Page 41 of All Your Lies
“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” I say, reviewing my new inventory. “Call a few of the men and get everything moved no later than midnight tonight.”
“I’ll do that, then get some sleep. I’m fucking tired.”
Vinny sits silently while fucking with his knife.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“What’s going on with you and Alexa?”
“Why?” I furrow my brow.
“I saw her on the monitors the other night.”
“She’s mine.”
“And what about her and Marco? Any chance you’ll make them marry?”
At the mention of my brother, my hands ball into fists, the paper crackling under the pressure. “No. She’s mine.”
Vinny nods.
“Why do you care?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
Vinny shrugs as he stands and heads to the door. “Just want to make sure my cousin is with someone decent.”
Once he’s gone, my monitor flickers to life, showing Alexa sprawled on her couch, eyes crinkled with amusement as she laughs. From my distant vantage point, the sound still brings a comforting wave of warmth, a low hum that vibrates through the speakers and settles deep in my chest.
Decent is a foreign word in our world, but Vinny has nothing to worry about. I will treat Alexa with the utmost care and reverence.
“I don’t know why we had to come all the way out here. There are a million places I’d rather be than this. Fucking Russia,” Vinny spits as he shakes his head and rubs his hands together to keep warm.
I still don’t have a clue what Vinny’s so bent about. Chicago, although different, is also cold.
Ask him to torture someone within an inch of their life, filet their skin from their bones, and he’s giddy. Ask him to take a little trip across the sea, and now he’s all moody.
“You’ve been complaining nonstop since we left,” I say, my words forming puffs of mist in the chilly air. “And you didn’t seem to mind when we discussed this in my office two days ago.”
“Lack of sleep had me tired. I don’t trust the Bratva. History has taught us that.”
“Sometimes it’s time to change that history. More money, more reach, more power.”
I gaze across the vast expanse of the snow-covered field. The relentless weather has shown no signs of easing since our arrival two hours ago. It’s not uncommon for snow to be ten inches deep in early October, but it’s been inconvenient as hell. Despite having a private plane, we still experienced delays due to the weather. My eyes go to my phone. It’s six in the morning backin Chicago. As much as I longed to stay near Alexa, this business meeting couldn’t be ignored. I skim our message thread and smirk. She gives as good as she gets.
An unanswered message sits in wait from Luciano. He was agreeable but was adamant that Rosie be part of that deal. Though he admitted he wants to marry her off to his son, who’s in his early thirties, I don’t like the idea of using my sister as a bargaining chip. She’s not expendable. However, I’m torn. I know she’d be protected once she married into the New York outfit.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel reaches our ears as a black Aurus Senat pulls up outside the open hangar where we’re seated.
Alexander steps out, looking far older than his thirty-eight years. The harsh cold has visibly aged him, yet it’s apparent his unforgiving lifestyle has also played a part in his weathered appearance. Deep scars and wrinkles mar his face. His immense size and merciless behavior earned him the name The Brown Bear. Following his father’s death eleven years ago, he took charge and has expanded his sphere of influence all the way into the US.
I rise from my seat, my footsteps echoing as I move toward him, bridging the gap between us as we meet halfway. His brown gloved hand reaches out to mine, and I take it while stabilizing myself. A man’s handshake can reveal an abundance of details about his personality and character. With a forceful grip, he pulls me into his embrace, but I stand my ground, anticipating his actions, and squeeze his hand just as tightly while pulling him toward me. A smirk reaches his lips as he nods his head.
“I didn’t know if you’d come, Moretti,” Alexander says with his deep accent.
“Your invitations have been relentless.”
“But they finally worked.” He smirks.
“You said you wanted a meeting. Let’s talk,” I say, extending my arm back to the table and chairs where Vinny sits.
