One of my eyes floats closed, and I steady my hand. It’s stretched straight out, my arm stiff as a corpse. My heart thrums, as it always does whenever I line up for a shot. The target taunts me from twenty feet away, waiting to see if I have what it takes.

I do. I haven’t missed in weeks.

I pull the trigger, my body jolts from the force of the bullet exploding from the gun barrel. My lips curl upward as the bullet tears through the cardboard head, leaving the target dangling listlessly on its cord.

Katarina says I’m a natural.

I say I’m just pissed off.

The satisfying scent of burnt gunpowder fills my lungs. Under other circumstances, it’d probably make me hurl, but on days like this, when I know I’m coming closer to the time when these shots will be directed to actual live humans instead of cardboard cutouts, it empowers me.

I never thought I’d be standing in a shooting range, speckled with gunpower from my own gun, as the protégé of a Russian mob boss’s daughter.

Nico was serious about me learning how to protect myself. But I’m sure that when he introduced me to Katarina Ivanov, Viktor’s daughter, he had other ideas. Like kung fu. Or jujitsu. Maybe knife play.

But screw that. Martial arts are all fine and good, but while they may get me out of a chokehold, they won’t do much by the way of stopping a predator. Permanently.

And Katarina…she’s as alpha as they come. And since she looks like a Victoria’s Secret model, they’ll never see her coming. And that’s just the way she likes it. That’s what she’s taught me.

With each passing day and each mutilated target, I can see my training hard at work. Katarina critiques every single move, every stance, every position until it’s perfect.

“They’ll never expect it from you, Pinky.” Katarina smirks. “When you get your shot, it’s going to be beautiful. You’ll blow their minds and then blow off their heads.”

“No pun intended?” I snicker. She’s called me Pinky since that first night. It’s because the ends of my blonde hair are dyed a vibrant fuchsia color. Whatever. The nickname reminds me that there’s a sense of humor buried deep inside of this assassin in training.

That’s exactly the kind of instructor I need. Nico would never have been able to detach himself from the situation to give me this kind of training. Hell, he has no idea I’ve spent so many hours at this gun club over the past months, especially since I haven’t worn my watch here. I don’t wear any jewelry at all.

And he’d flip if he knew I carried a handgun in my purse.

A roundhouse kick to the head will only buy me a sliver of time. These motherfuckers carry weapons, badass guns, and I refuse to be the victim again. I can still feel the duct tape tearing at my skin, the dank smell of the abandoned warehouse where, if things had gone differently, I would have been killed at the hand of Frank Cappodamo. Brutalized first, raped most definitely…he was a sick bastard who hunted me in an attempt to bait Nico. And while we left that warehouse pretty much unscathed, there was plenty of emotional damage done.

A shiver runs through me. Never again. I refuse to be in that position ever again. I know I’m a target. I’ve worn that bullseye since birth, for Christ’s sake. And I’m tired of waiting for someone else to save me.

This time, I’ll be prepared. This time, I’ll do the saving.

I place the gun down and stretch my arms overhead. “Another satisfying session.”

Katarina smirks. “Stress begone.”

“Completely.” I pull out the hair band and let the blonde waves fall loose around my shoulders. “But damn, I’m starving. Plugging a cardboard cutout really makes me hungry. Lunch?”

Kat nods. “After we shower. I don’t think you want to stink of gunpowder when Nico ravages you later.”

“Yeah.” I stuff my things into a duffel bag. “That hasn’t really been a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t really seen him too much lately.” I avert my eyes, zip it, and hoist it over my shoulder. “He’s been working late at the club, so I’ve been staying at my parents’ house.”

“Except for last night.”

“Yes.” A shiver runs through me. The delicious memories from the most passionate night we’ve had in…shit, I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since we’ve made love like that. All I know is we need to get back to the place where it was a nightly occurrence, not just something that happens when I surprise him at the club incognito or when someone gets killed.

Kat narrows her eyes and sticks her hands on her hips. “You mean to tell me he chooses not to fuck you? To work late instead?”

“It’s not that simple.” I squirm under her piercing, blue-eyed stare. “He’s been really busy…and preoccupied…”

“With some other pussy?”

My mouth falls open. I love Kat, but she’s cruder than most guys I know. “No! Just with…things.”

“Well, if he’s not fucking you and he’s not fucking someone else, then what is keeping him away?”

I shrug. “He doesn’t really talk about it. I know he’s going through a hard time, trying to keep his guys in line, watching over his shoulder for that lunatic…I guess he’s stressed, too.”

“Shaye, he’s next in line to take over the family business. He has to be prepared to become the boss at any time. That means he needs to have his shit together. He can’t be some fucking pansy ass burying himself in work when he needs to be swinging his dick around.” She walks closer to me, her eyes narrowed. “There’s no room for stress in this life. It’ll fucking cripple you. And then it’ll kill you.”

Stress clouds your judgement. It’s a distraction, a potentially lethal one. Nico is wound like a top these days, and last night was the first time I’ve seen him somewhat back to normal. He was always so calm and controlled. But he lost his shit at the club, went after that guy for trying to talk to him...it’s like his emotions are blasting out of control.

Not that Kat needs to know any more than what I’ve already told her. I’ve probably said too much, and since her father is one of Nico’s business partners, I really don’t need to give her any more personal insight.

We walk into the ladies’ locker room at the gun club and strip out of our clothes. I stuff mine into a plastic bag so I can bring them straight to the dry cleaner.

What my family doesn’t know won’t hurt them.

It might kill me, but that’s another story.

Half an hour later, we’re showered and on our way to Villa Laura, my favorite pizzeria. I’m dying for a pepperoni calzone.

Kat drives us in her car since she picked me up for our weekly gun date. I can’t let my car be seen at the club. It’s also why I go under a fake name. Nobody needs to know my plan.

Until I want them to know.

She pulls her Range Rover Volar into the parking lot and we go inside. I inhale deeply…the scent of pizza infiltrating my senses. My mouth waters as I stare at the fresh pies being slid out of the giant pizza ovens and onto their own display trays.

Okay, maybe a calzone plus a couple of slices…

Kat wrinkles her nose. “Can I get a salad here?”

My eyes pop wide open and I twist to face her. “A salad? Are you insane? This is the best pizza on the planet!”

“I don’t really care for Italian food. Or any food, really. You know my diet mainly consists of vodka anyway.”

I snicker. “Whatever you’re doing works.”

She flips her long, dark hair over her shoulder, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the guy behind the counter literally drool a little bit. I swallow a giggle, but this is the kind of reaction she generates pretty much anywhere we go. She’s about five inches taller than me, with lean, toned legs that go on for days. Her arms are sculpted, her waist tiny. But her presence? It’s huge. And menacing when she wants it to be. You’ll never see her coming…not until she wants you to.

And that’s an advantage she’s taught me. While they’re busy eyeing you and trying to figure out how best to fuck you, that’s when you lash out and slit their throats.

We order our food and walk into the dining area to pick out a table. She always opts for one close to an exit because you just never know.

“That last place you want to be stuck in is a corner. Like a rat.” She winks at me and flops in the chair closest to the back exit.

I tap my fingernails on the ceramic table top. Katarina has never been particularly open with me about her life, her past, or her family. But with my whole existence in upheaval, I feel like I need to find a kindred spirit…someone who’s gone through this before, someone I can relate to on some level. Our relationship to date has been very superficial. We train, and then we say goodbye. She’s not my friend, even though I sense she might need one. I tap faster. She may shut down, or maybe my instincts will be right and she’ll want to open up to someone. I raise my gaze to meet her curious one. “So, tell me, how did you learn to shoot like a sniper?”

A faraway smile lifts Katarina’s glossy pink lips. “My mother taught me. I was young, younger than she wanted me to be when she started training me, but things were very dangerous for us back then. My father was working hard to rise up in the organization, and people above him didn’t like that.” Her shoulders sag and she toys with a straw wrapper. “She decided it was time for me to learn how to defend myself. So I did. I was her best student.”

“Wow.” My eyes widen. “I can’t imagine my mother even holding a gun, much less teaching me how to fire one.”

Kat runs her fingers through her hair. “You learn what you live. When death stares you in the face enough, you have to take matters into your own hands.”

“She must be really proud of the badass you’ve become, huh?” I take a sip of my Diet Coke.

Kat looks away. “Yeah, well, she’s dead so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I’m so sorry, Kat.” I reach out to pat her arm and she stares at my hand for a long second before pushing back her chair and standing. “I’ll be right back.”

Dammit, I had no idea…I feel like a complete ass right now. Me and my stupid psychoanalysis. I should just learn to keep my big mouth shut. Although…maybe my instinct was right after all. She did tell me something personal about herself, something that was probably painful to share. But she did it anyway.

Maybe the Ice Queen is prone to thawing if she so chooses.

I’ll take that as a positive sign. I need her on my side.

My stomach growls, and I let out a groan. I’m so hungry, my arm is looking pretty damn good right about now. I’m very close to gnawing it off. How much longer is it going to take for—?

“Hey! Where the hell were you this morning? I came by at ten, and Max said you’d already taken off. What the fuck, Shaye?”

I gasp and twist around in my chair. “Rocco! You scared the hell out of me!”

He lowers himself down to my seated level and points to me, his eyes menacing. “Do you know what Nico will do to me if anything happens to you on my watch? What happened to Carlo will be me times a thousand!”

“Keep your voice down!” I whisper-shout. “I’m not a baby. I told Nico that last night. And again this morning. I appreciate your concern, but trust me. I’m good.”

Rocco’s finger comes closer to my face. “Take it up again with your boyfriend. In the meantime, don’t fuck around with—ahh!”

Katarina rushes toward Rocco, stealth like a fucking ninja if I ever saw one. Within a split second, she’s looped an arm through his and has her other arm tight under his neck in a chokehold. His eyes pop wide open and he struggles to get a glimpse of his assailant. But she’s good…damn good. He struggles for breath, and I jump up from my chair. “Kat, it’s okay. You can let him go. He’s a friend of mine.”

She tightens her grip. “He doesn’t sound so friendly.”

Rocco sputters, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. “I c-can’t b-b-breathe,” he rasps.

“Seriously, Kat. I don’t think he’ll ever do that again.” I smirk at Rocco. “Right? Buddy?”

He nods, pulling at Kat’s arms. “Y-y-yes!”

Kat releases him and he drops to his knees, clutching his neck and gasping for air. “Fucking sick bastard. Who the hell do you think—?” His eyes are pure venom at this point and he leaps to his feet, spinning around to face his attacker…the attacker who looks more like a runway model than a trained assassin. To say the look on Rocco’s face is priceless really is the understatement of the century.

Katarina lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I don’t wait for danger to become a reality. I believe in exterminating it before that happens. And even though you don’t look like you pose too much of a threat…” A tiny smile curls her lips upward. “I don’t like to take unnecessary chances.”

Rocco’s mouth falls open. I’ve never actually seen him struck speechless. It’s quite comical. I’m enjoying my vantage point, happy to know there’s somebody who has my back and can do pretty severe damage as she so clearly demonstrated.

This is just too good all around.

He rises to his full height, puffing out his chest though he’s still struggling for air. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I’d appreciate it if next time you mind your own fucking business when I’m talking to my friend.”

I put a hand to his chest. “Okay, relax, Rocco. She was just looking out for me. Exactly what you’re trying to do. We’re all on the same team here.”

He rubs his neck, glowering at Katarina. But I can tell he would much prefer to rake his eyes over her body. The wheels start to turn. Maybe that time will come…

Kat flashes a toothy grin and sidles back to her chair. “That’s right. We’re all on the same team, buddy.”

He clears his throat. “It’s Rocco, not that I give a fuck whether or not you know my name.”

Yep, that’s a bunch of bullshit.

“Rocco,” she repeats, her grin widening. “Rocco Lucchese, yes?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes in my direction. I shrug. I may have mentioned him once or twice. Or a dozen times.

He needs a girl, and Kat is his perfect match.

Not that he looks convinced of that.

“Rocco, this is Katarina Ivanov.” I let the name sink in and wait for his reaction. It doesn’t disappoint.

“Viktor’s daughter?”

She nods. “The one and only.”

His lips stretch into a straight line. “He’s a good guy, your dad. Saved my ass once.” He adjusts his jacket and looks at me. “Next time, just text me if you’re not gonna be home.”

I nod. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Nah, I’ve got to get back to the club right now. But, um, maybe another time.” His tone, normally so gruff and grim, sounds hopeful. His eyes flicker back toward Kat, whose appraising stare tells me she’s as curious as he is. Perfect. How gifted am I at this matchmaking crap?

If I could only figure out the little kinks between Max and Sloane, my best friend, I would consider myself the setup whisperer. But their dynamic is a little more challenging, especially since neither one of them will let me in on what the hell happened between them all those months ago that keeps them drooling over each other from a distance.

Kat says nothing, but continues to stare him down. For a second, I almost feel like walking away since I am so clearly intruding on their silent and lustful exchange.

Rocco finally tears his eyes away from Katarina. “I’ll give you a call later, okay?”

“Yes.” I smile. “Now get to work.”

“Bye, Rocco,” Kat sing-songs, straining her chest against the tight shirt stretched against her skin. The action doesn’t go unnoticed, either. Rocco grins at Kat and winks at her before turning and sauntering toward the exit.

I let out the snicker that’s been building in my throat. “Oh my God, that was awesome. I’ve never seen him cut down like that.”

Kat smirks. “I figured you’d like that.”

“But you must have known he wasn’t a threat.”

“Maybe. But it was fun anyway. I needed to get my fix. Sometimes a good chokehold does the trick and brightens my mood.”

I gasp as the steaming hot slices of pizza are set down in front of me along with my calzone. “Thank God! Can you guess what has just brightened my mood?”

“Where did you find her?” My blood pressure has to be through the roof right now. Why is Shaye purposely trying to evade Rocco? Does she want to end up like fucking Carlo? I slam my hand on the steering wheel, glaring at the red light hanging over the intersection. I shouldn’t have told her about the watch. I know she didn’t wear it on purpose to prove a point.

There’s a lot of static on the line, and Rocco’s voice is fading out. I swallow hard. This isn’t a game. I’m trying to keep her safe by keeping one of my best guys with her.

“Katarina Ivanov.”

That’s a step in the right direction. At least I heard that.

“She was with Kat?”

“…lunch…pizza…bitch…chokehold…”

I furrow my brow and turn into the parking lot outside of my dad’s office building as I piece together his words. “Fuck! Did someone come after her? Did you need to take someone out? Rocco, what the fuck happened? I can’t hear you for shit right now! Where is Shaye? Is she okay?”

Suddenly the line clears and the static fades away. “Dude, relax, it’s fine. That chick she was with put me in a chokehold, okay? She swoops in from outta nowhere and attacks me. Fucking crazy bitch.”

Despite the panic that set in seconds before, I let out a chuckle, thinking about Kat subduing Rocco, big, bad Rocco who is probably twice her size in mass and muscle. “What did you do to make her think you were a threat?”

“Do you really think she needed an excuse?”

“Knowing Kat, probably not.”

Rocco lets out an exasperated sigh. “Look, maybe I got in Shaye’s face a little, but it was only because I was pissed off that she left without telling me. I’m doing this little babysitting gig as a favor to you, but your girl doesn’t seem to want anything to do with it. I can’t watch her if she disappears.” He snorts. “Besides, I don’t think she needs me when she has her own private bodyguard.”

I collapse back against the leather bucket seat and let out a deep breath. “Yeah, Kat can be pretty brutal.”

“Thanks for letting me know Shaye was hanging out with fucking Nikita.”

“I would have loved to be a fly on the wall.”

“Fuck off. I’m going back to work.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later at the club.” I click off the phone and push open my car door. The stress knots are back in force, and my neck is stiffer than a fucking week-old corpse right now. Something tells me shit’s about to get worse. I sidestep Tony Oriani’s sleek black Jaguar and let out a groan. Why the hell did Dad need to call that douchebag? I wanted to have a private conversation with my father first, before Tony hears the story and goes off the deep end, which is his typical reaction to most situations, the one that put us all in this position in the first place.

Motherfucker.

I stab the Up button next to the elevator after checking in with security. The building looks like a normal place of business, but what visitors can’t see are the automatic weapons stored behind the polished wood reception desk or the concealed weapons on the bodies of the ex-military security guards. Nobody knows that with a simple push of a button, this whole place gets locked down like a maximum security prison and if somebody is trying to pull a job on the inside, rest assured that person won’t ever make it out.

The elevator creeps up to the fifth floor where my dad’s office is tucked away into a corner. I step out of the elevator once the doors open and walk through the expansive reception area. It’s empty, thankfully. I don’t really feel like dealing with—

“Nico…” A low, female voice purrs into my ear. “I haven’t seen you here in a long time. Something keeping you away?”

I twist around to find Janelle, one of the accountants here at the firm. Her bright red lips are twisted into a pout, her shirt unbuttoned about three too many. She flips her long wavy hair and sticks a hand on her hip. “You don’t call anymore.” She leans closer, eyes narrowed. “Did you get tired of me, Nico? Did you get tired of fucking me?” She taps a finger against her mouth and pretends to think about her own question. “I let you do anything to me that you wanted. I tried to make you so happy, and you just disappeared. Why?” Her voice has taken on a pretty damn menacing tone, and I berate myself again for ever getting involved with this crazy bitch. Christ, over the years I’d let my dick make way too many decisions for me…fucking bad decisions. Thank God those days are over.

I grasp Janelle’s shoulders to hold her in place. She’s getting too close, and I don’t need my father, or worse, Tony, to see the whole scorned lover scene playing out here. I glance around the room. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if this woman had a camera set up somewhere, capturing the whole sordid episode.

“Look, I’m sorry. It was never a good idea for us to get involved. You work for my dad. It was fun, but it’s over.”

I feel like I say the same thing to her every time I show up here, vocalizing it over and over again after she manages to corner me. I wish she’d just quit.

Her lips stretch into a straight line. “You’re a fucking womanizing asshole!”

“Look,” I hiss. “I never made you any promises. It’s done, okay? Just move the fuck on.” I really hate being such an asshole, but every time she sees me, it’s like she forgets we’ve already had this conversation a thousand times before. It gets old, but no matter how I put it, she’ll no doubt air her grievances again the next time I show up here.

I have to start meeting my dad for lunch instead. Fuck this office visit shit.

Her nostrils flare, and without another word, she spins around and stomps down a hallway. I let out the breath I’d been holding. Fucking Stage 5 clinger. I know I’m good, but still…this is a little extreme.

Christ, I have made some shitty decisions in the past.

I straighten my shirt and walk in the opposite direction as Janelle since my dad’s office is clear across the room. Thank fuck.

The door is closed, so I twist the handle and pull it open. Six pairs of eyes hit me at the exact same time, and they are full of questions. And accusations, judging from Tony’s death stare.

“Why didn’t you go after that motherfucker and stuff the barrel of a gun down his throat?” Tony jumps up from his chair and closes the space between us. I don’t back away. I stand by my decision. Besides, no one besides Shaye knows about that note. It’s in my pocket, and I guess that’s where it’ll stay since present company is already all over my ass to make a move.

“Tony, relax,” my dad says, rising from his position behind the desk.

“Don’t tell me to relax, Joe! My daughter is at risk now.” Tony turns to me and points a finger between my eyes. “You put her in the line of fire, Nico. You were the reason why she got snatched the first time, and now she’s a target again.”

“You don’t think she’s always been a target, Tony? Because of the stupid ass decisions you’ve made?” I lean toward him, refusing to back away. “You’ve put her in worse situations because of your fucked-up priorities. Or are we just brushing them under the rug right now because you think you found a new scapegoat?”

“Dad, calm down.” Max lets out a deep sigh and rolls his eyes at me. “Shaye is fine. From what Rocco told me, she’s got her own personal bodyguard tailing her right now.”

“You took unnecessary chances, Nico.” Tony growls through clenched teeth. “What’s your big plan this time? Sit on your ass and wait for someone else to be fucking mauled on your watch?” He turns to my father, eyes blazing. “Grandpa Vito would never have let this go without taking swift action. But you have Mr. CEO here, who finally found an organization he has no idea how to run. This isn’t a sex club, Nico. This is our fucking livelihood. If you don’t do something to show strength, the other families will stop doing business with us. And you think the Russians will have your back? Fuck that! Nobody wants to be part of a sinking ship, Nico. Nobody!”

Dad gets up and walks over to the large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking a lush green park down below. It’s ironic how tranquil this area is, how peaceful and quiet our surroundings are, especially when there is so much toxicity within these walls. Somehow, though, it never leaks to the outside.

At least, it hasn’t just yet.

“Tony, I trust Nico’s judgment on this. He knows what he’s doing, and I respect his decision.”

“That’s fucking insane! An eye for an eye! Why the fuck aren’t we on the move to take that asshole down?”

“Because he has a whole army on his side!” I shout, the panic bubbling in my chest. I struggle to keep my voice even, but it’s damn hard. I know what this motherfucker is capable of, and if I go after him, guns blazing, I’d better be sure I have the backing to deal with the fallout. I need to make sure Viktor Ivanov has my back. That’s why I initiated the whole deal with that fucking horse farm, to solidify a partnership with him. Viktor’s got a shit ton of drug money that needs to be laundered, and the farm is a perfectly legitimate front for it. I’m giving Viktor more reasons to stick with the Salesi family. More ways to make money, to clean said money. The other families fear Luca because his father made sure he had his claws embedded into all of their drug dealings. His influence runs fucking deep. The Russians are our allies. They’ve proven it once before. I just need to make sure they’ll be there for us again before I take action.

That’s why I haven’t gone after Luca. I’m fucking scared for my crew. Scared for Shaye, for my family. I trust so few that I don’t have the confidence we’ll be able to withstand a full-blown war. And that’s exactly what this will become. Money can buy a lot, but fear buys much more.

And right now, Luca can afford way more than we can.

I clench my fists, struggling to keep my voice even. “Look, Tony. I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you do…that either of you do. You think your grandfather would be deep in this shit right now? He’d have already taken care of this threat to his family, and there are plenty of people who’d have had his back, who would have followed his command without a second thought. Because he was that strong. He was a fucking leader!”

“Dad, relax and let them do—”

“Don’t tell me to relax, Maximo!” Tony shouts at Max. “There’s a lot at stake here, and we’re facing a war none of us has the confidence to fight, much less win. So, how does it feel, Joe? To be the captain of a sinking ship…a ship that was once king of the fucking fleet!”

The mention of Grandpa makes my gut clench. And what Tony said is true. Grandpa was revered. There was no shortage of people who would do anything for him. He did a lot of favors, and he made a lot of friends in the process.

Dad and I don’t have that luxury. Our favors come in the form of hard-earned money, and people are more confident about the leaders who grant favors in the form of protection. It gives them hope. It empowers them. They may never be rich, but they know they will be safe.

Tony is an example of someone who wants both, and he sees my dad and me as two obstacles holding him back from attaining either.

Fuck him. Fuck them all.

I inch closer to Tony, to my girlfriend’s hulking, sneering father, and narrow my eyes. “If you want any part of this family, you’d better remember who you’re talking to. Don’t fucking challenge me again. We are handling this, and you? You’re fucking lucky to be here in the first place after the shit you pulled. Let’s not forget that we’re here because of you, Tony. You fucked all of us, so consider yourself lucky to be standing in this room, in my presence.”

“Don’t you fucking—”

“I’m not finished!” I bellow. “You have a job. You’re running a construction site for a new strip mall. I suggest you do your fucking job and stay the hell out of mine, or else you might find yourself in a very different position very soon. You get me, Tony? Because I’m done dealing with your bullshit.”

“I want you to stay the fuck away from Shaye,” he growls, glaring at me so hard I’m convinced he’s trying to smoke me from the inside out. “I don’t trust you or your plans, and I don’t want my daughter caught in the middle again.”

“She’s a big girl. It’s her choice, not yours.” I fold my arms. “Besides, you didn’t seem to give a shit about her getting caught in the middle when you were playing both sides of the fence with Cappodamo. Let’s be honest. You want her as leverage.” I shrug. “She’s not a pawn in your fucking game, to strategically move at your whim. And trust me, there is no amount of leverage that will help you, Tony.”

Max springs up from his chair. “Dad, let’s get to the construction site. We need to meet with the contractors in half an hour.”

Tony doesn’t move a muscle. He just stares me down, his eyes dark and menacing. Kind of like his soul. If there was anything behind that anger, he’d be a force to be reckoned with. But he’s a fucking pussy. He talks about strength, which is ironic because he’s got none. He’s just a manipulative fuck who talks out of both sides of his mouth, and I’m done with this asshole.

All that talking he does just makes him dangerous and . Not strong.

I peel my glare off of Tony’s face and focus it on Max. My best friend who allowed me to ambushed by his dickhead father. Is there anyone out there who can fucking be trusted?

He averts his eyes and pushes past Tony to open the door. “Dad, we’re gonna be late. Let’s go.”

But Tony isn’t one to follow orders. He’s going to leave when he damn well pleases, not when someone else recommends that he gets the fuck out of this office. Everything has to be on his terms. He turns back to my father. “Joe, let’s talk later about the building schedule. I’ll bring over the plans so that we can review them.”

His glacial stare returns to me. I’m sure he’s disappointed that I don’t immediately fall into a deep freeze, but he has my blood boiling to the point where I could combust any second.

He leaves the office without another word, slamming the door so hard, the walls shake.

Cocksucker.

I fold my arms and turn toward my father. “Was that really necessary? Did you need to bring him in here? I wanted to talk to you in private. I thought I made that clear when I called you.”

“Nico, you know how he is. Max told him what happened, and he wanted to know how you’re going to respond. I can’t blame him. He’s worried about his daughter.” Dad runs a hand through his hair.

I let out a snort. “He’s not fucking concerned about Shaye. He just wants inside knowledge so he can figure out how to exploit it for cash. Besides, you know I can’t give him the information he wants. I told you what needs to be done, and you agreed with me earlier. What the hell changed your mind?”

“Nico, you’re putting all your eggs in one vodka-soaked basket. Are you sure this is the right path? Because once you get the ball rolling, there’s no turning back. You need to make sure Viktor has your back.”

“Why are you doubting me all of a sudden?” My spine stiffens. “I know what I’m doing. Shaye is taken care of. Nobody suspects anything.”

“And you really think that hooking her up with Katarina is going to cement your relationship with Viktor?”

I slam a hand down on the desk. “We’ve been over this. I couldn’t train her myself. I’m too involved, and I won’t be able to detach myself to teach her what she needs to know. I needed someone else to handle it for me, someone she could trust. Kat’s a perfect shot, and it was Viktor’s idea to get them together in the first place. If anyone can teach Shaye how to blow off someone’s head without so much as a blink, it’s Kat.” I sink into a chair in front of the desk. “Dad, I hate like hell that this is happening. I hate that I can’t have her with me all the time, that I spend most of my time worrying about her. And I fucking hate not knowing what’s coming next, knowing that I can’t plan my way out of it.”

“Nobody ever said this would be easy. Things have gone to shit since Grandpa died and there’s a lot of rumbling within the ranks. Taking out Frank Cappodamo was a good short-term move, but the long-term effects can crush us if we don’t have the right backing. Does Viktor know about your history with Luca? The real reason for his vendetta against you?”

“No.” I crack my knuckles one at a time. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past.”

“It might matter to Viktor.”

“Why?

“This is about trust building, Nico. If you want to keep Viktor as an ally, you have to offer him more than just money. Anyone can line his pockets. Don’t let him get blindsided, even if you think it won’t matter to him.” Dad looks at me and reclines in his chair. “We’re very vulnerable right now. I know you don’t like to hear that, but it’s true. We need a strong alliance with the Russians to be taken seriously. That will give us controlling interest of the top money-making businesses in the tri-state area. That loyalty won’t come cheap, but it will keep us at the top of the food chain. The Russians don’t need us, Nico. Don’t kid yourself. They can align themselves with any of the other families unless we offer them something that nobody else can. Give them a reason to stick with us. We need them if we’re going to survive this fallout.”