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“Good luck trying.” He snorts. “You can’t get within five blocks of it.”
“We’ll see about that.” Vin lifts one shoulder lazily, though the coldness in his eyes never wavers. “And one more thing, while I have you… I assume you already know this, but just to ensure things are perfectly fucking clear, the contract involving your sister is terminated. I won’t have a child carrying even a drop of your family’s blood. Marco’s already been informed, and your distributors will no longer be receiving Marchetti wine.”
The Marchettis, our cousins on my mother’s side, own one of Italy’s largest vineyards, exporting wine across the globe. Marco, Caine, Romeo, Cassio, and Marcello run the biggest empire in Italy, exuding power as they rule their lands. But the “wine” Vin referred to isn’t bottled in glass. It comes packed in crates of military-grade artillery no one else on the market can get their hands on.
Mikhail lets out a dark chuckle. “Liliya is no longer your concern. I have other plans for her.”
“Other plans?” I ask, unease twisting low in my gut.
“You’ve made it your mission to wipe out the Vasiliev line,” Mikhail says smoothly. “As head of this family, it’s my responsibility to ensure our bloodline survives.” A beat of silence follows. “It’s time Liliya starts earning her place in this world.”
Vin’s fingers curl into a fist, his knuckles whitening. “You’re prostituting your own sister to—”
“Careful, Vincenzo.” Mikhail tsks. “Compassion is a weakness your family can’t afford.”
“You stronzo!”
“Do svidaniya.”
The call goes dead.
Every one of us falls into our own thoughts.
“He’s really selling his own sister?” Eli asks, disgust hardening his features.
“The Vasilievs don’t have a conscience,” Vin mutters, rubbing his temple.
Eli arches a brow. “And we’re just going to let him?”
“We don’t even know what Liliya looks like,” Vin snaps, his palm dropping down on his desk. “Or where the fuck she is.” He exhales sharply before straightening in his chair. “Last Marco heard, nobody could track her down. This could just be Mikhail trying to bait us.”
“And how did our dearest cousin, Marco, let you out of this contract so easily?” Leo asks.
“About that…” Vin’s gaze lands on me. “I need you to go to Italy.”
My body stills. “Why?”
He sighs. “The Marchettis lost their lead tech specialist. They need someone to rebuild their security systems and ensure nothing’s been compromised while they search for a replacement.” He shrugs. “They’ll forget all about that stupid contract if you do this.”
I arch a brow. “But I could do that from my computer here.”
He shakes his head. “Marco won’t risk it. He wants everything handled directly from their servers.”
I grind my molars. “I’m not leaving Clara and Charlotte behind.”
“I already accounted for that.” He waves a dismissive hand. “They’re going with you.” He unbuttons the top of his collar, like this conversation is already over. “You’ll be staying at their house in Capri. You leave tomorrow.”
I stare at him. “Do I get a say in any of this?”
“What do you think?” He raises a brow, daring me to challenge him.
A bitter smile pulls at my mouth as I rise, adjusting my glasses. “Guess I better get packing.”
“And when you get back.” He steeples his fingers before him, his eyes darkening. “It’s time to remind the Vasilievs who we are.”
The moment I enter my house, Charlotte’s soft voice drifts from the living room. I follow it and find Clara in her pink onesie, curled in Charlotte’s lap, listening to the story being read to her.
“And the princess and the prince lived happily ever after,” Charlotte finishes softly, smiling down at her. Clara giggles, reaching up to tap Charlotte on the nose.
