Page 26 of A Bride for the Mafia King

“I said,” I bite out, “you redirected Giovanni. Told him to break his pattern of going to the den where they hold the new girls each night. He’s supposed to be there to check the new inventory.” I hate saying it that way. The words themselves feel dirty. “He never showed.”

Nico’s brow furrows. “How would I possibly know that? I’m no more involved in that business than you are. And I didn’t know anything about you ordering the hit. Even if I did, why would I warn him? It does me nothing but good to have him gone –”

I cut him off, taking a step forward threateningly. “I’m asking the questions.”

His mouth shuts and he takes a deep breath. Anger radiates from him as I circle him slowly.

“My men are under strict instructions to take Giovanni out,” I say quietly. “And somehow, by some miracle or forewarning, the man alters a routine he’s maintained for years.”

I see the flicker in Nico’s eyes, the defensive coil of a man who knows he’s facing life or death. But the fury boiling in my chest doesn’t give a shit about explanations or excuses. I take another step forward and, before I can stop myself, my fist flies.

The crack of my knuckles against his jaw bone ricochets through the room. Nico staggers back, gripping his face, blood already forming at the corner of his lip.

“Son of a bitch –”

“You think I’ll go easy on you just because you're my wife’s brother?” I roar, fury overriding logic, past diplomacy, “I won’t. Not if you're the reason that bastard still breathes.”

Gathering himself, he surges back at me. We collide, grappling hard. For a moment, fists fly and grunts fill the space, knuckles meet flesh, legs slam into furniture. The two of us crash over the few pieces that decorate the room.

I slam him into the wall and he shoves me back, putting just enough distance between us for me to pull my gun.

“Don’t test me, Nico,” I warn, aiming right between his eyes. “I’ll paint that wall with your blood and still sleep like a baby tonight.”

That’s a lie.

“Do it,” he spits. “If you think I betrayed you, then do it.”

“Tolya – stop!” Eva’s voice rings through the room. Desperate. “Mila, go back to the studio and stay there!” she orders sharply.

Then she’s there, stepping in front of me. Directly in the line of fire between the barrel of my pistol and her brother.

I freeze. Time stops and I lower it instantly.

“Are you insane, Eva?” I growl, my voice cracked and low.

The sight of her standing at the end of my gun sight ignites a different kind of rage in me altogether. She doesn’t back down. Her eyes lock on mine, unflinching.

“What’s this all about, Tolya?”

“You have no idea what he may have done!” I snap.

The gun in my hand suddenly feels heavier than any weapon I’ve ever held. I return the piece to its holster, cursing under my breath as I back away a single step. Reaching for her and pulling her with me.

She comes to me willingly enough. Turning to face Nico, who’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and muttering something in Italian that I don’t catch.

“I swear to you, it wasn’t me,” Nico says quickly. “I didn’t know about the hit.”

“You swear to me?” I echo. “You lie to me again and the next time I draw on you, I won’t hesitate.”

“I’m not lying,” he insists, still catching his breath. “I damn sure didn’t warn Giovanni. I’d celebrate if he vanished. But I didn’t warn him.”

“Will someone tell me what the hell this is all about?” Eva shouts, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Both Nico and I break from watching each other to look at her and I realize she’s shaking. Not just her hands, but all over. Her hair is disheveled, half up, half down. Eyes wide and burning. She looks between us like we’re unrecognizable, like we’re monsters.

Nico is the first to answer.

“Your husband,” he says bitterly, wiping more blood from his face, “set up a hit on Giovanni. Someone tipped him off and he changed his routine out of nowhere and the op failed. He seems to be under the very misguided belief that I am the one who tipped him off.”