Page 62 of His Passerotta

My hardened eyes meet his, no trace of humor showing on my face if it’s any mirroring of how I feel. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm. You hate tardiness much more than I do.”

“You have absolutely no room to talk in regards to tardiness,” he scolds. “But you’re right, there are few things that irritate me more. Dancing is one of those things.” He gestures to the building behind us where the reception is taking place. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

When I don’t respond, one side of Lorenzo’s lips tilt. “Don’t be so serious.”

“Maksim wouldn’t be driving out here if it wasn’t something serious. It would be unfitting to be relaxed.”

“If it was something that would be harmful to us, he would’ve made you go to him.”

I turn to face the road, searching for headlights. Lorenzo is right, Maksim probably needs some kind of favor, but it’s impossible to know for sure. The whole thing is strange.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Lorenzo says. “After today, our alliance should be solid. So don’t worry.”

I blow out another breath and check my watch. Only two minutes have passed since I last checked.

Lorenzo is right again. The Irish suffered two attacks today that they didn’t seem to see coming with how unprepared their guards were when our men arrived at one of their warehouses. They’ll be retaliating full force soon enough, but with our alliance with the Russians, they stand no chance. They’ll be out of Vegas or all dead within a few weeks. The Russians will benefit more than anyone when that happens, so they need us.

Finally, headlights shine in the distance. I tuck my hands inside my pockets, my fingers tapping erratically and watch as a blue van pulls into the parking lot.

Hugh gets out first, opening an umbrella before going around to the back door. Maksim throws open his door and storms toward us with unmistakable rage, soaking his white T-shirt in the rain.

He says nothing as he takes the steps to join us on the pavilion, just stares with a pissed off look on his face. Hugh hurries toward us with something, no someone, thrown over his shoulder.

He places a woman on her knees in front of us, and I have a feeling I know who it is before he ever takes the bag off her head. Once he does, Bailey’s scared eyes, surrounded by dark, smudged makeup, find me.

Goddammit.

“What the fuck is this, Gruco?” He flings his hand to gesture at Bailey, meanwhile my eyes scan her for injury. She looks okay. Scared, but okay.

I share none of her fear. I was afraid this would happen, but now that it has, I’m more annoyed than I am worried. If he wanted to kill her, he wouldn’t have brought her to me. In a way, it’s good that she won’t need to lie low anymore.

“A woman, Maksim,” I answer, calmer than I was a few minutes ago. “I understand you might not be familiar with the opposite sex up close, but surely you’ve seen one in pictures.”

“She’s supposed to be dead,” he grinds out.

“No, she isn’t.”

“What?” His eyes go wide as his fists clench at his sides. “You said you would take care of her.”

“There’s nothing to take care of,” I say. “She isn’t your concern.”

“She spied on my meeting. Saw my face. Of course she’s my fucking concern! Who knows what she may have heard.”

“She heard all of it,” I say, glancing at Bailey with my expression relaxed in an attempt to calm her. She breathes heavily past the black cloth gag. “She was there before the meeting even started.”

“What?” he repeats with even more frustration. “How do you?—”

“Because I told her to be.”

His eyes narrow while he waits for me to continue.

I roll my eyes like he’s an idiot for not already knowing my fake story. “I was using her as a spy. Or, at least I planned to. The idea was for Finn to take her and run his mouth enough for her to find out what really happened with the grocery store fire and if they were behind it. I’d also hoped he’d take her to Cormac so I could find out the security detail he has on their grounds.”

Skepticism drains from Maksim’s face as he glances from me to Bailey. He’s buying it. Which is good for him because if he pushes this much further, I’ll have to follow through on killing him.

His hands unclench before he crosses his arms over his chest. “So you did suspect they were behind it.”

“I thought it was a possibility, sure. We’ve had good relations with the Irish and weren’t clued in on their attack against the Bratva, so they weren’t my first guess. But we wanted to make sure so we’d be ready for what they may have planned next if they had been behind it.”

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