Page 97 of Single Mom's Daddies
I turn toward her slowly. “You have something to say?”
She shrugs. “He’s our best assassin.”
“And I’m trying not to need one.”
She smirks. “You don’t get to choose when the world turns bloody.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “But I can choose not to hand it a knife.”
Olenna swirls her vodka like it holds answers. “You want the art world to save us, Roman. You think pretty paintings and cocktail receptions can insulate you from the way things used to be.”
“They don’t have to insulate me,” I say evenly. “They just have to give the next generation a chance to live differently.”
“And if they don’t get that chance?” she asks, gaze sharp and deliberate. “What then?”
“Then I’ll die making sure they still have a future.”
Silence follows. It stretches too long, heavy with all the things none of us say aloud.
We’re tired. All of us. Even Olenna. Even at this hour. But tired doesn’t change the fact that we’re still here, still standing over maps and names and enemies like it’s twenty years ago and the bodies are still warm.
Victor sighs and sinks into a chair. “We can’t stop watching Costello.”
Nikolai nods. “But we need someone we can trust. Not Max.”
“I’ll put Travis on it,” I say. “He’s careful. Smart enough to spot patterns, quiet enough not to stir anything.”
“Max’ll be pissed when Yuri tells him,” Victor mutters.
“Let him scream about it in a cabana with a drink in his hand. I don’t fucking care. I can’t risk him snapping again while Ivy’s upstairs sleeping.”
At her name, they both go quiet.
It always comes back to her and the other kids now. It has to.
We used to measure our power by how many soldiers we had, how many corners we owned. Now we measure it by how long we can keep a little girl’s heart beating. How long we keep all three of our kids safe.
That’s what changed after Nadia. Not just our methods. Our purpose.
I look at the map again, at the pins marking our remaining shipping routes. Svet’s next collection is already boxed and waiting to move. If Costello wants to block it, he’ll have to move faster than we do. He’ll have to play smarter than we’ve ever allowed him to.
And if he steps into our lane, if he threatens Ivy or Saffron or anyone else under this roof again?—
I’ll burn him out of this city piece by piece. Leaving him alive after the last battle felt wrong. But that was the old way of doing things, and we aren’t those people anymore. I tap the table once and turn back to the others. “Get everyone ready. Quietly. If Joe keeps pressing, we’ll answer. But we don’t move first.”
Victor nods. “Understood.”
Nikolai doesn’t speak. But his eyes are already elsewhere—calculating, watching windows no one else is looking through. He has a mind for computers, and I’m sure that’s where his head is at now, working on protecting the next shipment through digital means.
Olenna raises her glass like a toast. “You boys still think you’re running a business. But this is always going to be a war.”
“No,” I say, already heading for the door. “This is a family.”
And I’ll protect it with everything I have.
27
VICTOR
