Page 53 of His to Hold

As Enzo pulls up at the hospital, my phone rings for the hundredth time today. I look at the screen and groan. It’s Piotr Reznov again. I’ve ignored his calls for three days, but he’s persistent. I suppose, considering what happened with his uncle, I should be grateful the Russian hasn’t kicked down my front door looking for me. In his shoes, I’d be out for blood.

Deciding I’ve put off what’s bound to be an unpleasant conversation for long enough, I swipe to answer the call.

“Give me a minute,” I tell him before lowering the phone.

I get out of the car, then turn and lean in to speak to Enzo. “Take the rest of the day off.”

“You sure, boss?”

I nod. “My brothers are here. One of them can drive me. Go spend some time with Alicia.”

Enzo smiles. “Thanks, boss. I appreciate it.”

I nod and shut the door. Just because my marriage is teetering on the brink, it doesn’t mean I want everyone else’s turning to crap. It’s not pure altruism that made me give Enzo the day off, though. If the men are getting shit at home, it distracts them. I need my people to have their heads one hundred percent in the game. It’s hypocritical. My mind isn’t entirely on business at the moment.

As Enzo drives the gray Mercedes away, I lift the phone to my ear. “Reznov.”

“Three days you ignore my calls and then you keep me waiting.” His Russian accent is very slight, but becomes more pronounced when he’s irritated. It’s his only tell. The man gives little of what he’s thinking away.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” My tone is completely unapologetic.

“What happened between you and my uncle must be addressed.”

“What do you want?” I enter the hospital and head for the Stanhope Wing. “You want to come punch me in the face?”

“It was more than that,” Piotr snarls. “You broke his nose, fractured his cheekbone. He has a concussion.”

Fuck! I knew I’d hit him hard, but I didn’t think I’d done that much damage. I’m amazed he could walk away. The Russian fuck must still be in pretty good shape.

“So, what do we do about that? You want to go to war over one beating?”

“If it was me, I’d be out for blood, but my uncle demands I keep the peace. It seems love has made him soft.”

“You think he loves my mother?”

“I know he does.” Piotr huffs out a breath. “So we must find a more civilized way to settle this.”

“Such as?”

“We will meet to determine that.”

“Fine.” I reach the elevators. “When?”

“In the next few weeks. Business can wait until your brother is out of the hospital.”

It surprises me he’s not demanding an immediate sit down. That he’s waiting because he knows I need to focus on my family shows a level of decency I didn’t realize he possessed.

“I appreciate that.”

“One last thing.”

I heave in a breath, wondering what else Piotr has to say.

“My men picked up chatter about one of your men. He claims you had his son murdered because he was fucking your wife.”

Fuck! He’s talking about Paolo Mancini. I am going to have to do something about that before it gets out of hand. Muttering my thanks to Piotr, I end the call and press the button for the elevator. It arrives almost immediately and I make my way to Gio, bypassing the waiting room. The minute I heard my youngest brother had regained consciousness, I raced over here. Nothing is going to stop me from seeing him.

As I push open the door to his room, I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. There’s color in Gio’s cheeks once more. Don’t get me wrong, he still looks like shit, but his complexion has improved. He doesn’t appear so close to death anymore.

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