Booze and Bullets (Brooklyn Brothers #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,124

a long damn time, so that was saying something. How could I have been so goddamn stupid? So blind? So callous? I hadn’t even listened to her when she’d tried to explain herself. I hadn’t cared. I’d been ready to throw her out on her ass without hearing her side.

“Oh, my God,” Mom cried, choking back a sob as she fell onto the couch. “Nico, what have you done? You have to find her.”

Where would she have told that cab to take her? I wracked my brain, but the only answer I could come up with was by far the most infuriating.

And disturbing.

She had trusted Dimitri for years, just as Sergei had. He was family to her. I could absolutely see her running to him after I’d turned my back on her. She would trust him to return her safely to Sergei.

“I could try to track her cell phone,” Ace offered.

“Do it,” I snapped. “Now.”

When Mom started openly crying, Gia and the girls surrounded her. “She’s going to be okay, Mom. We’ll find her.”

“You don’t understand. It’s not safe for her out there.” Mom’s tear-filled eyes met mine. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

I froze.

Dread settled over me like a lead weight. “Tell me what?”

She pinched her quivering lips shut, as if conflicted over whether or not she should say it. “Lexi is…pregnant.”

The ground disappeared beneath my feet.

It was like I was floating in some sort of limbo, all other noises and voices a distant drone in the background. Despite my disassociation, I noticed that no one else in the room moved. Nothing so much as a whisper passed through anyone’s lips as they gaped at Mom, who was still watching me.

“She—” I licked my lips, swallowing around a dry mouth. “She…told you that?”

Mom’s mouth twitched. “I guessed. After six pregnancies, I can sniff one out like a bloodhound. She only took the test just this morning. She said she was going to tell you tonight.”

But instead, I’d accused her of being a deceiving harlot. She’d never gotten a chance to spill the beans. Who would have wanted to in the face of my assholery? Knowing Lexi’s pride the way I did, there was no way she would have after the verbal beatdown I’d delivered. And I couldn’t blame her. Not at all.

Jesus Christ.

I.

Fucked.

Up.

Baaaad.

“She is carrying your child, Niccolò.” Tears tracked down Mom’s face. “Your wife and unborn child are out there and in danger. My grandchild. Your family.”

That’s when it really hit me.

Lexi had my baby inside her. Our baby. I was…going to be a father. My son or daughter rested inside my wife’s belly—

And someone wanted to hurt them? To take my family away from me?

Oh, fuck no.

Kade’s words from the day of Cris and Jasmine’s wedding popped into my head. You don’t know real fear until your woman tells you she’s carrying your baby. You don’t have a fucking clue how far you’ll go to protect her until that day comes. Until you think about someone harming them.

Lexi was mine. That was a fact long before I found out about this baby. Now, I had even more to safeguard. More to value. More to lose. More at risk. And damned if I wouldn’t go to the ends of the fucking earth to protect all of it.

I’d kill for her.

I’d die for her.

I’d sacrifice anything for them.

Because I loved my wife. So much it was making it hard to think straight.

I faced my brothers. “We’re going to find her.” Anything else was unacceptable. “And we’re going to bring her back.”

And kill anyone who gets in our way.

“Got her cell signal,” Ace announced.

I rushed over to him and his laptop. “Where is she?”

“Well, I know where she was an hour ago. That was the last signal the phone sent out before it dropped off. It either died…”

Or it was destroyed. Which likely meant that someone was with her who didn’t want her found.

“Where!” I shouted.

Ace’s gaze flew up to mine. “Brooklyn Armor House.”

My distillery? Why would she have gone there?

In my hands, my phone started blaring an alarm, drawing everyone’s attention. I literally felt my heart stop beating for a dangerous number of seconds.

Because I knew that sound.

“What is that?” Cris demanded.

My finger was shaking as it swiped over the screen. “I get alerts on my phone if the fire alarms at any of my properties go off.”

Dad eased closer to me. “Which one is that?”

I stopped breathing altogether.

“Brooklyn Armor House.”

There was a fire at my distillery.

And the last

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