergei thought the Bratva was standing back and letting him fall to the Irish since he was already skimming from us.
But their standing back also means they weren’t close enough to the hit to find out that it didn’t come from the Irish. It came from the Italian Mafia.”
“Marco has been two-timing, with the Italians, so…he was involved in his son’s death?” I mused.
“The suspicion, which, by all standards, appears to be the truth, is that Marco promised Giovanni as a sacrificial pawn to the Italian Mafia. Sold him out. Stepped aside and let them have him.”
“Cold,” Roman commented.
“It had nothing to do with the Irish mob and everything to do with the Italians,” Viktor disclosed. “Still does. This attack apparently came from them.”
“All of this is more complicated than it seems,” Roman said.
“All because of one motherfucking betrayer. I’ll find him and end him. Just give the orders, bro. Let’s end this once and for all,” I spat.
While I was angry that Marco was even more vicious than I thought, Isabella’s automatic involvement in it all sparked a fury in me. My urge to kill him was potent.
“Cool it, Mikhail,” Viktor answered, his voice cool as ever.
“Marco’s affairs keep unraveling like a puzzle.
We don’t know the exact reason for this attack from the Italians, so why should we go all out against Marco right now?
Think beyond him. This could spiral into war with half of Manhattan, and you know that would be an unnecessary risk. ”
“So, what do we do? Wait for them to attack again? Reach out to us?” I asked, still impatient.
“We wait and watch Marco from a distance since he seems to be the one setting things off,” Roman answered, shrugging.
“Of course, you know this, Mikhail. You’re just too emotional to see it right now,” Viktor pointed out.
“Marco is still in hiding from the Bratva. We’ll survey his movements from a distance rather than attack him.
The only thing we need now is leverage; Isabella is exactly that. She’s a wife and a weapon.”
The mention of her name ignited a protective instinct in me.
I wanted to hide her away in a safe place, away from all this chaos.
But this was the same woman who shot at the attackers by my side, instead of running behind me.
So, maybe hiding her away wouldn’t happen, after all.
However, it changed nothing about the fact that I’d protect her in every way possible.
After a two-second pause, Viktor went on.