Page 52 of Vegas Daddies

Maybe it’s not a bad idea, letting Peter know that a Russian syndicate boss wants him dead. George Orwell was right when he said, “War is peace.” Creating problems creates panic, and where there’s panic, there’s control.

Except control is flipped.

Peter Dyson doesn’t know the first thing about survival. Words are his talent, not shooting, wielding hot iron rods, or knowing how to perform a successful kill unsuspected.

He needs us.

And when he finds out that Lifesaver, Match, and I have been sleeping with his “baby” this entire time, he’ll bite his tongue and run along.

Because we saved his life, and you can’t put a price on that.

13

ALICE

“No,”Lifesaver says.

Why does that word sound so hot on his lips?

“Think for a moment. Use your brain,” Brander says, pointing to his own. “It’s perfect.”

“It is,” Match agrees.

“Yeah, for you two.” Lifesaver scratches his head. Sweat shines on his face, and his hair, disheveled from previous activities that now must be kept swept under the rug, shines silver in the soft overhead lighting.

They want to tell Daddy about the Bratva’s plan?

They can’t.

They’ll panic him into next fucking year.

“Can’t you just act behind the scenes like you normally do and save his lifewithoutletting him know he’s in danger?” I ask.

Brander unclenches his jaw and turns his head toward me. It’s three times the size of mine, and looking into his half-sunkeneyes still intimidates me sometimes. Definitely, out of all three, he’s the toughest. The most unforgiving, and the most ruthless when it comes to fighting. One punch would knock Daddy straight to the ground. He’d be nothing but a pile of rubble.

I know Brander is no stranger to blood and violence. He could eliminate Daddy and get himselfandhis biker buddies out of his shit, but he’s choosing not to. That has to mean something, right? A perfect opportunity to shift blame onto the Bratva has presented itself, and he knows I’d believe him if he told me the Russians assassinated my father.

I guess there’s still time for him to act and cover it up. But a tiny voice inside of me tells me no. He wouldn’t do that.

“How will your father react?” Brander says. “When he finds out?”

“He’s not gonna,” interjects Lifesaver.

“He won’t react,” I say, “because he simplywon’tfind out.”

Brander tenses his jaw. Deepens his gaze. “Look. I’m just trying to look out for all of us here. Telling your father that he’s under Bratva attack will give him no other option but to turn to us. It will lessen the blow when he learns of our marriage arrangement.”

“He could go to the police,” I add.

“It never ends well with the cops,” Match says.”

“No.” Brander slips out his phone. “The Bratva have complicated ties to members of the Vegas police force. It’s too dangerous. Detectives who stick their nose into underground, illegal shit lose more than just their nose. Your father won’t be going to the cops.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You say your mother was killed by Russians?”

“Yes.”

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