Page 18 of Twisted Union

“Of course,” he snaps. “Gemma is like a daughter to me.”

I snort. “A daughter you’re not afraid to put your hands on.”

Marco tenses, his eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”

“Oh, I saw Franco—”

Franco slams his fist into my face. I fall back, laughing manically.

“Shut the fuck up!” he yells.

I rub my achy jaw. “That hit a sore spot, didn’t it?”

Marco looks at Franco. “What’s going on?”

Franco takes a deep breath, combing back his hair and straightening his jacket. “It’s nothing but lies. Mr. Levin here is trying to make me out to be the bad guy, but need I remind you, he’s the one who kidnapped an innocent girl?”

“I wouldn’texactlysay kidnap,” I cut in. “More like I persuaded Gemma to come with me and leave her family behind.”

“I saw what you did to her brother, Antonio,” Marco says. “He was badly beaten. I’m sure Gemma left with you because she didn’t want her brother and sisters to die.”

I shrug. “Semantics. Either way, I have her, and if you two want her back, then you’ll have to make a deal with me.”

Franco scoffs and turns away. “Make a deal with a fucker like you? I don’t think so.”

“Why? Because I’m Russian?” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Because I know something about you, Franco.” He whirls back around, his eyes wide. “I know you’re in cahoots with another Russian mobster. Oh, what was his name? Petrov, something?”

Franco slams his hands onto the table, getting right into my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only work with Italians. I built this empire off the sweat and labor of Italians, and it’s going to remain that way. I’d never work with a dirty, ego-driven, fucking Russian like you.”

“Oh.” I sit back in my seat. “Ok. Guess you’ll never see Gemma again, then. You can go if that’s all you have to say.” Franco hits the table again before stepping back. “But need I remind you it was your brother who grew the Moretti empire? It wasn’t you, and you know it.”

A sneer crosses Franco’s face. “I’m going to kill you, Viktor.”

“I’ll put you on the list. Trust me, it’s a long list. You might have some competition for dibs on who gets to kill me. But, Franco, you’re not hearing me. When I say it was your brother who grew the Moretti empire, I’m reminding you that you need to step up.”

“Step up? I don’t need to step up!” He grabs the front of my shirt and jerks me toward him, pulling me out of the booth. “I just need to kill you.” He lifts his gun from his waistband and presses it against my jaw.

Marco stands up, putting a hand on Franco’s arm. “Hold on. If you kill him, we’ll never know where Gemma is.”

“Franco, if you team up with me, you’ll be able to grow your empire so large and all because of you. Not your brother.You. Isn’t that exactly what you want?”

“I already have a deal with Marco. I don’t need you, too.”

“Sure.” It becomes difficult to talk as he presses the gun harder against my jaw. “But I have a lot of men at my disposal. I have a way of getting new recruits to join our business. I bring something to the table that no one else does.”

“Oh, yeah?” Franco jabs the gun against my cheek. “And what’s that?”

“I’m good at getting into places.”

Franco frowns. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Ask Marco.” I set my sights on him. “Marco, why don’t you share with Franco the time I beheaded your housekeeper.” It was two years ago, and I’d kidnapped Marco’s housekeeper, Camille, and … well, cut her head off to send him a message. I’m a fucking monster, and I don’t really care.

Marco doesn’t rise to the bait. “Franco, maybe … maybe we should discuss this.”

“What?” Franco whirls on him, letting me go. “We can’t let this fucker live.”

“We also can’t kill him. He’s the only one who knows where Gemma is.”

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