Page 137 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

“Then why is she still here?” I adjust my wool jacket to get relief from the heat. “What did he mean, inked?”

“That’s what worries me.” Ares clocks Drago and my guard over my shoulder. “I need a word with the pakhan.”

“I got this.” I signal Drago to get my car so we can get the fuck out of here and home to Chicago.

Home to my wife and daughter.

Ares grips me by the suit jacket collar with surprising force. “Why didn't you tell me at the auction that you and Sandrine had a child?”

I think about that. “I asked if you loved your wife. You said no. That told me you didn’t plan to keep her. Without her, you mean nothing to me.”

“Lourdes missed five years with her niece. But you knew all this time.”

“Do you know what I went through to get that woman in my possession for questions?” I bump my chest with his. “And who stood in my way?”

Ares straightens to his full height. “You had your coronation, you paraded your wife as your queen. You’ve got more Bratva to kill. Why don’t you give them both to me? I’ll⁠—”

I have a knife to his throat in a matter of seconds. “I will forgive you because you’ve not held your child. When you do, I want you to think about that question again and how you would react if I threatened to take them!”

I don’t want this to turn into a bloodbath Sandrine will read on the news, so I back off and put the knife away.

“I am legally married to Sandrine. She stays where she is.”

“You’re an asshole,” he says and adjusts his tie.

I straighten my jacket. “Here I thought we were going to be friends.”

“I expect you to be at the Aurelian next month. It’s the inaugural meeting.” Ares holds his head high.

“I’ll check my calendar,” I say, not sure I like him having this role in our new world order.

I stare at Zervas and wait to hear more threats, but he just stares back. Looking the same as me. Itching to get back to his wife.

Checking my watch, I nearly yawn because now I’m bored as hell. “I’m going back to Chicago. See ya, War.”

I turn before Ares can say anything else. Drago falls into step beside me, and we get into our SUV. He stays silent, not mentioning my scuffle with the God of War.

We reach the airport, and I smile seeing my plane. An urge to be with Sandrine is pulling me back home harder than power, harder than expansion, harder than the endless hunger for control.

The men we brought with us take seats in the back, while Drago and I sit at a table near the cockpit. For just a moment, I lean my head back when Drago’s phone rings.

I bring my gaze forward to see him staring at the screen with a perplexed look on his face. He takes the call, and his eyes immediately fly to mine.

Throat tight, I grip the table. “What?”

“There’s been an incident. In Chicago.”

Chapter 44

Sandrine

Holding Violet’s hand, I reach our SUV and tell the driver I’d like to stop for ice cream. His face twitches as he asks for the address. He gets on his handheld radio, and I wait to hear Kirill crackle on the other end.

What??

But he puts the radio away and then speaks to the guards in the SUV behind us about the diversion instructions. It’s not unusual for us to make an extra stop here and there. They’ve been driving me around for weeks.

We reach the ice cream parlor, and inside, two of the guards sit at a table and watch Violet while the other posts on the sidewalk. I know they’re watching Violet more than me.