26. Rocco

26

ROCCO

" Y ou're making a mistake," Vito growled softly and pulled harder on his cigar. A large cloud of smoke escaped his lips when he sighed, then he used that cigar to point at me. "This whole thing is their fault. Fucking Ruskies. Now you stand there and tell me war is not the answer?"

"It isn't." I stood near the window, staring down at the street. Just below, several cars pulled up to the sidewalk and several Russians poured out. After a thirty-second sweep, the Russian Pakhan stepped out and adjusted his jacket.

"We should kill them all!"

Vito spoke from a place of pain. I understood that. Pain that was shared with me. My father was dead. His absence in my life was a growing cavern made all the more painful by the news that I had a son.

Did my father feel the same as I do now? Did he want to burn down the entire world just to keep me safe? Is that what fueled his bad decision to keep me away from Mae ?

Because I felt that way. I didn't know my son, but I understood Mae's actions, and those few burning minutes when he was missing, and I knew he was mine? I wanted to burn that town to the ground to find him.

"Why?" Vito snapped. "We know who gave the order to kill my son. Your father. That Russian general does not deserve to breathe air, never mind enter this building."

Slowly, I turned to Vito and adjusted my tie. "Because I have a son. And I refuse to enter his life while at war with another family. I refuse to place him in a position where he is nothing but a bargaining chip."

Vito's mouth fell open. "A son?" he asked hoarsely. "How? When?"

"Now is not the time." I smoothed both hands down my jacket and sighed. "I have missed enough of his life, so I will end this as swiftly as I can."

"It's not right." Vito's face turned a few shades darker as he stared at me, then he stamped his cane on the ground. "They deserve to suffer!"

"I know. I know how much pain you're in because I feel it too. I know it feels like someone has reached inside your chest and ripped out your gut, leaving nothing but a smothering emptiness in its place. But this is the best way. Face to face, we will solve this swiftly."

Vito grumbled under his breath, puffing angrily on his cigar until finally, he nodded.

"Fine. Have it your way."

Outside, I'm greeted by Dino who shoots me a single, important look. It was reassurance that Mae was safe under guard and that regardless of what happened here, she would remain protected.

Jian was down the hall, standing outside the room that the Russians had entered moments ago. Inviting them here was a show of power. We had been decimating them for over a month, and inviting them into my territory for negotiations was my way of showing them that I held all the power.

The Russian Pakhan 's agreement was him conceding. He knew I held all the cards here.

Reaching the door, I hesitated. There were several ways this meeting could go, and what I was asking for was not easily given. But if we were to have peace, I hoped the Pakhan would understand.

I nodded at Jian and he opened the door.

The Russian Pakhan , Marikich, sat at one end of the room flanked by several burly guards who had been cleaned of their weapons upon entering. He stood as I approached. The air was thick as each side waited for the other to make a move. Seeing him and knowing one of his men gave the order to kill my father made it difficult to keep my anger under control.

I ground my teeth and stopped a few feet away.

"Marikich."

"Rocco."

"You know why I called you here?"

"Yes."

"Let me remind you, just in case. Six weeks ago, my father was murdered. Assassinated. His death triggered the bloodshed that washes through the streets of New York, and the Russian corpses filling every morgue."

Marikich's eye twitched, but he remained silent.

"You may wonder why we targeted you rather than the Irish. The Russian cunts blasted through my father's funeral after you gave your word for a graceful mourning period." I didn't blink, scarcely breathed. Getting the words out without lashing out was a tough enough challenge that I couldn't focus on anything else .

"Yes," Marikich said in a low, raspy voice. "You have my utmost apologies for such a disgusting lack of respect from my Family."

"While I cleaned out your whorehouses, took your drugs, and killed your men, my grandfather was doing some digging. Why would you order such a thing? Why would you start a war you could not finish?"

Vito's cane struck the floor as he shifted his weight about. I ignored it and moved to my own chair. Marikich's eyebrow twitched, but he didn't move.

"Then I started to wonder if it was you who had given the order. And my grandfather soon traced a line of communication back to a single text message that started all of this. A single command to kill the Italian Don. My father."

"You know who?" Marikich asked, and his impassive mask slipped. There was confusion and a hint of anger.

"Yes. We know. And I want him."

"You kill my men," Marikich said. "You burn my property. You steal my girls. You grind my name into the dirt, and then you invite me here and ask me to hand over one of my own?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Because the blood that runs is only a fraction of what you deserve. I have already spoken to the Irish Captain. You will find no friend with them. You give me the man, and I will end this."

"After all," Vito piped up. "This man went behind your back and started a war. Unless you commanded such a thing."

"I did not!" Marikich snapped. "Your father was an admirable man. The peace he brought with him was hard-won, and I respected him. You have seen my losses. You think I would be stupid enough to make a move like this?"

Marikich dipped his head, massaging his hand over his large, bushy mustache .

"We deal with traitors inhouse."

"I want him," I replied flatly. "I want him right now."

Marikich lifted his eyes to me, and then he glanced at a few of his men. Silent conversations passed between them, things I couldn't hear, but I could imagine. A debate on whether to give me this one thing in order to bring about a new peace or refuse and see who can kill each other first.

"If you refuse," I continued, "you have my word that you, and you alone, will be able to leave here unharmed. My men outnumber yours ten to one."

Marikich chuckled dryly. "You did not come to play."

"I stopped playing the day my father died."

"Fine." Marikich sighed and straightened up in his chair. "The name."

"Vladimir," Vito said.

Marikich spun sharply in his seat to eye a man standing behind him. The man's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Vlad," Marikich yelled. "Tell me you did not."

"I did not," Vlad spat in a thick Russian accent. "They lie."

"The fuck we do." Dino strode forward, pulling a small folder from his jacket. He tossed it into Marikich's lap. "See for yourself."

All eyes were now on Vlad as Marikich read through the information we had gathered, including screenshots from Vlad's phone and the message he sent to the men we killed in the graveyard.

"Vlad!" A sudden furious spew of Russian escaped Marikich, and he stood, turning to his men. They parted like waves, allowing Marikich to approach Vlad. Their argument started low and grew in volume. I didn't speak Russian, but I could guess what Vlad was trying to say to defend himself .

"I don't give a shit how this affects your internal politics," I snapped, rising from my chair. "You give him to me, and this war is over. Do you understand?"

"Take him," Marikich spat aggressively. "Fucking traitor."

Those three words spurred the other guards into action. They grabbed at Vlad, who tried to fight, but he was quickly overpowered. They wrestled him forward despite his protests until he was in front of me. Then he was forced to his knees and held there by his own men.

"You fucking son of a?—"

I pulled out my handgun, pressed the barrel to the center of his forehead, and pulled the trigger.

He crumpled like a paper bag, silent, and the empty silence that followed was eerie. Staring down at the man who had ordered my father's death as part of some power play didn't give me the sense of relief I was hoping for. In my mind, I'd hoped killing this fucker would ease my pain or bring me a satisfied feeling of revenge.

There was none of that. Only more emptiness and a little disgust.

"We are good?" Marikich asked cautiously. "War is over."

I holstered my weapon and stepped away from the remains.

"Yes. Your women will be returned to you, and any captives we have will be set free."

There was relief on Marikich's face, although I couldn't be sure whether it was aimed at the war being prevented or the fact that I had helped him root out a traitor.

"You have my gratitude," Marikich said.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I turned to Dino and Jian who were watching me closely, perhaps checking to make sure I wouldn't give in to my pain and kill everyone for the sake of it.

"Let's go home."

I had a son to meet.