“She’s a slut, and you know it. Christ, man. I offer you my perfect daughter and you turn her down? I don’t give a shit who you fuck once you marry her. She’s well trained. She’s a yes girl. She wanted the big wedding, that’s all, and your ego couldn’t take it, or was it the dowdy cunt’s ego that felt threatened?”
My control snaps and I take a menacing step toward Sergio.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the printouts. Everything’s backed up but a man like Sergio finds paper more real, more threatening than digital, even though it’s the same.
He frowns and turns the pages, his face darkening.
“That, right there, is a copy of your little deals. Of your plans, you’ve been sneakily trying to put into place. And not just with me. Pull one thread and others come loose. You’re trying to fuck over a whole lot of people. Teaming up with Rocco Federico. Taking Niko’s shit. Not even thinking about the Chicago branch of the family or even those lined up for their share if they step aside. You’re fucking people over, Sergio.”
“And?” His voice is tight.
“And back the fuck off, or I’ll let others know and bring your entire world down.”
Sergio laughs. “And yours.”
“Not. Mine.”
“You don’t have the balls, Demyan. You won’t risk the wrath of Rocco. He might be nothing in Chicago, but that’s only because he kept out of our business. Until now. You won’t mess with such a powerhouse.” He laughs. “No, you don’t have it in you to back up your threats. You’re weak, Demyan. You know how I know? You had the deal to becomea real leader with me and Rocco, not just Chicago, but half the USA. If you had balls, you’d have honored this marriage to Stefina because that little marriage would have furthered all your bratva connections.”
I stare him down until he pales and takes a small step back. I don’t even think he notices. But he feels my power. And I’m betting a part of him feels diminished.
“Watch your fucking back, Sergio, or I’ll finish you.”
With that, I step past him and walk down the hall and out the door.
I don’t trust that heap of shit for a second.
No. Not one bit.
The only way forward is to take Sergio out before he retaliates. And this document gives me the green light, because no one in our world likes false pretenses. Which was the marriage.
He wasn’t going to share the spoils. He was going to kill me after the wedding and take all of my holdings and power. A double cross.
And now he’s going to be toast.
When I get home, Ilya’s waiting.
“What happened?” He hands me a drink. I take a deep swallow, then turn the glass as I fill him in on what went down at Sergio’s.
“Thank fuck the girls are away. I’ll alert their guards. Just in case Sergio was either stupid enough or smart enough to send someone after them.”
I narrow my eyes, heart squeezing tight. Real fear grips me. “That’d mean we have a spy.”
“No spy. I handpicked these men. Pavel runs checks on everyone. We have a system. Right now, fuck trust. I do trust them but?—”
“You’re not taking chances.” I look at him. “If there isn’t a spy, how would he find out?”
“It’s still a commercial flight. Someone could be staking out. Even though we run better sweeps than the fucking CIA and DEA”—he has no love for the FBI and he has a plant there—“stakeouts can be hard to spot if they’re very, very good.”
“Chances?”
“Maybe less than one percent.”
I nod. “Let the guards know to up their ante on watching. If they want extra, we’ll fly them in tonight.”
He makes a call to Pavel. “He’ll get it done. What’s the plan?”
“We need to rally the men. Now.”