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He lurches toward me, but Enzo holds him back.
“A few of them were killed today,” I continue, “so they’ll be fresh. I can’t say the same for all seven, though. You’ll have to move fast if you don’t want the stench bothering your patrons.”
“I suppose you think this makes us even?” I don’t miss the flash of hope in his eyes.
“Hardly.”
“You don’t want to start an all-out war with me,” he grumbles. “Not so close to the Pobeda launch. There’s a way for us to coexist.”
“Says the man who ordered a hit on my wife.”
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that yourwifeis alive and well. Pregnant, too. Didn’t take you long to replace the corpse, did it? It’s a win-win, wouldn’t you say?”
Enzo shuffles awkwardly from one foot to the other. Their dynamic seems slightly more functional than Rolan’s relationship with Feliks.
But not by much.
“What do you really want, Alessandro?” I ask.
“Why, a long lasting friendship, of course.” His eyes glitter like a bird of prey’s. “And dominion over the Temple District.”
“The Temple District is where I do the most business.”
He shrugs. “You do business everywhere, Arsen. And you’re pretty damn good at it. Relinquishing control of the Temple District won’t really hurt you.”
“No, but it might hurt you.” I drop my fake smile. “Come near my family again, Calcagno, and I will demolish yours. And if you stick so much as a pinky toe in the Temple District, I’ll sever it and shove the bloody stump down your fucking throat.”
Then I sweep around him and saunter out of the VIP section.
I’m almost to the doors when Enzo catches up to me. “You forgot your wallet, Mr. Adamov.”
The leather wallet in his hand isn’t mine, and I’m about to tell him as much when he whispers, “It was my father who ordered the hit on your wife. I advised him against it.”
“Clearly, he’s not listening to you.”
Enzo sighs. “The older he gets, the more resistant he becomes to my input.”
“If you don’t take charge, then someone else will.”
“I’m taking steps,” he admits vaguely. “But I’m waiting for the right time.”
Hm. Interesting. Alessandro may be a write-off. But there might be hope yet for the son.
“Just don’t wait too long,” I warn. “Once things are set in motion, it’s difficult to change their trajectory.”
27
LAILA
Responding to Arsen’s texts was my first mistake.
Turns out, my unbelievably handsome husband might also be funny, which just goes to show that God really does have favorites.Save some charisma for the rest of us, jerk.
My second and third mistakes were putting on the dress and heels he sent for me to wear and squeezing my pregnant ass in a car, just to come prance around in front of a bunch of rich people I have no desire to know.
“I want to go home.”
I peek through the double doors that lead into the ballroom, but I don’t see Arsen anywhere. Maybe he hasn’t seen me yet. Maybe, by the time he realizes I’m not coming, it’ll be too late to fetch me, and I can hide at home.
