Page 16 of Lord of the Underworld

Walking into the stable, I pull my second phone out of my riding boot and dial her number. I wait for the phone to flash, warning about listening devices nearby, but the screen stays reassuringly dark as I settle on a hay bale. The stable is quiet. It houses five pretty mares, along with my Novia. They're all nickering at me expectantly, demanding apple pieces. The stablemaster Daria kindly puts a bowl of them in the stable for me when I call to let her know I'm coming. She knows how much I love to feed the girls.

"One moment, babies," I say. "I promise, you will get all the apples."

Yvette picks up immediately. "We have a problem. The Rossi’s, Luciana and her three kids. Something's going on. We just got word that Don Rossi is intending to have her killed."

"Oh, this is so bad," I groan.

"It gets worse. He wants to marry off his oldest daughters immediately."

My insides churn. "They're fourteen and fifteen!"

"For the kind of men that he'll marry them off to, that is a welcome bonus," she says bitterly.

“Okay… okay." I'm pacing, my boots kicking up straw. "Have you been able to organize a timeline based on what you know?"

"According to my contact, we have two weeks," she says dismally. "Maybe three, and we haven't put together anything past the initial research for them yet."

I press my hand to my forehead, trying to think. There's the comforting sound of the horses breathing, the occasional impatient whinny, and it helps me concentrate. "I'll contact Montel. He seems to be faster with documents, and his work is impenetrable to the usual scrutiny. Have you picked a location for them?"

"I'm working on it," she says. I can hear her fingers flying over her keyboard as we talk. "This one came out of nowhere. Usually, we have some warning, but our people didn't catch the signs. We were alerted by a bartender at their private club that some nasty old fuck was bragging about 'snapping up' Don Rossi's little girl."

"I have someone who works in the flower store that delivers to the Rossi mansion. I'll see if I can get a couple of listening devices planted in there," I say. "Yvette, we've got this."

"I hope so."

Yvette is the toughest woman I know, hearing her sound soft and uncertain like this is scaring me. "Do you want me to call her?"

"No." Her answer is immediate. "We can't risk him finding a connection between us this close to an extraction."

"Agreed," I sigh.

"We'll try to send some kind of message to her so that she knows she's not alone," she sighs. "When are you coming back?"

"Well, funny that," I say. "I told you that my father has arranged a marriage for me?"

"Yes, so civilized," she sneers. "So very Bratva."

Yvette is from an old French mob family, so I don't think she has much room to talk, but I let that one pass. "The groom wants to speed up the timeline. He wants to be married within a week."

"Wait, who are you marrying?" she asks.

"Vadim Turgenev."

Her fingers stop with a clack on the keyboard, and she half shrieks. "What? He's a butcher. The crime world calls him the Angel of Death, like his grandfather."

"He is going to be my husband," I say. "Look, I can only tell you based on the one time I've met him, that he is… odd. Definitely scary. But I didn't feel malice from him, or anger or sadistic vibes. You've trusted my judgement with reading people in the past."

"But… It's Vadim Turgenev," she repeats, as if that is all she needs to say to win this round. "Maybe he was just good at hiding it around you."

"Why would he bother?" I say doubtfully. "We've heard all the same rumors. He's never been shy about letting people know who he is, what with all the blood and the, uh, body parts. But he didn't feel like he would hurt me."

"I don't like this for you," Yvette says sadly. "However, right now, let's work with what we've got happening now."

"After the wedding, I know he wants to get back to Chicago immediately for the new business he's building there," I say. "So, on the bright side, I'm not going to be trapped here for the next ninety days, I should be home by next Tuesday."

"We need you, mon ami," she says.

My chest warms. This charity has been the first time in my life that has shown me I was needed, that I could do something to push back against people like my father. Maybe I can't escape my marriage, but I can help other women get free from their hell, at least.