New York. It’s cold and hectic in a conformed way. Men and women hurry down the sidewalks in their suits, phones pressed to their ears. Stepping out of the car, I glance up at the sleek skyscraper stretching towards the midnight blue sky, lit up like a beacon. The low rumble of the subway echoes through the grates beneath my feet, sending a whoosh of foul smelling air whirling around me.

I don’t want to be here. The urge to fly to Russia is eating away at me, but I know it’s pointless without a plan. I hate knowing that she’s there, and I’m here.

As soon as we step inside the building, a guy jerks his head at us, pressing the button for an elevator. There’re no buttons for any floors, and the numbers keep ticking by until we reach the top. Of course, Nero would live in the penthouse.

The doors glide open, and the sight of several guns pointed at us greets us.

“Let them in,” a voice shouts from somewhere. The guns drop, and the two guys step back, allowing us into the penthouse. Nero strides across the lobby, his expression tight. The guy looks more like a fashion model than a mafia boss, but he’s not to be underestimated.

“Nero.”

“Rafael. This is Gio and Jackson.” He points to the two guys with the guns, both steely and Italian-looking.

I nod. “Carlos and Samuel.”

“Ivanov called Una. He wants a trade.”

“Of what?”

Nero pinches the bridge of his nose, stress lines sinking into the corners of his eyes. “Una for Anna.”

I can see in his eyes, that’s not a trade he’s willing to make. “I’ll go after the Russian myself if I have to,” I say.

Nero laughs. “And you would die. This guy…” He shakes his head. “Whatever you’ve heard or think you know, it’s so much worse.”

I catch sight of movement behind Nero just as Gio mumbles under his breath. “Ah, shit.” A tiny little blonde woman steps around Nero, springs off the floor and lands in front of me, driving her fist into my jaw. The blow snaps my head to the side and leaves me reeling. Jesus. Samuel must have reached for his gun because when I look up, she has a gun pointed at his head and pure murder in her violet-colored eyes. She looks just like Anna, but harder, vicious, ruthless in a way Anna could never be. This would be Una then.

“I will shoot your worthless, sack of shit ass where you stand,” she says.

I rub my jaw, glancing at Nero. “She always like this?” He shrugs one shoulder before shifting to stand beside her. His hand glides around her waist, coming to rest on her stomach. And it’s then that I notice the bump stretching the material of her black hoody. She’s pregnant. My eyes snap from her stomach to Nero’s face. He’s watching me intently. Well, no wonder he was so keen to get her back.

“They’re here to help,” Nero says.

“Loco puta,” Sam mumbles. Idiot. She pistol-whips him across the bridge of his nose without ever taking her eyes off me. Sam groans and clutches his broken nose. Nero clears his throat to cover a laugh.  

“You lost my sister,” she snarls through gritted teeth.

I swipe a hand over my face. “Do not think that I take this lightly. The Russians shot three of my men.” I stare back at her, refusing to back down. We both have a lot at stake here, in the form of Anna, but honestly, if it weren’t for her sister, Anna never would have been in any danger. This isn’t about me. It’s about Una.

“I don’t give a fuck about your men! You promised me she was safe with you.”

“She was heavily guarded, and in one of my houses that only my closest men know about.”

“Well then, it looks like one of your closest men is a rat, Rafael,” she growls, glaring at Samuel and Carlos.

“One of the men who was shot was my brother,” Carlos says.

“I. Don’t. Care. If I were you, my only concern would be the fact that my sister is gone.” She says to him. I place a hand on his arm to stop him from moving. “Do you know who I am?" she asks quietly, stepping up to him until they’re toe-to-toe. “If I don’t get her back, I’m going to come to Mexico and end your entire fucking cartel.”

“O-kay…” Nero wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her back against his chest. “They came to help.” She shrugs away from him and paces the length of the room. She’s tiny, but the way she moves screams dangerous. Her feet whisper over the ground, her movements lithe and graceful. I know exactly who she is, and yet it’s so hard to believe that this girl is one of the most lethal and sought after contract killers in the world. Looking at her causes an ache to settle in my chest. Her mannerisms are nothing like Anna’s, but they look so alike. Una’s hair is white blonde to Anna’s golden, and where Anna has sapphire blue eyes, Una’s are the strangest shade of lilac, but the features are the same.

She keeps pacing, and it’s like watching a caged wild animal, waiting for it to snap and rip off a handler’s arm. There’s something rabid and feral about her. Nero is a far braver man than I, to not only blackmail this girl but then fuck her and get her knocked up. I’m starting to question the Italian’s sanity.

Eventually, she whirls around and walks away, crossing the lobby and disappearing through the doorway.

Nero sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “I’m assuming that’s your kid?” I say.

He glares at me. “Yes, which is why it would have been great if you could have kept the girl safe like I fucking asked.”

My temper spikes dangerously, and I step closer to him, my fists tightening at my sides. His men tense beside him, and I smile. “As far as Nicholia Ivanov is concerned, you have taken his angel of death from him. Anna is innocent in all this shit, and now she’s being used to get to her sister.”

He sighs heavily. “I’m aware. But I can’t let Una go to him, not with the child.”

I know that if Anna were here, she’d never want Una to endanger her child, but that selfish part of me doesn’t care. The pain in my chest burrows even deeper as the gravity of the situation fully settles over me. “I need her back, Nero,” I whisper.

His whiskey-colored eyes lock with mine, and something passes between us, an understanding. Man to man. We’re two men resigned to the crippling weakness of love. Two men who shouldn’t be affected by such things, and yet here we are.

He nods. “As do I, because if we don’t get her back, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep Una from doing something stupid.”

“She’d sacrifice herself for Anna?”

His lips press together in a hard line. “In a heartbeat.”

I glance through the open doorway and can just about make out the form of Una silhouetted against the huge window, the lights of the New York skyline illuminating the space around her. Her shoulders are tight with stress as she watches the city below. Nero follows my gaze, his brows pinching together as he watches her. I know the look in his eye well. Love and fear—because the two are not mutually exclusive, are they?

“Gio, take them into the office and get them a drink. I’ll speak with Una,” he says before walking towards the doorway.

Gio leads the way down a hallway of the sleek, modern penthouse. All the exterior walls are nothing but floor-to-ceiling glass, offering an uninterrupted view of the bustling city far below. He opens a door, and we file into an office. There are no windows in here, only bookshelves covering every inch of wall. Three leather couches sit facing a coffee table, and a large desk sits near the back wall.

“How very Godfather,” Carlos remarks.

The Italians say nothing. Jackson, who I figure is the muscle, takes a seat on one of the couches while Gio starts pouring glasses of liquor from a decanter. He hands me one, and I take a seat. I stare at the glass of amber liquid, my thoughts drifting to Anna again. I’m doing all I can. I’m here with the Italians. I’ve left my cartel on the brink of war to get her back, and I can’t even find it within me to care.

Gio places something on the coffee table in front of us, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance down at what looks like a floor plan. “This is the base where Una believes Nicholai will be keeping Anna.”

“What’s the security like?” Samuel asks.

Jackson throws his head back on a laugh. “It’s the main base for his Elite.”

“How many?”

“Hundreds.” He nods his head towards the door. “Hundreds like her.” Sam lifts a brow and glances at me. I shake my head because I don’t want to be reminded of how impossible our odds are right now. “The base has only one entrance in and out, and the gate is heavily guarded, with a two-mile-long approach road. If you can get within a mile of the gate without being shot by their long-range snipers, you then have to get in the gate. If you’d seen these guys fight or shoot, then you’d know how difficult that will be. Then you’ve got a blast-proof concrete bunker with an underground base, all filled with Elite.”

The door opens, and Una steps inside followed closely by Nero. She glances at the plans on the table without much interest.

Nero moves to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of whiskey. Dark shadows linger beneath his eyes, and I can only imagine what it’s like to have a woman like Una Ivanov carrying your child. He swallows the whiskey in two gulps and turns his attention to the plans sitting across from me. Una takes a seat next to him, and he lays a possessive hand on her thigh. She says nothing as everyone goes backward and forward, coming to the same conclusion again and again. There is no way to break into that base. Anna is not getting out unless Nicholai willingly releases her.

I can’t take this. I’ve never felt so frustrated or helpless. I’m a cartel boss, and even with the help of the Italian mafia, I can’t get back the only thing I really give a fuck about. Pushing to my feet, I spit a curse and slam my hand against the wall.

Una gets up and walks out. She feels it too. I know she does. We’re both so close to losing something we love. She was never even reunited with her sister, and she already faces losing her again after all this time without her.

* * *

I sit in Nero’s front room with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. I need the liquor to calm my nerves and enable me to simply sit still. Doing nothing—it’s the hardest thing. Action, blood, violence; these are the things I understand. I’m losing control, and I’ve never felt so lost.

Someone clears their throat, and I glance up to find Samuel leaning against the door frame.

“Miguel called.” Miguel is Sam’s most trusted guy, the one left to oversee everything in our absence. “The Sinaloa just burned one of our factories to the ground and shot up Red’s.” I drag a hand through my hair, trying to muster the will to care about anything other than Anna for a second. Leaving Miguel was stupid. He’s capable, but I don’t trust him the way I do Samuel or Carlos.

“Send Carlos home.”

“I can go.”

I shake my head. “No, I need you,” I say quietly. I need Samuel’s logical, rational way of thinking. I need my friend because I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion right now.

He nods. “Okay. I’ll send him back.” He leaves the room without another word. And here I sit, my world tipping precariously on its axis as this rage festers away inside me. The penthouse quiets, and the darkness embraces me. The city lights spread out beyond the windows like a sea of stars, and it makes me think of Anna. Didn’t anyone ever tell you? You can’t see the stars without the dark. It’s apt really because, without her, everything seems pitch black. She is the stars.

I light another cigar and inhale the smoke deep into my lungs as though its burning pain can erase this hollow ache in my chest. I hear movement behind me and glance around to see one of Nero’s Doberman’s trotting across the living room excitedly. I barely notice the shadowy figure lingering at the bottom of the stairs until the dog stops in front of her. Una watches me through narrowed eyes, her hand behind her back, no doubt reaching for a gun.

“You’re going to him,” I say. I think I knew she would because I would. I only have to look at her to see all of my own feelings mirrored back at me. We’re both helpless, but she has the power to do something.

“Do not try and stop me. I do what I must.”

I lean forward, allowing the cigar to hang loosely from my fingers as I prop my elbows on my thighs. “You will sacrifice yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

“And your child? You will sacrifice your child for her?”

Her eyes flash, her jaw ticking. “I thought you…felt something for her.”

I sigh and push to my feet, guilt and sheer fucking desperation riding me as I step in front of her. “Yes,” I breathe, swallowing heavily. “But Anna would never wish you to sacrifice an innocent child, Angel.”

“I have a plan.”

I lift the cigar to my lips, taking a slow drag. “Ah, you and Nero and your plans.”

“This one…it doesn’t involve Nero.” So she’s turning on him for her sister, running off to Russia with his child in her belly. This will break him. I imagine Anna. What would she say to this? I know she’d never allow it. Maybe I should stop Una, but I fucking can’t because I know that without this, Anna is lost to me. Love is selfish for a man like me.

“How do you know he will release Anna?” What if he simply keeps them both?

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t.” When someone as accomplished as Una looks so unsure, you know shit is bad. “I need you to do me a favor,” she says. I nod. “If he doesn’t release Anna, bargain for her return. Once he has me, he doesn’t need her. Let him put her to good use elsewhere.”

“Bargain what?”

“You have a port…”

“Yes.”

“Offer him the use of it. Getting arms over the southern border is the easiest access point into America, but the cartels won’t allow the Russians any foothold.”

I say nothing, my thoughts racing through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. “That would cause problems,” I murmur, even knowing that there is nothing that I would not do for Anna.

She glances nervously towards the top of the stairs. “Look, it won’t be for long. Anyway, Nicholai is not one to break his word. I think he’ll let her go.”

I shake my head. I don’t think he’ll let her go. I wouldn’t if I had that kind of collateral. “You are his favored pet, Angel. And you have proven unruly. He has the means to control you. Do not think that he will give that up easily.” I sigh and rub a hand over the back of my neck. A strange sense of guilt niggles at me, not for any kind of moral obligation but simply because I know Anna would hate this. She’d hate me for letting Una do this. “Go. I did not see you.”

“Thank you.”

“And Una…”

“Yes?”

I glance at her rounded stomach. “Be safe.”

She walks out of the room, and I hear the muted ding of the elevator before I push to my feet, stubbing the cigar out in the ashtray. Sooner or later someone will realize she’s missing. I’m not sure how she slipped away without Nero noticing in the first place. I’m not sure I want to know.

I ascend the stairs to the second level where Nero allocated us guest rooms. I open the door at the end of the hallway and slip inside. My head is swimming with whiskey, but still, I can’t drown out my own thoughts. Like a swarm of furious bees, they black out everything, stinging me over and over with vile possibilities and what ifs. What if I can’t get her back? What if Una can’t get her back? What if Nicholai keeps her? What if he kills her? And most of all, what if I do get her back, only to have lost not only her sister but also an innocent child? Will she hate me?

I fall back on the bed and clutch at my head. In times of war, we do what we must. My father used to say that to me to justify the blood and death that I would bathe in for him. This is war, isn’t it? The Russian and I, we are standing on two sides of a board with opposing wants. In essence, I should have no fight with him, no cause for offense. Anna should never have been worthy of any such cause, and yet she is.

A great man once said that wars are fought for many reasons, so why not love? Isn’t that the greatest cause of all? Or perhaps it just blinds us so absolutely that rational men become wild.

To love is one thing, but the loss of love…well, that will corrupt a man’s soul entirely.