Page 36 of Brutal Vows

“Shall we?”

My friend shakes his head bemused but allows me to divert the conversation. “Everyone is already here but Tomas and his men. They ran into some trouble getting out of Boston.”

Kenzo, Adrian, and I glance at one another uncertainly, but Seamus puts us at ease. “The runways have been slick because of the winter storms,” he assures us that it isn’tanything nefarious like a targeted attack. “They simply got a late start.”

“That is good to hear.” Kenzo sighs in relief. “We’ve been worried that all of us getting together would draw unwanted attention.”

The kind of attention that led to their fathers losing their lives in the bombing. It’s no secret that our gatherings are few and far between, reserved for moments of necessity rather than choice. Yet, in the past year, we’ve found ourselves in each other’s company more frequently than any year before, drawn together by circumstances that demand our unity. Vanya being abducted by her psychotic sister and then her and Adrian’s wedding. Kenzo’s wedding and Evaline’s subsequent kidnapping. And now this—war. Fuck all if I am going to let Gia add to the abduction counter.

With the introductions and pleasantries completed, we proceed toward an imposing pair of steel doors that mark the entrance to the rear of McDonough’s, Liam’s bar, affectionately named after his first love, Katherine McDonough.

As we near the main sitting area, the sound of laughter wafts back to us, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of lively conversation. The moment we step into view, we are met with a chorus of warm smiles and enthusiastic cheers of welcome, the room filled with an inviting glow.

“Brothers.” Matthias Dashkov grins widely as he stands from his chair and embraces each of us in a brotherly hug. “It is so good to see you. It has been too long.”

“You can always come out our way,” Adrian teases. “You have a license, yes? Unless they took it away due to your advance age, old man.” The rest of the group who has lined up to greet us, burst into laughter.

Matthias narrows his gaze at his friend. “You are nospring chicken yourself,zasranets.” Adrian smirks at the burly Russian calling him a little shit.

“True,” Adrian admits with a shrug. “But I’ll always look younger than you and that is all that matters.”

Matthias roars with laughter before he turns his attention to Gia. “And who is this?”

“This is Gia Nardoni,” I introduce her. “Gia, this is Matthias Dashkov, one of thePakhan’sof the DashkovBratvaand Liam’s son-in-law.”

“For now,” Liam murmurs jokingly as he passes by us to get to his daughter, Matthias’s wife.

“Be nice.” Ava chuckles at her father who reaches out to grab the bundle she holding to her chest. Once her daughter is safely in his arms, she turns to us with a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Vitali.” She leans in and kisses both of my cheeks, then turns her attention to Gia. “Hello, Gia, I’m Ava, Matthias’s wife.”

“But more importantly, the otherPakhan,” Liam jabs. “The better one, if you ask me.”

“Aithair.” The word is an exasperated sigh. “Leor.”

Instead of looking chastised, Liam’s grin widens. “Never,mo stór.”

Ava rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the woman at my side. “Ignore him. He’s a sour old man like my husband.”

“Heard that!” Both men growl at the same time.

Ava’s laughter rings through the room, and even Gia manages a small smile at the familial antics. Few people are privy to the intricate history of how the Dashkov and Kavanaugh families came together, an impressive feat accomplished by the brave woman standing confidently before us. Ava’s childhood was a grim tapestry of isolation and abuse, trapped in the home of a man who masqueradedfor years as her father. If Matthias hadn’t demanded Ava as collateral when the shit stain who raised her fucked him over, she might never have learned about her true parentage.

There are those who allow themselves to be a victim and there are those who rise as survivors. Ava Dashkov transcended mere survival; she emerged as a warrior and a formidable leader. She seamlessly stepped into the role ofPakhan, carrying herself with dignity and poise, turning her past traumas into the foundation of the person she was destined to be. This remarkable woman achieved the unimaginable—she united nearly half a dozen disparate crime families, forging alliances where there once was only enmity.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gia murmurs politely.

“Come sit with me.” Before I can protest, Ava reaches out and clasps Gia’s hand. With a playful tug, she guides Gia toward the neatly arranged row of tables that Liam has set up for the meeting. “Bailey is working today, so she can’t be here, which means it is just the two of us amongst all these neanderthals.”

Another small smile graces Gia’s lips. Jealousy stirs inside of me that she smiles so easily with Ava.It isn’t like you’ve given her anything to smile about.I’m not addressing that thought right now, I’m too busy to think about it.

Ever.

With Gia safely settled in Ava’s expert care, I make my way toward the bar, weaving through the empty tables.

“Whiskey neat, please,” I request when I reach the bar and watch as the bartender expertly pours the amber liquid into a glass. Placing a hundred into the jar, I tip my glass to him. “Thanks.” He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head and returns to stocking for tonight’s crowd.

“Gia Nardoni, Vitali.” I bite back a groan as the familiar voice grates on my ears. Dante Romano looms to my left, his presence as imposing as ever. His features are shadowed by a dark scowl, his brows furrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line, radiating an aura of irritation. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Not needing to explain myself to him, I shrug a shoulder feigning nonchalance. He lets out a deep, weary groan as his fingers trace the lines etched into his tired face. His palm slides from his forehead, brushing over the dark circles beneath his eyes, and down to his stubbled chin, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion that clings to him.

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