9. Gio

9

GIO

I scrubbed a hand over my face as I sat in my dimly lit office, the heavy wooden desk clean and organized because I hadn't been home in far too long.

I came back to the West Coast just days after the incident with Tatiana Petrov. It had nothing to do with me "running" from a problem I'd created for myself, though I knew I should have fucking walked away and let her handle her own shit by herself.

Truth be told, I had a marriage to arrange for Claudia, one she wasn't fucking going to take kindly to.

But hell, I couldn't think about that now either—not with so much on my damn mind.

Tatiana shouldn't have been at the fight to begin with, but fuck me, I'd seen her pressed against that wall being choked out, and something in me shifted and then snapped.

I'd left Desolation because I had business to handle here and an urgent phone call with Carmine, the Head of Italy.

And I needed to get far away from anything remotely related to Tatiana because I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her.

The faint scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air, and the flavor of whiskey coated my tongue.

I was staring out my office window when my cell rang, the burner phone reserved for only the most important calls.

Already knowing who it was, I ran my hand over my jaw, the scruff scraping along my palm. I answered and leaned back.

"Carmine," I kept my voice even. Whenever Carmine Lucchesi called, it was never a good thing. He always wanted something, and that was usually to get someone else's hands dirty with blood. "It's good to hear from you." It wasn't.

"Gio." His voice was smooth, yet there was an underlying tension. "è così bello parlare di nuovo con te." It's so nice to speak with you again.

He was full of shit .

"What can I do for you?" I stood and poured myself another drink because I fucking knew I'd need it for this conversation.

"I have a matter of utmost importance that requires your immediate attention."

I went back behind my desk and took a seat, a sense of foreboding settling over me. I took a long drink from my whiskey before I responded. "What do you need from me?"

I heard him inhale as if he too were smoking a cigar. "We have a problem in Desolation," Carmine began, then exhaled whatever smoke he'd just filled his lungs with. "A Russian mafia member, Maksim Volkov, has been causing us significant trouble."

I sifted through my memory for an answer as to why that name sounded familiar. And then it clicked. He helped "clean up" messes with Arlo Malkovich, Ruin's expert fixer. But Maksim wasn't just some piss-on help boy. I knew he had a blood relation to a higher-up in the Bratva, which made taking him out even trickier.

"He's interfering with our operations and threatening our interests. He needs to be eliminated."

I clenched my jaw. "Carmine, killing anyone in the Desolation Bratva will cause significant issues," I told him, and he kept his fucking mouth shut. "You know my brother-in-law Nikolai and his brother Dmitry are heads of the Bratva there. Taking out Volkov could spark a war within my family, if it ever were revealed who took out one of their own."

Carmine's tone hardened. "Believe me, I understand how delicate the situation is, Gio, but this is non-negotiable."

I tossed back the rest of my whiskey and ran my hand back and forth over my head.

"Volkov needs to be eliminated."

"What exactly has he done?" I asked because fuck if I wasn't going to know exactly why someone close with the Bratva was getting slaughtered and my ass would be on the line for it.

Carmine's voice took on a steely edge. "Volkov has decided to work with some lowlifes because he's done being at the bottom of the hierarchy. He's taken matters into his own hands to climb the ranks and has been encroaching on our territory."

For fuck's sake.

"He's been siphoning off our profits from the drug and weapon trade shipments."

Something in the way he said that made my neck tingle. Carmine was lying, but about which part, I didn't know. And I didn't know why he would.

"Because of his sloppiness and the giant set of balls he apparently has, he's been linked to an orchestrated attack on one of our warehouses."

Fuck . I knew exactly what attack Carmine meant because I had to deal with the fallout when I was in Desolation. I had to clean up three bodies that were tied to the Cosa Nostra, and we fucking lost a significant shipment to those bastards.

"And the men Volkov is dealing with also sent a clear message that they intend to expand their influence in Desolation at our expense. They are fucking out of control."

"Let me talk to the Petrovs. I can have them look into this, since it deals with their men?—"

" We fucking handle this." Although his voice was steady and even, I heard the lethal intent laced within his words.

Motherfucker.

"If we don't stop him now, he'll continue to undermine our operations and destabilize our control."

I ground my molars and asked between clenched teeth, "What exactly do you want me to do, Carmine?"

"Slaughter him," he said without hesitation. "I want you to send a message. But this needs to be a clean job. No traces and no loose ends. I want it to look like an internal matter within the Bratva."

I knew I shouldn't have said what spewed from my mouth, but it was out before I could stop myself. "I can't be involved. I can't do the hit. This isn't just a personal position I'm taking but one that keeps the Cosa Nostra strong in Desolation and our alliance intact." All I could think about was the blowback from the Petrovs. It would damage and destroy the bonds we'd worked so fucking hard to tie over the years.

Hell, Amara had been used as a pawn and bartered off to a sociopath to ensure this unity.

It didn't matter if she loved and was loved by that insane motherfucker. She'd still been used to make an alliance, and I wouldn't risk that, even if that meant going against what Carmine wanted.

Carmine was silent for long seconds, and I wondered if he was going to say goodbye and then order my own hit.

"You'll figure it out, but I want it done swiftly, and I want it done now. Oh, and Gio?"

I clenched my hand into a tight fist as I waited for whatever order he was about to spew.

"Voglio che sia fatto con un tocco personale. Capito?" I want it done with a personal touch. Understand?

Yeah… I fucking understood. He wanted Maksim to suffer. I was curious as to why though. I got that this was an issue for the Cosa Nostra, but why was Carmine taking such a personal interest in this?

"Just make sure Volkov and the men he works with disappear without it coming back to us."

I closed my eyes for a moment, weighing my options. I had sworn loyalty to Carmine and the Cosa Nostra, but my family ties with the Petrov Bratva complicated the matter. But Carmine approved the wedding, the familial link between the Bianchis and the Petrovs. He saw how those ties would strengthen us on the East Coast.

"Carmine, if I do this, it could have severe repercussions. Even if it's not traced back to us, Dmitry and Nikolai won't take kindly to the mess this will cause."

"You're smart and discreet," Carmine replied.

"And the Petrovs are clever. If this isn't done correctly, they'll find out what happened." I seriously weighed just broaching this with Dmitry and Nikolai, but that would mean going behind Carmine's back.

"I'm confident you'll ensure it can't be traced back to us nor the Cosa Nostra. This is why you're one of my most trusted men."

I sighed, knowing there was no easy way out. I'd either betray my brother-in-law or the Head of the Cosa Nostra.

I'd figure it out either way, but fuck was this putting me between a rock and a fucking hard place. "I'll take care of it, Carmine.""You understand what this means?" I didn't respond. "It comes down to the la famiglia

and your loyalty."

I ground my teeth again. "I won't hesitate to do what needs to be done."

"Bene. Mi metterò in contatto più tardi per assicurarmi che i miei ordini siano stati eseguiti." Good. I'll be in touch later to make sure my orders were followed through.

The line went dead, and I set my cell back on the table, staring at it and feeling my irritation grow. To make matters worse, as soon as I wasn't preoccupied with other shit, Tatiana rolled right back into my thoughts.

The weight of my next move was heavy on my shoulders. My loyalty was being tested, being pulled from one side to the other.

Fuck, I didn't want to hurt my sister by fucking things up—especially when I knew how happy she was, when I knew she was in love and finally found what she'd been looking for. I might've seen Nikolai as the sociopath he was, but he treated Amara like his fucking queen. He paved the ground in gold wherever my sister walked.

And he'd kill and dismember anyone who fucked with her.

Jesus Christ . I knew I had to navigate this fucked-up situation with precision, or the threat of more dead bodies and shit hitting the fan would land right in my lap.