Chapter 13 #2
“Adriana,” His voice is shaky and scared. “I am so sorry about your father. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. And I hate to put you in such a difficult position right now with everything you have on your plate.”
“Thank you. You were smart to call Vincenzo, and I promise you that I will take care of this. Now, I need you to tell me exactly what they said when they came to your office.”
He takes a breath and gives me the run down.
Two men, Russian accents, polite but very threatening.
They said the DiMicheli family is finished, that their boss is in a coma, his daughter is playing dress-up, and anyone with half a brain can see the writing on the wall.
They offered him "better terms" with the Kozlovs.
Protection that actually means something.
And they made it clear that refusing wasn't really an option.
“They took my shipment, Adriana. Two-hundred-thousand dollars of inventory, stolen. They said it was a message. That if I didn’t respond to it, next time it could be my warehouse. Or my trucks. Or—" His voice breaks. “They mentioned my daughter's school. They know where to find her.”
Ice runs through my veins. Those fucking bastards, targeting an innocent kid. But I keep my voice steady.
“Okay,” I say when he finishes. “Here's what's going to happen. You're going to call Viktor Kozlov directly.”
“What?” Dominic's voice rises. “Are you insane? I can't—"
“You're going to call him and tell him that you appreciate the offer, but you already have partners. Specifically, you're going to mention that your company is currently in negotiations with Harrington-Cole Logistics for a major distribution contract.”
Silence on the other end.
“Harrington-Cole?” Dominic says slowly. “You mean the British company?”
“Yes. They're expanding into the Northeast, and they've been looking for a shipping partner. I happen to know Jenny Whitmore, their VP of Operations. We were on a panel together at a logistics conference last year.” I pause.
“If Viktor thinks you're about to sign a deal with a major international player, then suddenly you're not just some small shipping company he can push around.
You're a company with legitimate connections, contracts, and lawyers. Lots of lawyers. Lots of scrutiny. Lots of protection.”
“But I'm not actually in negotiations with Harrington-Cole,” he says.
“You will be by end of day. I'll make a call. Jenny owes me a favor.” I smile as the plan comes together in my mind.
“The Russians aren't afraid of guns, Dominic.
They have plenty of their own. But they're very afraid of attention. Of anything that might bring federal investigators sniffing around. A high-profile international partnership does exactly that.”
Lochlan watches me. The heat of his gaze makes my skin tingle.
“So I just... call him?” Dominic asks, his voice edged with nerves. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Yes. Show him he can’t bully you like that. Be polite but firm that you're moving in a different direction with this partnership. If he pushes back, you mention that your new partners have very good relationships with customs officials. Let him read between the lines.”
A long pause follows. Then Dominic blows out a breath. “Jesus, Adriana. That's...”
“That's business. My business. And now it's protecting yours.” I drop my voice, softening it just a tiny bit. “You're under DiMicheli protection, Dominic. That hasn't changed. But the kind of protection I offer looks a little different than what my father provided. Less blood. More leverage.”
“Okay. Okay, I'll do it.”
“Call me right after. And Dominic? Thank you again for coming to us and letting us know about the situation. That's what family does. We are loyal.”
I click to end the call.
When I turn around, Vincenzo is standing at the end of the hallway, eyebrows knitted together. I walk over to him, a wide smile stretching across my face.
“Dominic is going to call Kozlov directly,” I say. “He's going to tell them he's not interested in their offer because he's entering a partnership with Harrington-Cole Logistics.”
“He’s what?” Vincenzo's eyebrows rise. “With the British company?”
Pride flares in my chest. “I'm going to make it happen. By the time the Russians look into it, there'll be a real deal on the table. They wanted to test the new leadership. Now they know what they're dealing with. Someone who can make their lives very complicated without firing a single shot.”
Vincenzo reaches his arms around me and hugs me tight. “Oh, bella mia, your father would be so proud,” he says. “That was brilliantly done.”
“Well, it's not over yet. I still need to make that call to their VP of Operations to make sure the Harrington-Cole angle is solid.”
“Of course,” he says. “But your approach was exactly right. And don’t worry, I'll handle the follow-up with Dominic. You make your calls. And then, for God's sake, go get some rest. You look exhausted.”
“Thanks, Zio. For everything you do.”
He smiles. That warm, familiar smile that reminds me of being a little girl, sitting on his knee while he told me stories about the old country. My God, I long for simpler times. But I am so grateful to have him by my side through all of this. He’s one of the best people I know.”
“Always, bella. Always.”
He heads back down the hallway, his phone already at his ear.
I stand there for a moment, letting the adrenaline settle. Lochlan walks over.
“That was impressive,” he says.
I smile. “Thank you. That was survival.”
“Call it whatever you want. It was fucking great.”
“You didn't try to help,” I say.
“Why would I? You didn't need help from anyone.”
“Yeah, but most men would have jumped in anyway. Taken the opportunity to put in their two cents.”
“How many times do I need to say it? I'm not most men.” He tilts his head slightly. “Besides, I couldn't have done that. I don't know any British logistics VPs or whatever you call them. My approach would have involved more of a... direct conversation.”
“You mean you’d have gone in there and busted some skulls.”
He grins. “You think I’m some kind of brute?”
I laugh. Actually laugh. It feels strange in this hallway, outside my father's ICU room, in the middle of a crisis. But it happens anyway.
“All I know is I keep getting surprised by you.” I nod toward the elevator. “Come on,” I say. “I need to make that call to Jenny, and I can't do it here. Too many people.”
We take the elevator to the lobby and walk out into the June sunshine together. The heat hits me like a wall after the aggressive air conditioning inside.