Page 78 of In Her Blood
The first signs of trouble presented when they laid eyes on his father’s sitting room. The same room Lina had sat downwith Artem to ask him his motivations and determine whether or not she would give him her trust.
Lina gasped quietly at the destruction that revealed itself.
It wasn’t unlike the scene they’d found in her suite at the house, actually. Tossed and trashed furniture, smashed possessions, glass strewn across the floor. And a little blood. A few concentrated drops in one section, a smear in another, a small splatter in a third. His father, of course, had put up a fight.
Otto couldn’t decide if he was proud or frustrated for that.
“My guess is they’re both gone,” Mikey said as Otto and Lina stared at the upturned room.
“What?” Lina asked.
Otto glanced Mikey’s way in time to see the younger male indicate the mounted television. So he shifted the direction of his gaze, taking in the spiderweb of cracks that had definitely not been there before—and the sticky note adhered to the glass. He muttered a curse, strode forward, and snatched it off before forcing himself to read the thing.
He opted to read it out loud rather than risk having to read it twice. “If you want your father to see another sunset, bring the princess. No brigadiers.” Otto ground his teeth as his eyes skimmed the address scrawled beneath the words. He passed the paper to Mikey.
“I assume he doesn’t meanhere,” Lina said, looking between them.
“He does not.”
Mikey looked up from the tablet he’d brought with him. “Why is this address registered to your dead cousin?”
Lina swung her focus back to Otto.
“Because Pyotr recently inherited it from Mikhail.”
Lina’s eyes widened. “The distillery? Grisha’s calling us out to the damndistillery?”
Quiet footfalls precluded Dante and Romeo rejoining them, and Dante wasted no time confirming that he’d heard enough to be up to speed. “That could work well to our advantage, actually.” A smile Otto was comfortable admitting to himself he had no desire being on the wrong side of tipped Dante’s lips. “Your enemy knows you’re familiar with the location, but I presume he expects you to come alone?”
Mikey passed over the note. “Specified ‘no brigadiers.’”
Romeo chuckled. “Well, would you look at that. Not a brigadier in the room.”
Lina shook her head. “Wait, wait, not that I’m not appreciative of the offer, but you brought, what, two men apiece? It’s safe to assume Grisha’s going to have backup this time, now that we know he’s a Morozov. I don’t think I could stomach it if you came out to meet me and my introduction to your wives ended up being your funerals.”
Mikey cocked a brow at her. “What, you’d rather go in just you and Otto?”
“No,” Lina said.
Otto scowled. “Lina, if you’re eventhinkingof handing yourself over to those bastards, I swear—”
She waved a hand at him. “I’m not, okay? I’m not. I’ve just”—she drew a hard breath—“I’ve buried enough family this month. That’s all I’msaying.”
Otto ground his teeth. Of course, he understood her point. And if it meant they went in the underdogs, he’d have to figure something out. Somehow.
Dante tucked his hands into his pockets. “Mikey,” he said. “Indianapolis and St. Louis are an easy hours’ flight to Chicago, right?”
Otto watched Lina’s face contort in a similar confusion to the sensation prickling inside him.
“Give or take a couple minutes,” Mikey replied, tapping again at his tablet.
“Good. Get me on conference with Santino and Teodoro immediately.” Dante locked eyes with Otto. “May we borrow your kitchen?”
Evelina took the quickest shower of her life after Dante’s astounding phone call. Not because she was so short on time but because some stupid part of her feared her magical new relatives might evaporate or grow common sense and run away if she lost sight of them for too long.
He had allowed her and Otto to sit in, out of sight of the camera, while he and Romeo sat in-view and made one call to two entirely different men. Men who, she quickly learned, were the actual bosses of other mafia families in completelyseparate territories. Men in completely separate states. Men who took direct calls from Dante De Salvo, even conference calls. Men who didn’t sling a single insult during those calls, and who didn’t more than briefly pause over the no-warning politely wordedcommandto send a full dozen soldiers to Chicago. Immediately.
Dante’s only spoken concession? The cost of the flights and the promise of transportation upon arrival.
