Chapter 34
Alexei
Islip the Zippo lighter from my pocket and flick the lid open and shut. Open and shut. The click, click…click, click takes the edge off my irritation.
Across the study, they won’t stop staring at me, as if I’m a zoo animal. Rocco says Ethan looks like my grandfather and my father, and I do, too, so maybe that’s why.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise—we’re all cut from the same cloth. Rossi men share the same features: wavy, almost-black hair, onyx eyes, and a strong, stocky build. Ethan is one exception; my brother Niko is another. They both have those gunmetal-gray eyes. Wait until they see him.
I’m the oldest of the New York City boys, besides Ethan, and Rocco’s understudy.
Next are the twins, who only care about breaking the law, not practicing it.
They’re the reason we need lawyers in this family.
Niko is a few years younger than them, but his focus is on hockey and numbing his heartache.
Paxton doesn’t share our last name, but he’s still one of us—except our grandmother made it clear she didn’t want him entangled in the Rossi family.
She wanted him to spread his wings and become a famous dancer or figure skater or whatever, like his mother.
Problem is, he doesn’t remember his mother or any of his relatives—he only knows us, prefers us.
Thanks for fucking up my brother, Grandma, for absolutely no damn reason.
Click, click…click, click.
The twins have an older sister. She’s married, well cared for, and loves her role as a busy mom. Other than that, we have a handful of cousins in Russia, two upstate, and one in Canada.
Ethan’s return has reshaped the Rossi business and nearly every aspect of my life, leaving me a bit more abrasive than I’d like.
The twins have a permanent spot with Ethan and a boyfriend they found in LA.
They’re not keeping things straight at the clubs anymore, and I’m constantly being called.
Rocco is obsessed with Harper and itching to settle down, which means I need to pass the bar exam to take on some of his caseload.
My father is retiring from the Stars organization—Ethan is assuming his position—and Dad plans to spend more time overseas.
Not only will Niko miss our mother, but he’ll be entirely my responsibility.
I don’t know Ethan yet, but from what Rocco tells me, he might be better at handling Niko than our father, so that’s one silver lining.
Harper’s brother flips his baseball cap around and levels me with an icy glare. I can’t say I blame him—I’m glaring right back.
Reece didn’t appreciate me telling him he wasn’t needed in South Carolina. He let this happen to Harper; that alone is enough for me to dislike him. If someone abused my sister, fuck a divorce—they’d be ash.
After talking to Harper’s husband, I find Reece’s whole family intolerable. Why the hell would I want him tagging along?
“Dude, respectfully, why are you mean-mugging him?” That’s Jackson, Ethan’s partner—the opposite of us in terms of appearance. He’s leaner, lighter, prettier, exactly who I’d expect to see on a California beach. And he’s cocky, like all hockey players.
Click, click…click, click. “I’m wondering how the fuck you let this happen.” I direct my reply to Reece.
His eyes narrow, but his expression takes on a bored quality. “I wasn’t there.”
“He wasn’t there,” West Coast reinforces, his body angled slightly in front of Reece. “He was in the military. Being a hero.” His tone carries just enough snark to lighten the mood but not enough to be offensive or mocking.
Reece shoots him a side-eye, a hint of gratitude in his gaze, while Des snickers beside me. Lucas, the twins’ silent boyfriend, stirs on Dante’s lap, and Dante holds him tighter.
Ethan clasps the back of Jackson’s neck and hauls him closer. “Be good,” he growls in his ear.
The warning only makes Jackson shiver and smile. Ethan shakes his head and releases him.
Then that steely gaze lands on me. “Reece just found out. That’s why we’re here—to work together, not play the blame game or attack what’s mine.” His hard stare never wavers.
Click, click…click, click.
He’s used to being in charge, a natural leader. He’s drawing a line in the sand, setting his expectations from the start. He might be a Rossi—he’s definitely a Rossi—but his immediate family comes first. I can respect that.
“Capiche?” Rocco adds.
“Understood.” I nod. “I still don’t think anyone else is needed. I have it handled.”
Reece leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s your plan?”
“To get her husband to sign the divorce papers and custody agreement.” By any means necessary, those were Rocco’s explicit orders. “I’ve already spoken to the asshole.”
“How?” Reece’s brows knit into a scowl. “What’d he say?”
“I answered your sister’s phone—with her permission. Daniel said your family doesn’t believe—no—doesn’t allow women the right to divorce,” I correct.
Ethan and West Coast turn their gaze on Reece with matching what-the-fuck expressions. My thoughts exactly.
Jackson’s eyes widen as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Is that why you want to get married? Because you think Aurora can’t divorce you? You got some cult compound somewhere?” He nods, slow and deliberate. “And you tried to destroy my tracker. I’m connecting the dots, Viking.”
Reece cocks his head. “If I wanted to take her, I know far better places to hide than a church community. I was in special operations. I’m a survivalist. I’d find a cabin in some secluded mountains.”
“Fuck it.” West Coast tosses his hands up. “I’ll put a chip in her neck.”
Are these two serious?
“Go right ahead.” Reece motions to him. “Doesn’t matter. What are you gonna do? Go searching for her? Go hiking? You’re terrified of bugs.”
Dante snorts. Des doubles over. Rocco watches with an amused expression. I admit, they’re comical. Not what I expected.
“I am not!” Jackson insists, voice elevated. “I hate bug bites. Who doesn’t? And I’ve been hiking. I lived on a mountain, dickhead.”
“Beverly Hills is not a mountain, moron,” Reece snaps back.
“I lived in Bel Air, not Beverly Hills, inside the Santa Monica Mountains. See? This is how I dodged you so easily. Beverly Hills is a luxury shopping district. It’s urban and flat. Bel Air is massive, with secluded estates on rough terrain.”
“Yeah, okay,” Reece grumbles, sarcasm thick in his tone. “So rough, you drove your limited-edition Ducati through it.”
From what I understand, Jackson’s wealth rivals ours, which is pretty impressive. Add in Lorenzo’s order of protection, Ethan’s infatuation with him, and my father’s eagerness to get him on the Stars, and he ends up at the top of the Rossi priority list—second to Aurora, and now Harper and Danny.
Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose and releases a frustrated breath.
“Can you two stop bickering for five fucking seconds so we can finish? The longer we leave Aurora, the higher the chance of her getting into trouble. She’s probably on the phone with Bennett right now, sweet-talking her into leaving the twins alone and arresting Daniel. ”
With one last glare, Reece and Jackson turn away from each other.
I pocket my lighter. These three are peak entertainment, and if Ethan can handle that chaos, I’ll give him a shot at my brother.
“That’s pretty much it. Des and Dante never left the hospital.
The firm is clean. Do whatever you have to do with your commander.
Quit. Have Dimitri call her.” I cut a glance at the twins. “Up to you.”
My trust is rare, especially when it comes to law enforcement. I’d never date a federal agent, but that’s on them.
Doubt burns in my eyes, and I keep my gaze away from Lucas. I might be the designated clean-up in this family, but Dante still scares the shit out of me. I’d rather not wake up with a serrated knife buried between my ribs because I looked at his boyfriend wrong.
Reece juts his chin. “Did…ah…Daniel say anything else?”
“He threw out some threats. I told him Harper is one of us; she’s represented by the Rossi Law Firm. I advised him to do his research, made it clear I wanted to wrap this up quickly and painlessly. With any luck, he’ll use Google and rethink his opposition.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Reece asks.
I shrug, palms open. “He can discuss the divorce with God.”