Page 69 of Hers to Control

I nod. I already know all of this, of course. “So what can I do to change his mind about doing those things?”

Gianna shrugs. “You can’t, but maybe we can.”

I raise my eyebrows in question.

“The fact that his father was testing Mikhail, trying to see if he’d give you up to help him out, tells us he still wants to win Mikhail over to his side again. Maybe not as an heir, but at least to show that he can make his son come to heel. Obviously, Mikhail isn’t doing that, but as long as Tsepov still harbors that idea, he might try shit like this again. So we’ll make a statement.”

“What kind of statement?”

“I was planning on a relatively small ceremony for my wedding. A reception with just a few people afterwards, here at home. Instead, we’ll have a big wedding at the church, not only showing the strength of the Bruno family and our people, but also inviting the Angelo syndicate.”

“You trust Riccardo Angelo? After what he did? He pretty much stabbed you in the back just as much as me.”

Gianna shakes her head, expression grim. “I don’t trust him, but I believe him. He’s too concerned about the Russians having a new contingent moving into Toronto to start anything with us right now. Mikhail and I were talking last night and the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, that Russian group Riccardo mentioned yesterday, is big into human trafficking. If Dmitri Solntsev is working on a deal with Adrik Tsepov, that means they see an in into the shipping routes in and out of Toronto, and that has always been Riccardo’s gig. So for him to come here and tell me about Anton is a pretty solid indicator that he is invested in having a continued alliance between our families in case shit hits the fan.”

“Okay, so planning a big wedding with everyone there is what? A show of force from the Italians in Toronto?” In my eyes, it sounds like a weak plan, but Gianna nods.

“It’s not perfect, but with the right kind of information hitting the streets, it will be a clear message to Tsepov that Mikhail has picked a side and that the shipping routes will not be surrendered easily. It makes Tsepov senior look bad, since his son jumped ship and is officially joining the Bruno family, and might impact advances from the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, since they may very well question Adrik Tsepov’s leadership.”

Even if I’m not convinced, I nod. “Assuming all that actually works the way you hope, that still leaves Tsepov’s grudge against my father.”

This time, Gianna grins. “When Tsepov went after you the first time, you were a fighter I trained with at your studio. Perhaps he realized we were acquaintances, sure, but he had no reason to think you were a relevant player until he sent Mikhail after you and he refused to give you the lesson his father wanted to dishout. At that point, it became about Mikhail and what his father could still get him to do.”

“Right…” I draw the word out, needing Gianna to get to the point.

“Well, now I hope you’ll be my maid of honor. You’re definitely no longer just the low-stakes daughter of some bookkeeper who screwed him over. Instead, you’ll be standing at that altar beside me and Mikhail, mingling with some of the most important people running this city. He might want to hurt us after that, but the Russians never had the rule of Toronto. If he’s really trying to make a deal with the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, we hope he’ll be otherwise distracted and won’t risk anything that could cause backlash while he’s in negotiations.”

It’s not a great plan, by any means, even if Gianna has obviously given it quite a bit of consideration. Still, I grin at her.

“So all of this is to say you want me to be your maid of honor?”

Gianna laughs. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Gianna isn’t the hugging type, but I still get up and embrace her. After a moment, she eases into the embrace, and I’m surprised at how good it feels to have someone else to hold like this.

“In that case, I’d be honored.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eric

It takes me three hours to get Anton out of the house and to the incinerator at the solid waste management facility. The most time-consuming part being the god-damned traffic in this city.

Just as I pull back into the driveway of Gianna’s house, my phone vibrates with a message. It’s a number I recognize this time, and I quickly glance around before opening up the messaging app.

‘You owe me a favor. Don’t forget that.’

I smile as I type out my answer.

‘Mikhail said you’re smart. Doesn’t look that way to me.’

Three dots blink, indicating Anya Tsepov is typing another message.

‘You have nothing on me, but you should remember what they would have done to your woman if it weren’t for me. My brother and your cousin did shit all to help you. I did. Keep that in mind.’

I tap out of the app and put my phone in my pocket. Anya Tsepov overestimates my capacity for emotions like gratitude. And yet, her text reminds me of the precarious balance we’re walking. This conflict with the Russians isn’t over yet, even if Mikhail and Giana manage to quell it for now.

I push the thoughts aside as I make my way back into the house. Mia is sitting in the living room.

---