Page 149 of Bound By Revenge

“Obviously. And I don’t blame you. If I were you, I’d be embarrassed, too.”

Her words are cutting, but before I can respond, something catches my eye—a cell phone lying on the floor just outside the kitchen.

I walk over and pick it up, turning it over in my hand. “No wonder she hasn’t been answering my calls,” I mutter to myself.

Behind me, A.J. gasps. “Shit.”

I turn, narrowing my eyes at her. “What is it? Tell me,” I demand.

A.J. needs no further encouragement, talking a mile a minute. “The reason I came here in the first place is because I was on the phone with Kat—sharing some pretty spectacular news, by the way—when she just went quiet. Totally unresponsive. Then the call dropped. I called back a bunch of times, but she never picked up. Never called me back, either. That’s not like her. I just had a bad feeling about it.”

I have a bad feeling, too.

“Tell me everything you discussed with her,” I say sharply, urgency coloring my tone.

A.J. hesitates, her lips tightening. “Is this about Salvatore?” I press.

Her eyes widen as she gasps, scanning me from head to toe. “You know about thestronzo?” she asks, her voice tinged with surprise.

I frown. “Who?”

“Giuseppe Salvatore. The Italian family boss. Kat and I call him thestronzo—it means asshole in Italian. Did she tell you about him?”

I nod tightly. “Yes. I know about the fucker. Were you two discussing him?”

A.J. shrugs nonchalantly. “In a way. Earlier today, I finally got my hands on the motherlode—a boatload of records about his dirty little secret. As I’m sure you know, thestronzoonly holds his position as boss of the Italian family because of his wife, Gianna. If her father hadn’t passed the mantle to his daughter’s deadbeat husband before dying, maybe we’d never have to deal with him. You’d think that would've kept him in line, right? But nope. Rumors about him stepping out have always been around, but until today, they were just that—rumors.

“Now, I have solid proof of his screw-up, and trust me, I’m not afraid to use it. As soon as I find Kat, my next move is meeting Gianna Salvatore to tell her all about her husband’s secret love child, this guy named Dmitri Ivashkov.”

My heart screeches to a halt. Every muscle in my body tenses as her words echo in my head.

“What did you just say?” I ask, my breath catching.

A.J. barely skips a beat. “I said I have to find Kat ASAP so I can pay Gianna a visit. Then maybe Kat and I will jet off to Ibiza. You’re not invited, of course, and?—”

“No.” My voice cuts through her rambling. “The son’s name. What did you say it was?”

“Oh,” A.J. says, blinking. “It’s Dmitri Ivashkov. Why? Do you know him? I didn’t want to be rude and ask you outright. You know, wouldn't want to imply all Russians know each other or something.”

“You must’ve heard it wrong,” I say, my voice flat. “The name. That’s not him. It can’t be.”

A.J. shakes her head firmly. “Nope. I’m sure of it. Dmitri Ivashkov. Early twenties, super hot in a himbo kind of way. His mother was one Elena Ivashkov. Thestronzosent them money every month for over eighteen years without fail. I’ve got loads of documentation to prove it. Even a copy of his birth certificate. Trust me, it’s him. Here, see for yourself.”

She hands me her phone, and with growing dread, I glance at the screen. My worst fears are confirmed.

File after file. Photo after photo. Every detail is undeniable. Dmitri—Dmitri—is Giuseppe Salvatore’s secret son. The bastard child of the Italian family’s boss.

I hand the phone back to A.J., my hand trembling slightly. My gaze goes unfocused, staring blankly ahead as I struggle to process the impossible.

I don’t want to believe it. But deep down, I know.

I pull out my phone and call Dmitri. Maybe there’s an explanation for this whole madness…

He doesn’t answer.

Panic begins to coil tight in my chest as I dial Vladmir next. He picks up on the first ring.

“Boss,” Vladmir says, his tone steady.

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