Antonio
I have Aleksandra pinned between her bedroom door and me. It’s like a fierce inferno blazing a thousand degrees, and I’m the only one capable of putting out the fire.
Do I want to put it out?
No, but I’m not about to burn alive, either.
“Get off me,” she snarls at me.
“Do you promise to stop chasing after my gun?” I don’t need her getting ahold of my weapon and using it on me or any of my guards or guests.
She snorts.
I guess that’s a no.
“Promise me that you’ll behave, and I’ll walk you down to see your brother.”
Her blue eyes are dark and intense. Her cheeks are a similar shade to her ruby lips as she expels a soft puff of air. “Fine.”
I’m not sure I believe her, but I take her words at face value. I relinquish my grip on her wrists and take a step back, ensuring my weapon is out of her reach.
“Next time you decide to get feisty, I may have to get the handcuffs,” I threaten.
Her eyes widen, and I can’t tell if she’s excited about the prospect of being restrained or horrified.
I knock promptly on the door. “I’m done,” I say to Mario and wait for him to unlock the door and let me out of the room.
Mario opens the door, and I step out first, escorting Aleksandra to accompany me downstairs. I grab her forcefully by the arm, not letting her far from my grasp.
“Can I see Sophia and Liam?” she asks as I lead her down the hallway to the stairwell.
“After the visit with your brother,” I say. If I give her what she wants now, I’m unlikely to earn her cooperation.
She’s silent, which I can only ascertain is her agreement. We head down to the main floor and wind through the hallway until we reach another locked door. I relinquish my grip from around her arm, retrieve the key from my keyring, and slide it into the door, giving it a forceful shove.
Aleksandra is right behind me. I can feel her presence on my heel. “You first,” I say as I open the door and gesture for her to walk down the basement stairs first.
“Now you’re being chivalrous?”
She steps down the stairs, one at a time. The basement takes a moment, with the dim lighting, for our eyes to fully adjust.
Mikhail is in a nearby prison cell, alone. We didn’t capture any of his men. He was the only one at the safe house. We left after getting everything we wanted out of the men we had interrogated.
Otello guards the prison. He’s situated a few feet from the cell, keeping an eye on the prisoner.
“Give us a few minutes,” I say to Otello.
“Sure thing, boss,” Otello says. He heads up the stairs for a break.
Why had Mikhail been the only man at the safe house? Had his guards fled? Why had they left him behind?
“Mikhail?” her voice cracks as she approaches the prison cell.
He stands on the opposite side, coming forward toward the door. “You’re working with him?” Mikhail’s dark eyes widen as he takes a step backward. He runs a hand through his dark hair. “I trusted you, sister, and you betrayed me.”
I step closer, standing beside Aleksandra.
“Call off your men and the other bratva leaders, Mikhail, to end the tyranny on the Italians.”
His dark eyes shine under the overhead lamplight. “I’d sooner die than help your men,” Mikhail says. He stares at Aleksandra, and his top lip snarls as he glances her up and down. “Traitor.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not working with him,” she says, pointing at me. “I’m a prisoner too.”
“Right.” Mikhail rolls his eyes. “You seem like quite the prisoner. Where is he letting you stay, his bedroom?”
“How dare you!” Aleksandra turns to face me. “Let me in there. I’ll kill him for you.”
While I don’t think she means it, she’s undoubtedly feisty enough to try, but I’m not about to watch her spat with her older brother.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say. She can’t really want me to let her into his cell. It has to be a trick so that she can aid in his escape. I wouldn’t put the idea past her. She’s already tried to steal my gun.
Mikhail takes a step back, and he doesn’t appear the least bit unsettled. He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. “I never expected a Barinov to fuck a Moretti. You’re no longer one of us, little sister.”
“What?” Her voice catches in her throat, and I swear there’s a tear glistening in her eyes. “I’m not—we’re not together,” Aleksandra says.
“You’re just on the other side of the prison cell to convince me to talk?” Mikhail asks with a laugh. “You’re dead to me, Aleksandra. Enjoy playing house with your new family. And if you decide to return to the compound, I can promise you that those little brats won’t see the light of day.”
She turns to run up the stairs, and I consider stopping her, but instead, I let her go.
“Do you enjoy tormenting women and children?” I ask as I approach the prison cell. I don’t open the wrought iron doors. If I did, I might kill him with my bare hands.
Mikhail stretches his arms and interlocks his fingers behind his head. A moment later, his arms drop to the side. “It beats being cooped up in a prison cell. When I get out, Antonio, you can count on me coming after your entire organization.”
“You’ve already come after us. Why do you think you’re locked in our prison?”
“For sport?” Mikhail chuckles and plops down onto the floor. There’s no cot and no bed.
I don’t trust that he wouldn’t hang himself with bedsheets if given the opportunity. And while the idea is tempting, Mikhail dead doesn’t help the situation.
I haven’t heard any indication that they intend to retaliate, but the longer he stays in our prison, the higher chance of the bratva invading our home. And keeping Aleksandra on the premises isn’t going to save us in the slightest.
I leave Mikhail. There are enough mafia dons and interrogators under our roof to handle one man.
I find Aleksandra at the top of the steps, heading up the stairs, the door shut. I don’t say anything, not wanting her brother to overhear us. I open the door and let her step out onto the main floor. I lock the door behind us. Not that Mikhail is capable of escaping, but just in case, it’s an extra level of security.
“Antonio,” Aleksandra’s voice is soft and fragile. Her eyes are crinkled, and she’s holding back her sobs, at least outwardly.
I pull her against the wall, out of earshot of my men, for a bit of privacy.
Otello stands outside the entrance to the prison in the main hall, chatting with Mario. “Catch you later,” Otello says to Mario as he gives me a nod and hurries down to the prison cellar to watch Mikhail.
His job is to make sure nothing happens to the prisoner unless I order. I’ll send Aurielo, one of the mafia’s finest interrogators, whom Alessandro brought with him, and let my interrogator, Jacopo, accompany him.
Between the two men, I anticipate swift results.
“You’re safe here. None of my men will lay a finger on you or your children.” Is that what she’s worried about? I try to quell her nerves, but I worry it’s something I can’t quickly fix.
She rolls her lips together and glances away, her gaze far and distant. “Please, don’t hurt Mikhail. I know he’s a bastard, but he’s my brother.” Her voice cracks as she finally catches my stare. Our gaze locks on each other.
“I assure you that I won’t lay a finger on him.”
I won’t promise that my men won’t torture him to get him to talk.
Her brow is knitted, and her bottom lip trembles.
“You have my word that he will be treated far kindlier than any man the bratva detains,” I say.
“That’s not reassuring,” she whispers. “They’d skin a man alive to get information out of him.”
While we have other methods, I don’t deny that our interrogators can be brutal. “If he answers our interrogators’ questions honestly and divulges information, then he has nothing to worry about.”
“He won’t talk,” Aleksandra says. “He’s too proud to betray the bratva. He’d sooner die.”
I disagree. We’ve had men divulge secrets when held against their will, threatened and tortured. And while he might not care about his own life, he would be devastated if we destroyed the entire bratva organization, his legacy.
“Don’t worry about Mikhail,” I assure her.
I escort her across the hall to my office so that I may have a moment alone with Aurielo and Jacopo. My hand is on the small of her back as I usher her inside, flipping the light on after I open the door.
“Planning on locking me in here?”
“No, I just need to have a moment alone with my men.”
“Can I see my children?” Aleksandra asks.
“I’ll bring them to you. Just wait here.” I gesture for her to stay put while I head to the living room. The twins are seated with the other children. “Sophia, Liam, do you want to see your mom?”
They jump up from the floor and follow me, bouncing in the hallway, down the corridor to my office.
I open the door, ushering them inside and shutting it before I head back down to find a team that can interrogate Mikhail successfully.
While I can do the deed, I don’t want his blood on my hands. Not with Aleksandra under the same roof.
* * *
“She hasn’t tried to leave, sir,” Mario says as I approach the office.
I decided it wasn’t necessary to lock her in physically. The door is shut, and a guard is standing outside the door.
She isn’t going far, and with two noisy kids, she isn’t going to get by without being seen.
“Good,” I say.
“Any news about downstairs?” Mario asks, remarking about the prisoner.
“My men are on it.” I won’t elaborate. There isn’t anything specific to tell until the interrogation is complete, and I’m not sure Mario is a man I’d confide in, either.
While I trust him standing guard in front of a door, he’s not someone I’d divulge our secrets to. At least not yet.
I open the door to my office and stand at the entrance, stunned by the amount of chaos from only a short time.
“I wasn’t sure how long you were planning on keeping me in your office,” Aleksandra says.
“Well, it didn’t take long for you to let your children run through here like two little tornadoes,” I quip.
The kids have gotten into practically everything that wasn’t locked up in the desk. Papers are skewed over the floor; paperclips are tossed freely; pens are stacked like a woodblock tower.
Did Aleksandra permit them to make a mess of my office?
“I prefer to think of them like a hurricane,” Aleksandra says with a sly grin.
“Do you think this is funny?” I glance at my watch. “Fifteen minutes. That’s how long I was gone.”
“I know,” she says with a smirk. “Do you think they did all this? Next time, you won’t keep my children from me.”
She’s giving me a headache. I rub my forehead and glance down at the two children attempting to dismount the pens to make a racetrack for their paperclip vehicles.
I should punish her, but what good would it do? She already has it in her mind that I’ve kidnapped her. And I can’t let her go, not if the kids are mine. I’d never see them again if it were up to her.
“Would you prefer to keep company with your brother downstairs?” I threaten.
The twins have no idea what I’m talking about, but the color drains right out of Aleksandra’s face. “You wouldn’t do that,” she says.
“I don’t do that with guests, but you seem hell-bent on believing that I’m not keeping you as a guest. If the accommodations aren’t to your liking, then I can have you moved downstairs.”
“Please don’t do that,” she rasps. She doesn’t beg, but I’m sure it would come to that if I dragged her down the basement steps.
I gesture for her to step out of the office for a moment. I don’t want Sophia or Liam to overhear our conversation.
She stands from behind the desk and comes around to the door, accompanying me out into the hallway.
“Sir,” Mario says.
“Give us a moment,” I say, and he heads across the hall but close enough that should I need to call him back, he’s ready at a moment’s notice.
“Tell me, where would you go if I let you leave?” Her brother has made it clear that she’s no longer welcome with the bratva.
“Home.”
She’s foolish to think she can return, and there are no consequences. “Your brother may be imprisoned, but the guards we interrogated won’t take kindly to your betrayal.”
“How did I betray them?” she asks.
“You’ve been staying as a guest at my residence. Don’t you think they won’t take kindly to your disloyalty?”
Does she not realize they’ll disavow her as Pakhan’s sister? The bratva isn’t a forgiving group of men.
“Coming here wasn’t my choice,” she says and points at my chest, poking me. “You forced me to come here. You’ve held me against my will.”
“That’s not what your brother believes. As he said, you’re not imprisoned.”
She drops her hands and folds them across her chest. “Doesn’t mean I’m not being held against my will.”
“If you want to go, then leave,” I say. We have her brother. It’s what we wanted and one of the reasons I required her to come with me.
“Fine,” she brushes past me and heads for my office.
I shove my hand against the door, refusing to let her open it. “You can leave, but the children remain under my roof until the DNA tests come back.”
“What? Antonio, no.”
I’m as sure as the sunrise. “They’re my children.”
Her eyes glisten. “Please, don’t do this,” she begs me to let her leave with the twins. “You can’t separate them from their mother.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say. “You are welcome to stay, but the twins aren’t going anywhere until their DNA tests come back.”
“And then what?” she whispers. “What happens if you’re their father?” Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes glassy. She’s at the edge of her breaking point.
“I’ll want custody,” I say. “I can’t very well let them leave. The bratva will be after them. As soon as your brother realizes they’re my children, he’ll use them to hurt me.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” she whispers. “Mikhail wouldn’t hurt the kids. Everything he’s done has been because my son, Liam, was kidnapped by the Italian mafia.”
She can’t believe that everything that’s happened can be forgiven. “And now, the threats he makes?” I ask. “Do you believe they’re empty? That you can return home, and he will let you live with him at his compound?”
She’s silent, and her back is pressed up against the door. “I don’t believe he’ll let us return home.”
Aleksandra isn’t foolish enough to lie to me.
“I’ll have to find someplace new and safe. But he won’t hurt me if I leave you. He does not need to protect me.”
I don’t think it’s as easy for Aleksandra as she makes it out to be. “Mikhail is out for blood and revenge. The minute he discovers the twins are mine, it’s leverage for him to hurt me. He doesn’t care who gets in the way of his dirty plans.”
There’s an internal struggle, like a fog that settles over her eyes as she squints and struggles with the right choice and what to do.
“Please, you can’t keep me locked up here.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it if you can keep yourself in line,” I warn her. “I won’t be made a mockery of in front of my guests. Is that understood?”
Her gaze falls to my lips, staring at them for a long moment. “Yes,” she whispers, glancing up into my eyes. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“Good.” I take a step back, letting her retreat into my office.
She opens the door, and the kids are doodling on my desk with the permanent marker that they found.
Wonderful.
“How about you three clean up this mess, and then you can join everyone in the living room?”
I leave the door open and gesture Mario over.
“Keep an eye on them. They need to clean up the office, and when they’re finished, they can join the other guests,” I say.
Mario peers into the office, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him. “Yes, sir.”
* * *
I’ve made a promise to Aleksandra that I wouldn’t personally harm Mikhail. But my interrogators will do what is asked of me, and I expect to have information that we can use against the bratva.
With Aleksandra and the twins in my office, I hurry across the hall and back down the locked stairwell to the prison.
Otello leans against the concrete wall facing the prison cell with Mikhail inside.
Mikhail’s hands are bound behind him, and he’s seated on a wooden chair.
Across from him, Jacopo and Aurielo have laid out several instruments for torture on a nearby folding table that they’ve brought into the prison cell.
Jacopo holds a blow torch, fire blazing as he threatens Mikhail. The bratva leader’s face is bloodied, his eye blackened. Numerous bruises are covering his skin, and they’ve only just begun.
“You can end this, Mikhail,” I say as I approach the prison cell.
Otello unlocks the gate, letting me inside.
“All we need is your cooperation to end this war.”
“A war that you started,” Mikhail says with a snarl. “This is your fault, Antonio! You stole my nephew.”
“Roberto ordered the abduction of your nephew, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s not calling the shots anymore. He’s dead.”
“Does my sister know that you’re a cold-blooded killer?” Mikhail smirks, and there’s a smear of blood on his teeth from his gashed lip.
“I don’t think she cares, considering it runs in your family. Tell us how to stop the attacks on the other mafia families. If you want a war, you have it with me. Leave the children out of it.”
Mikhail’s eyes are icy. “We intend to slaughter your sons and daughters. Every one of them. And if I don’t report to my men within the hour, the bloodshed will escalate.”