by Katee Robert
He was in deep shit regardless.
Between one punch and the next…the blows stopped. He slowly lowered his arms to see Rose standing behind Casimir, looking like an avenging angel with her dark hair whipping around her face and a gun in her hands. Where the fuck had she found that?
She snarled something in Russian, and Casimir responded in kind. Through it all, his expression never changed from the vaguely bored one he’d worn since Dante first saw him. Another man stepped up next to Rose, a gun held down by his side. He, Dante recognized from his files on Rose’s legion of family members. Grady MacNamara. Her cousin by way of her mother’s sister, Sloan.
Casimir rose slowly and stepped off Dante. He glanced down, eyes holding no emotion whatsoever, before turning his attention back to Rose. “A delay. This changes nothing.”
“Mozhet byt, mozhet I net.” She shrugged. “You won’t be around to worry about it either way.”
“Rose.” Grady’s deep voice cut through the tension. “You can’t shoot him.”
“He’s a threat.”
“We are in the middle of a public parking lot with no fewer than three cameras catching at least part of this. You shoot him, things get messy.”
Her finger hovered on the trigger, and Casimir tensed, the tiniest reaction. Finally, she cursed and took a step back. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
Dante held his breath as the Russian considered her, him, and then Grady. Finally, he shrugged. “Now or later. Makes no difference to me. This only ends one way.” He turned and walked away without another word.
Dante started to get up, but Rose turned the gun on him. “Nyet. Stay where you are.”
The betrayal seared through him with more violence than the actual bullets she shot him with three months ago. She’d told him over and over again that she wanted him dead. Of course, the last four days wouldn’t change anything, not for her.
But she didn’t shoot him.
She passed the gun to her cousin and took the zip tie he produced from somewhere. Grady kept his gun carefully pointed near Dante’s head as Rose knelt next to him. She grabbed his hands and fastened the zip tie around them in a practiced move.
“Rosa—”
She leaned down, nearly close enough to kiss. “This is your get-out-of-jail-free card, Dante. Stay in California. Find someone else to fuck around with. Get married and have those babies you want so desperately. If you come after me again, I will kill you.” She lowered her voice. “I won’t have a choice.”
He might laugh if he weren’t so fucking frustrated. “You’re it for me, amata. There’s no one else.”
“Find someone else,” she repeated. She rose to her feet, only slightly unsteady. “If you’re smart, you’ll find your way out of the zip tie before the Mad Wolf circles back. Goodbye, Dante.” She turned and walked away.
Grady glanced at her retreating back and then crouched next to Dante. “You have five families between Boston and New York howling for your blood because of that stunt you pulled with Dmitri and Keira’s little princess. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to my cousin.” He pushed back to his feet. “If you step foot in New York or Boston, you’re dead.”
He was turned away and strode to Rose, tossing an arm around her shoulder as he guided her to the sedan he’d arrived in. Within seconds, they were gone.
Dante took a slow inhale and then jerked his wrists apart, snapping the zip tie. He climbed to his feet, head spinning a little, stopped to dig his gun out from beneath the car it’d landed under, and made his way back to his SUV. Casimir Romanov was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well.
As he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street, a single cop car careened into the parking lot, lights flashing. Typical. Too little, too late. He kept himself chained to the speed limit as he headed south, leaving the town behind. After fifteen minutes, when no one pursued, he dialed Matteo.
“Si?”
“I’m headed back, but I’m not staying long.”
His cousin snorted. “So, things either just blew up in your face, or you’re bringing back a bride. Cute.”
“Something like that.” He touched his jacket. The Plan B box was still there. Fuck. In the chaos, he hadn’t thought to hand it over. Not that Rose would have taken it while she was zip tying his fucking wrists together. Despite himself, he smiled a little. Three months ago, she would have shot him in the parking lot and to hell with the consequences. The fact that she didn’t, the fact she warned him away from New York?
Yes, his woman had feelings for him.
She should know better than to wave a red flag in front of a bull while telling it not to charge. Likely, she meant every word, but Dante had never been closer to what he wanted. He wouldn’t be deterred now.
“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Matteo sighed. “Lorenzo wants to see you. Now. I’ve put him off as long as I can, but he’s one step away from calling for your head. You better get back here.”
He didn’t want to, but if his uncle was working himself into a state over this, it would mean more trouble on the back end. Better to deal with it now. He sighed and checked the navigation. “I’ll be back in eight hours or so. He’ll have to wait until then.”
“Fine. Your funeral.” Matteo paused. “You going to have her with you?”
“No.”
“She alive?”
“Si. We’ve gone our separate ways. Temporarily.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Dante picked up speed. “Have the jet fueled and ready for me. I won’t be staying long once I deal with Lorenzo.”
Matteo sighed again. “You can’t keep going after this chick, cugino. She shot you, and now she took off the first chance she got. Take a fucking hint.”
If you come after me again, I will kill you. I won’t have a choice.
The first time she’d threatened him where it sounded actually reluctant. If that wasn’t progress, Dante didn’t know what else to call it. He could work with progress. “Mind your own business.”
“You are my business, asshole. If you get yourself killed by one of the Romanovs or Capparellis or… Jesus, the list just goes on, doesn’t it? That woman has connections with families across the eastern seaboard. You keep fucking with her, you’re going to get all of us killed.”
“You didn’t say shit when he sent me over there to scope her out, and you sure as fuck didn’t say anything when I told you my plan.”
Matteo cursed. “Yeah, motherfucker, because my father ultimately makes the calls right now and because you were obsessed as soon as you met her. I figured you’d get her out of your system and move on. I didn’t think you’d decide to marry the bitch.”
“Call her a bitch again and you’ll regret it.”
His cousin huffed out a breath. “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t get your head turned. Not by anyone. What the fuck is going on with you, Dante?”
“She’s mine.”
The silence stretched out between them for nearly a minute before Matteo finally found his words again. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
“No.” He and Rose were inevitable. She knew that in her heart, or she wouldn’t have let him live this time. She was just too tied up in her family shit to see things clearly. She let her head overrule what her heart wanted, and while he could respect that she stuck to her guns, there was no fucking way he’d let her marry that bastard Romeo Capparelli. “She’s mine,” he repeated. “And as soon as I deal with your father, I’m going to go get her.”
Chapter 17
The flight back to New York was aggravating as fuck.
Rose’s head pounded from where Casimir had slammed her into the ground. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed live coals. And her ankle ached just enough to be truly irritating.
Most of all, her cousin and uncle refused to answer a single one of her questions.
Uncle Jude had made sure she was okay as soon as t
hey got on the plane, but the second he realized she wouldn’t stop pestering them, he’d muttered something under his breath about stubborn women, pulled out his laptop, and for all intents and purposes seemed to be ignoring them despite his lack of headphones.
“Grady, just tell me what happened. You were at the wedding.”
Grady crossed his arms over his broad chest. He was even bigger than his dad, which was saying something. They had the same dark hair and dark eyes, though Grady was just built solid. Uncle Jude was no slouch, even now that he was in his sixties, but Grady looked like he could just plow through a concrete wall without missing a step. He also had Uncle Jude’s glare down to a science. “We were hired to find you. We don’t have anything to do with the rest of it.”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. “Yes, yes, I’m aware you aren’t actually connected with the less-than-legal activities. God forbid you dirty your pristine hands the way the rest of your family has.” Back in the day, Jude and Sloan had lived outside of Boston for several years before they moved back to the city, and even then it was with the understanding that they would not be included in any of the O’Malley businesses, either legit or in the shadows. She respected their choice, but Grady’s holier-than-thou attitude never failed to piss her off. Especially right now, when she wasn’t actually asking him to delve into anything but what he saw personally. “But you were at the wedding and you’re here now.”
“The only reason I’m here is because we’re good at finding people and you needed found.” He glared harder. “And, fucking hell, Rose. You’re family even if you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Thanks, Grady, so sweet of you to say.” She wouldn’t pretend she hadn’t needled him whenever the opportunity arose at extended family get-togethers; he was so uptight, she was practically required to mess with him. She huffed. God, her throat fucking hurt, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her from getting answers. “You won’t tell me? Fine. Give me a phone and I’ll call home myself.”
“No.” This came from Jude. He didn’t look up from his computer. “Your parents specifically said they’d update you when you got back.”
Frustration reached a rapid boil inside her. “Since when do you care what Dmitri fucking Romanov wants?” There was a time when Papa and Jude were actual enemies. That hatred had faded over the years, but they were hardly what could be termed friends.
“Rose.” He finally lifted his gaze from the laptop. When she was a little girl, she just thought Uncle Jude was a quiet guy with the patience of Job. He wouldn’t play silly games like Uncle Cillian or Uncle Teague, but he also had no problem reading to their chaotic group of cousins for extended periods of time.
Now, as an adult, she couldn’t quite forget the fact he used to kill people for living. It was there in the steadiness of his gaze, in the quiet way he held the body he’d kept strong despite the years passing and the gray in his hair. Every once in a while, he gave her a flash of that man he used to be, and he was giving it to her now.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore, though. She lifted her chin, fighting back a wince when the move made both head and throat ache. “Tell me.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He leaned back and surveyed her again. “You were sure quick to get out of there. Left some loose ends.”
A wealth of implication beneath those words, implication she certainly didn’t want to examine too closely. By all rights, she should have shot Dante and left him for dead. Again. It was the smart thing to do, even if it meant having to dodge the law. She’d seen the look on his face, heard the truth in his words.
He wouldn’t stop coming for her.
Not while they were both alive.
That was a bad thing. No matter how conflicted she felt the past couple days, ultimately a few days of mind-blowing sex with that man changed nothing. She was meant for Romeo. It was the only way to dodge issues with the Capparelli family, and that was doubly important now that the Russian branch of her family was involved.
Some large families managed to coexist, like the O’Malleys. Six adult siblings, and while some had married into other families like Mama did, there was no jockeying for power or backstabbing. No one really wanted to lead except Uncle Aiden, and everyone had their place and were mostly happy in it. Such wasn’t the case with the Romanovs.
Rose’s great-great grandparents had five sons, and from the way the story went, it quickly became apparent that if they all stayed in Russia would mean only one of them would survive. So, they kept the oldest son and sent the other four to the US with the instructions to carve out a piece of territory for themselves. Kind of a fucked-up American dream, but they managed it. Their descendants got along well enough because of the distance involved, but all continued to answer to the branch of the family who remained in Russia.
In her grandfather’s generation, they mostly kept their hands off their American cousins. They had their own shit they were dealing with at the time, and the freedom benefited the Romanovs on this side of the world. Then Vladimir Romanov died, and his son Jovan took over.
And things changed.
Jovan and his two brothers weren’t like the Russian Romanovs of the past. They functioned as a unit. Jovan in charge of everything. Artem, the muscle, who enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Jacek, the money man, who’d turned their finances into something truly outstanding—or at least that was the rumor. Even their now-adult children—like Casimir—kept in line. They might be Romanovs, but they were not allies to their American cousins.
Ever since Jovan took over, he’d been looking for an excuse to bring the American Romanovs back into the fold…and dip his hands into the deep pockets of money Papa and the others had earned over the years.
An excuse she’d unwittingly given them when Dante kidnapped her. Though, if it hadn’t been this, it would have been something else. They were too old-school to appreciate her as heir. No matter what else was true, eventually they would have found a reason to come calling, weapons in hand.
Which meant she needed the alliance with the Capparellis and anyone else she could find. Rose’s family and territory was strong, but she didn’t know if it was strong enough to hold against her Russian family. No, that was a lie. She knew for a fact they weren’t strong enough. Not alone.
All this added up to any future with Dante being entirely out of the question. And not simply because her family would shoot him on sight.
Neither Grady nor Jude would answer her questions, and she eventually fell into a light sleep, only to jar awake as the plane touched down. Jude shut his laptop and shoved it into a bag. “Your parents are waiting.”
Rose didn’t expect the sudden nerves tightening her shoulders. She’d done everything she could to escape, hadn’t she? She’d put the family first and ensured no one was hurt during her kidnapping…
She didn’t have an excuse for sleeping with Dante, though.
Grady rose with her, so tall, he had to duck a little to avoid beaming his head on the roof of the plane. His gaze landed on her throat. “I’m glad you’re okay, Rose.”
That was just like Grady. He was kind of a dick and abrupt to the point of rudeness, but when push came to shove, he would show up every time. She managed a smile. “Thanks for coming for me.”
“Yeah. Always.”
Rose wanted to stop in the bathroom to put herself together, but it wouldn’t matter. She’d seen the bruise darkening her throat, could hear evidence of it in the rasp of her voice. Frankly, she looked like shit, and no amount of sprucing would fix it. She took a deep breath that burned and followed her cousin and uncle out of the door and down the steps to where her parents waited.
Mama and Papa stood next to a black town car, appearing as perfectly put together as always…at least until she took a second look. The lines around Papa’s eyes and mouth were deeper than normal, and there were faint smudges beneath Mama’s eyes that not even her expertly applied makeup could effectively cover.
Papa
raked his gaze over her like he hadn’t quite believed she was on the plane. Relief flickered through his eyes for a moment before he masked it and nodded to Jude. “Spasibo, Jude.”
“There were complications. Rose will fill you in with the details.” He jerked his chin at Grady. “Let’s go.”
“See you around.” He gave her parents a respectful nod and followed his father to the truck parked a short distance away. Within seconds, they were inside and roaring away from the plane. No doubt headed back to Boston and away from all this trouble. She couldn’t fault them for it. They chose to stay as far from the sketchy shit as possible, and even if they hadn’t… Ultimately her Boston family had their own battles to fight. If the situation became truly desperate, she could call on them for help, but it would look weak to do it now. She couldn’t afford to look weak. Not with so many unfriendly eyes on her.
“Roza.” Mama dragged Rose into her arms and held her tightly, and then Papa wrapped his arms around both of them. Rose closed her eyes and let her parents comfort her for several long seconds. In that moment, she was a child again and there were no battles her parents couldn’t win to keep her safe.
She wasn’t a child any longer, though. She was an adult. More, she was heir. She had to fight her own battles instead of hiding behind her parents and letting them do it for her. That started now, with the rough conversation they needed to have. She counted slowly to ten…and then did it again. It wasn’t enough, would never be enough, but she still managed to step back. “We need to talk.”
“Da.” Papa looked around as if expecting an attack from any angle, and then ushered them into the car. She caught sight of Vasily behind the wheel and they spared her a brief smile of relief. Papa settled into the seat across from her, and Mama took the seat next to her. His gaze lingered on her throat. “Now, tell us.”
“Casimir Romanov tried to kill me.”
Papa startled. “What?”
“Da. This?” She touched her throat. “His handiwork.”
