Page 82 of Koroleva

"Kids," my father sighed, downplaying it. "He'll get over it, bella, be patient," he concluded, patting Nikita's hand, who could be mistaken for an iceberg. "Enjoy the club. Tonight, I expect you in the Suite Club for dinner. Don Giuliano is arriving from Calabria this afternoon, with Nonna and Salvatore. We're going to have a party in their honor, starting at nine, I want you there."

"I don't know if I'll be able to make it; I have urgent matters to attend to," my wife commented. My father's facial expression changed.

"Tonight?" She nodded. "Then you'll attend to them before or after," his tone didn't allow for argument. "Nine o'clock sharp, Romeo. It's a gala dinner, dress accordingly," he informed, getting up.

He kissed my wife, then me, and passed by Adriano to crouch down and talk to him. Davencroft simply shook my hand and kissed Nikita's hand under my watchful gaze; then, he left.

As soon as he was gone, my wife leaned in on the table, those green fields fixed on me.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned through gritted teeth.

"Aleksa called me and told me what happened. Are you okay?"

"What do you think? You don't see any ghosts, I'm alive and kicking, much to your chagrin."

"I don't begrudge you being alive. I wasn't the one who shot you."

"Maybe you didn't pull the trigger, but you gave the order."

"I'm telling you, I didn't."

"You're too used to lying, but you know what? Only you knew I was in that damn car," she spat annoyed.

"And as smart as you are, you haven't considered that maybe the shots weren't meant for you, but for me." My response caught her off guard. I knew it as soon as I saw her lower lip quiver. "You hadn't thought about that, huh?" She fell silent for a few seconds.

"Swear on your son's life that you had nothing to do with it."

"I swear it," I said without hesitation. "If my word means anything to you." She punched the table, making the glasses tremble. Some of the diners turned their faces to see what had happened.

"Your father. It was him."

"I haven't spoken to him this morning. If he's here, it's by chance. I only made a call to my men. I wanted them to follow you for safety." I wasn't going to tell her it was to see what she was up to. She snapped her fingers.

"Then it was them. They thought they were doing you a favor by getting rid of me."

"No, Nikita, no. My men weren't involved either; they got a flat tire right after leaving the estate and arrived at the club forty minutes after you."

She narrowed her eyes, doubting, and it was good that she did. At least, she wasn't blaming just me anymore.

"Are you telling me those bullets weren't meant for me, but for you?"

"That's the conclusion I've come to because, as I said, nobody, except my men, knew you were riding in the Bugatti."

"What if one of them mentioned it to someone or is trying to screw you over for something?"

"How did they end up behind you then? Teleporting? It's impossible."

"What about your whore?"

"Irene?! Are you crazy? She doesn't have a clue how to shoot a gun; she's terrified."

"As far as you know. Maybe she was waiting for you, saw

me, and went after me to make you a widower."

"She has no reason to kill you."

"Why? Because she can screw you whenever she wants?"

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