was a baby—I never knew him. Mama passed about ten years ago.” She moves toward the door, avoiding my gaze. “I have to go. I’ll let you kill off the rest of the champagne. Maybe I’ll stop by again with something stronger.”
“Tequila would be nice,” I quip.
Marcella pauses at the door and grins at me. “I knew I liked you. By the way … I’m still rooting for you, Elena.”
She leaves without another word, and I fall onto my back with a sigh. Staring at the ceiling, I think over the few insights Marcella gave me. One thing I’m certain I understand about this mafia-world is that the women might be sympathetic to my situation, but none of them will step out of line to help me.
No one is going to save me. I’m going to have to save myself.
10
Diego
“There has to be another way!”
Every man in the conference room flinches when I crash my fist against the table, making glasses rattle and ice clink. I’ve gathered my lieutenants to discuss the Russian alliance, and the upcoming dinner at Oleg’s house in two days. I’ve been mulling over solutions to my problem and searching for a way out of this arranged marriage bullshit.
“There isn’t, jefe,” Jovan says from the seat to my right. “We’ve explored every angle. Oleg has the upper hand here.”
The others nod in agreement, their heads bobbing but their mouths closed. My mood has gotten worse with every day that Elena is under my roof. Our paths haven’t crossed since her escape attempt, which I should take as a sign that she’s accepted the reality of her situation. The sooner our contracted thirty days ends, the sooner I can go back to feeling any semblance of normal.
I need her out of my house, out of my reach … out from under my skin. It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know the woman and don’t want to beyond the bare facts of our association. She’s a means to an end—a dead one if Santiago fails to come through.
“What if we shut them out of the docks … or impose a fee for allowing their shipments through?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and pinching the bridge of my nose. My head has been pounding all morning from lack of sleep.
“It could work,” Carlos chimes in from his end of the table. “It might pressure them into agreeing to the partnership without the other condition.”
“Or it could piss them off and cause us more problems,” Jovan fires back. “Do you really want to start a war with the Russians while we’re still dealing with the Armenians?”
The Armenians have been terrorizing our docks for months now, ever since I cut them off for trafficking women and children. Apparently, they’ve found another way to funnel their cargo into the city, but it hasn’t stopped them from trying to make my life a living hell. I’ve had to increase security at the waterfront all along the east coast to keep watch over my own goods. The Armenians seem to think they now have the right to kill my men and steal my shit. They’re a smaller cartel, but not to be underestimated. Jovan is right that we don’t have the luxury of making a new enemy of the Yezhovs with the scum-sucking Armenians breathing down our necks.
“We need this fucking deal,” I remind them. “Work your sources, find any potential weak points we might exploit, or something … anything. Figure it out!”
My technology expert and resident hacker, Jaime, speaks up. “With all due respect, jefe. Couldn’t you just marry the bitch?”
I grind my teeth while staring Jaime down, contemplating knocking his teeth out. He’s the most valued of any man here except for Jovan, so I stay my hand.
“Marriage is out of the question,” I snap. “No one—and I mean, fucking no one, forces my hand. Instead of opening your mouth to spew useless shit, why don’t you focus on hacking the Yezhovs’ systems and finding me something useful!”
“Sorry, jefe,” he murmurs, lowering his eyes.
“Get the fuck out, all of you,” I grumble, snatching up one of the Scotch bottles near me and filling my glass to the brim. I don’t bother with the lime, sucking it down like its water while trying to keep from losing my shit.
Everyone but Jovan does what I say, getting out of dodge before I continue taking my irritation out on them.
“Go away,” I snap, glaring at Jovan while he tips his chair back