Page 83 of The Fighter

“I might not survive it, but neither will you. Answer my question.”

“No, of course I didn’t have anything to do with this,” he says, the impatient edge in his voice hard to miss. “I understand your fiancée has been shot at and you’re not thinking clearly, but come on. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to send a sniper after you, watch them fail, and then show up in person, putting myself at risk, all for the dubious pleasure of shooting you myself? Don’t be a fucking idiot, Tomas, you’re better than this. The hospital your mother works at bears my name. I’m the biggest investor in your sister’s restaurant. If I wanted you dead, it would have already happened.”

The adrenaline slowly fades. Gabriel’s right; it’s not him. Then who? I let my hand drop and slacken my grip around his throat.

He pulls away from me, putting some distance between us. “Please drop the knife,” he says. “My security team can be somewhat trigger-happy, and I really don’t want to be responsible for your death.”

I let the knife fall to the ground and kick it toward him. D’Este picks up the weapon and makes a covert hand sign. I half-expect a hail of shots to ring out, but to my shock, nothing happens. He must have asked his security team to stand down.

Gabriel turns to Alina. “Senorita Zuccaro,” he starts, but Alina isn’t paying attention. Her eyes are fixed on my arm. “You’re bleeding,” she gasps. “One of the bullets must have hit you.”

I look down. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“It’s just a…” Her eyes widen in outrage. “Tomas, you got shot. Why are you so calm about it? Is this a daily occurrence for you?”

“Every other day,” I quip. I turn to Gabriel. I pulled a weapon on Gabriel d’Este in the heart of his city. What the hell was I thinking? “Sorry about that. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I start thinking now. I’ve been assuming that I’m the target. But it doesn’t add up. Laurenti is many things, but he hasn’t survived over three decades in the mafia by being stupid. If Gabriel blacklisted VDL, they wouldn’t be able to get their money laundered, and the organization would be in deep trouble. Vidone wouldn’t make such a rookie move.

But if I wasn’t the target, it was Alina.

Then, it all comes to me in a flash. All the information was right there—I just had to put it together.

The Kutuzovo OPG had a deal with Vidone Laurenti, but Antonio had been surprised by that. What were his exact words? ‘I’m surprised Kutuzovo has time to flirt with Italy; I thought they needed all their resources to keep the Sidorov Bratva at bay.’

And Vidone’s daughter Sabrina died under suspicious circumstances.

Of course. It was Kutuzovo OPG—and their pakhan Gregori Malinov—who had Sabrina killed so that they could get out of the deal with Laurenti. When they found out that Vidone had another daughter for Damir Malinov to marry, they targeted her, too.

“Under the circumstances, your reaction was understandable,” Gabriel says with a wave of his hand. “I take it from your expression you’ve figured out who’s responsible for this attack.”

It’s not the father; Gregori Malinov is in Russia. It’s the son.

I nod tightly. “I need Damir Malinov’s address.”

53

TOMAS

Of course, it’s not that simple. As ready as I am to take Damir Malinov down, I know I can’t do it by myself. And Gabriel flat-out refuses to let Antonio send troops to Valencia.

“Fine,” I snap, feeling my grip on my temper slipping. “Then I’ll do it by myself.” I’m aware I’m acting recklessly, but I don’t care. Damir Malinov tried to kill Alina. I will not let him survive.

“And then you will die,” Gabriel replies. “You need a plan, Tomas.” He turns to Alina. “I deeply regret that you’ve been placed in danger in my city,” he says. “Please let me make amends.”

She lifts her head. “Do these amends include a doctor to look at Tomas’s arm?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s go.”

Gabriel whisks us away to his house. His on-call doctor cleans my wound and puts a bandage on it without blinking an eye. Alina hovers near me while that happens. “I hate this,” she says. “You’d think I’d be used to blood, but when it’s yours…”

I squeeze her hand. “I’m fine.”

She takes a deep breath. “I know you want to kill Damir Malinov,” she says. “And I understand. I want to kill him, too. But tell me why we can’t just go back to Venice.”

“This isn’t about revenge.” The hot flash of anger has evaporated, leaving behind a cold resolve. “Your father is desperate to honor the contract, and Gregori Malinov is just as desperate to end it. We can go back to Venice, but neither of them will leave you alone. Vidone Laurenti wants you married to Damir Malinov, and Gregori wants you dead. There’s only one way to end this.”

Realization dawns on her face. “Kill Damir Malinov.”

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