“If Kingston has a girl, we have to vet her.” Royce made no fucking sense sometimes. “And if she’s shooting at you—” He slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Yeah, we can’t have that.”
“I. Don’t. Have. A. Girl.” My teeth were clenched so hard, my molars were about to crack.
“Ohhh… okaaaay,” Royce appeased with a drawl, rolling his eyes.
My gaze flicked to Winston, who shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me.”
“Who’s this girl?” Byron stared at me, nothing but genuine interest and concern in his eyes. “We just want to meet her.”
I headed past them, making my way to the bar. If my siblings were planning on lingering, I’d need a stiff one.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, then glanced over my shoulder. “Help yourselves.”
Winston shook his head. He gave up alcohol for his wife. Alessio and Byron poured themselves drinks, and Royce went for a beer.
“You know, baby brother, if she’s trying to kill you, you might need to let her free,” Royce stated, circling back to the previous topic. Unfortunately. “This girl might not be the right one.”
“I don’t have a girl,” I pointed out again. Clearly, he was slow to grasp. “You’ve made a wrong assumption. Again.”
“It’s not what I’m hearing,” Royce muttered. “That bullet in your headboard says star-crossed lovers heading for tragedy.”
“It worked for Romeo and Juliet,” I deadpanned.
“They ended up dead,” Byron pointed out.
I shrugged. “We all die one day.”
“Morbid, but true,” Alessio agreed. “Is there a reason your girl would want you dead?”
I didn’t answer. There was no easy way to explain it. Or maybe there was, but I wouldn’t give it to them.
“Do you want us to take care of her?” Royce’s words barely left his mouth before I was in his face.
“You get anywhere near her, I’ll fucking kill you.” The threat slipped through my lips effortlessly. It was a big fucking slipup. “She’s mine to take care of.”
Over my dead body would I let anyone—including my own brothers—touch Liana. If my promise to Lou ended up broken, it would be because I did it.
Someone in the room let out a low whistle, but I kept my eyes on Royce. My brother stared at me for a heartbeat before breaking out into a full-blown grin.
“You really like her.” After a long moment of silence, he slapped my shoulder. “I guess we’re gonna have two mad killers in our family.”
“How do you know she’s a killer?” Winston questioned.
“Nico Morrelli,” Alessio answered.
“Word is that Sofia Volkov’s daughter has been working behind her mother’s back,” Royce supplied.
It was the single topic that had been avoided like bullets in our family since I resurfaced. The name hovered in the air, stained with filth. Yet today, it was thrown around like candy.
“Was the finger the reason for your sudden interest?” I demanded, watching Royce like a hawk.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I wanted to spare you.”
“And you thought you’d learn who that body part belonged to… How?” Winston asked incredulously.
Royce just shrugged. “People talk.”
“What does she have against you?” Byron asked, ignoring Royce, who was obviously full of shit. “Why is she shooting at you?”
I shrugged, unwilling to admit her sister’s name slipped through my lips after I’d come into my hand like a teenage boy. It would require more explanation, and I wasn’t willing to go there with them.
“Maybe if you show her the old you…” Winston watched me as I stilled. My brothers still looked for that Kingston—unwilling to come to terms with his metaphorical death.
My life had become tightly intertwined with the underworld. I could cut all ties, but even then, I’d forever be the ghost. The killer. The boy who fought to survive.
“Do you want to kill her?” Royce joked, sipping his beer with a smirk. “Or want us to give you pointers on how to win her over?”
“Jesus, don’t take any advice from Royce,” Winston muttered. “You’re gonna lose your woman before you even get her.”
“Just tell us what help you need from us,” Byron offered, picking up on my silence.
I downed my drink in one go and locked eyes with Winston. “I’m gonna need that jet, big brother,” I reminded him. It was something I’d lined up with him almost a year ago. Of course, I never thought it’d take this long to get my hands on her.
He nodded.
“Are you sure it’s smart to fuck with anything related to Sofia Volkov? Anyone with a will to live would keep the fuck away.” Alessio’s question was warranted, but I wasn’t just anyone, and my will to live was extinguished eight years ago.
“Except she isn’t with Sofia,” I said. Once she was in Cortes’s clutches, it’d be harder to get her back. If she was about to be put up for auction, he’d be damn sure to make her life hell. “Perez plans to use her for a flesh auction, or the Marabella arrangements if he doesn’t fetch the right price.”
My brothers’ eyes on me, I suddenly knew without a doubt that—with them on my side—nothing could stop me.
“I don’t follow.” Alessio cleared his throat. “Are you going to participate in the auction?”
It was my last resort. “I made a promise a while back. Sofia’s daughter is part of that promise. Besides, it’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Sofia will go nuts, and I get to keep my promise.”
Understanding washed over their expressions.
“What do you need us to do?” Royce asked.
“It’s best you don’t know where I go, and don’t look for me while I’m gone,” I said seriously. “Once I have her, I’m going to disappear for a while.”
And the Omertà wouldn’t find us.
Chapter 27Liana
The sound of shattering glass woke me up.
I jolted upright, my eyes landing on the bedside table. I blinked as the digits came into focus. It was almost eleven in the morning. I gasped, realizing I’d slept for almost twelve hours straight. I hadn’t slept that long in… forever.
“Who in the fuck puts a glass on the edge of the counter?” came Giovanni’s irritated voice.
I winced, knowing full well I was the culprit. Giovanni didn’t have maids, and I was too accustomed to someone cleaning up after me. During the past three days, it had become obvious to me that Giovanni was a happy bachelor. He didn’t like people in his space, but he insisted I hide in his penthouse. It wasn’t the ideal cohabitation scenario.
The world thought I was dead. My phone—all of my purse contents, actually, were destroyed in the explosion. But here I was, lying low and plotting.
My throat tightened for a moment, remembering all the times my sister and I had drawn up escape plans growing up. Even when we were little and could be easily distracted from what went on in the dungeons of our estate in Russia, we were always looking ahead at a life where we’d be free of our mother and Ivan.
And here I was now—free of my mother. Lou would be so excited at our prospects.
God, I missed her. I hadn’t been there to save her. To protect her. Why, dammit? For the life of me, I couldn’t remember anything but what my mother told me. However, after the comment by Giovanni’s uncle, I was starting to suspect my mother’s words had all been lies. Except, what was the truth?
All of this was slowly driving me insane.
But if I stayed the course and let Giovanni help me, I’d take everyone responsible for my sister’s destiny down. Some parts of the plan were finally unfolding, and my lips curled into a smile remembering how we ended the old Santiago Tijuana, making him scream like a pig.
Exhaling, I wiped a hand over my eyes. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t enjoyed the sound of his agonizing gurgles. He deserved it. Perez would get to taste my wrath soon too.