- DOMINIK -
Ivan jumps me the minute I walk through the door like a yappy, obnoxious dog. "Was she there? Did you see her?"
"Yes, she was there," I tell him, trying to calm his nervous, chaotic energy with the deep timbre of my voice. It never works.
Both of his hands curl into victorious fists, and he grins. "Yes! Unbelievable. This is amazing."
I shrug out of my jacket and follow him into the den where he pours us both a drink. He hands me one, clinking his with mine before downing it all in one go.
"Why do you look so unaffected, bro? Cheer up." He slaps me on the shoulder before pouring himself more. "This is the best news I've had in a long time. I can't wait to get my hands on her."
"How do you know the intel you got is correct? Vanessa Ricca looks like any other girl to me."
That's not entirely true. The mafia princess Ivan is obsessing over looked downright alarmed when I walked up to her, and it's been bugging me since I left the bar. I can't imagine why she would look at me that way—not unless she suspected who I was.
Maybe it's true. Maybe Saul Ricca's daughter has inherited psychic abilities of some kind. But I'm sure as hell not going to tell my cousin that I suspect that may be the case. He's got enough of a hard-on for her as it is.
"What makes you think abilities like hers would be visible?" He chuckles, unable to shake the shark-like grin. "My source is reliable, trust me. I just can't believe our luck. Why in the hell would Saul Ricca let his little girl work at a dump like that without any security? We have to grab her soon. I wish I could go do it tonight, but we'll have to settle for next weekend."
"And then what?" I ask, sinking into one of the chairs, trying to act as the voice of reason. "We don't have anywhere to put her."
"We'll keep her here," he says with a shrug. "Across from my room. I'll put a dozen locks on the door if I have to. She can be my pet."
"Your pet?" I glower at him. "You're kidding right?"
"No. Why would I be kidding?"
He sits on the edge of the chair across from me, too hyped about this to relax. This is how Ivan gets when the crazy ideas start flowing, and I brace myself for what I know is going to be a barrage of them.
"We'll keep her here with the three of us where she can be watched at all times. She'll work at the club at night. That way she'll get a look at all of the guys who come in and spend a good amount of time with them. It won't be long before we know who the rat is."
"What if you're wrong and she can't do what you think?"
"She can, trust me. Regardless, she's still Luciano Ricca's little sister. I'd pounce on her unguarded ass for that reason alone. That family has had it coming for a long time," he sneers. "If for some reason she turns out not to be useful, then I'll just put her into the rotation with the rest of my girls."
Cold dread rakes down my spine, but I keep the mask in place. As far as Ivan is concerned, I'm as unbothered by that suggestion as I am by all the other stuff we do. That's how I appear, and that's how it has to stay.
The trafficking operation our faction of the Russian Bratva established years back is Ivan's pet project, and my uncle okayed it because he's apparently as evil and demented as his son. It was also bringing in enormous amounts of money by the time Ivan even proposed the idea, because my cousin has a way of doing things first and asking for permission second.
Now I've been left with no other choice but to try to undo the evil shit my family is responsible for. I've spent most of the past four years secretly plotting the downfall of Ivan's pride and joy, but it feels like every step forward is always met with ten steps back.
I twirl the liquid in my glass, trying to figure out how to dissuade him from this idea of bringing Vanessa Ricca into the mix. But I'm afraid nothing is going to work—not when she has these supposed abilities that are virtually unheard of. I don't know where he's gotten this information about her, but he's positive that it's true.
In Ivan's mind, the Ricca girl is destined to be his personal psychic, revealing the hidden mysteries of everyone he surrounds himself with. That's a powerful lure if ever there was one. And it sure as hell doesn't bode well for me.
Too many transports of Ivan's trafficked women have been seized or spoiled over the years, and it's been escalating in recent months, making him desperate to find the one behind it. He's narrowed the responsible party to someone within the Brotherhood who has details about the business, but that's as far as he's gotten. That's as far as he's ever going to get, because the person he's looking for is me.
"You, Luka, and I aren't always here," I remind him. "Why do you assume we'll be able to watch the girl if she stays here?"
"When all of us are out, we'll make sure guards are here. And there's Maria and Chase."
"Maria and Chase cook and keep up the estate. They aren't going to be able to watch after a young woman hell-bent on finding a way out. And you can't let anyone in the Brotherhood know she's your prisoner, right? They'll wonder why. They'll start asking questions. It won't make sense that she's working at the club if she's not here of her own free will either."
"Dominik, this is my specialty." He leans forward, fixing me with his cold blue eyes. I hate that we share them, because all I see in his is the ruthless, heartless killer.
"I'll scare the shit out of her so she doesn't try to run, and I'll assure her she can leave once I get the information I need. As far as everyone else is concerned," he shrugs, "we'll tell them she's my new girlfriend. We'll give her a new name just in case word gets around that the Ricca girl is missing. It will be fine."
"Girlfriend?" My brows shoot up. "Don't you already have one?"
"Yeah. Now I'll have two," he chuckles, leaning back in the chair.
There's obviously no talking him out of this, regardless of how ridiculous it sounds.
"It's not like anyone will believe she's yours," he says, flashing me a crooked smile. "Not with your reputation. You're never with the same woman twice."
"You know that's a lie," I mutter, taking a sip from my glass.
Well, it's mostly a lie. I'm not about to get attached to anyone who will end up becoming a weakness that can be exploited. No one can afford that in this world of ours, least of all me—not when I'm plotting to undermine my family. I already feel like my own days are numbered.
"It doesn't matter that it's a lie. That's what everyone believes. And Luka isn't any better." He's about to take a drink when he pauses, appearing uncertain for the first time. "Wait, is she at least attractive? If not, that could be a problem."
I think about my impression of Vanessa Ricca—of the honey brown eyes and dark unruly curls cascading over her shoulders. The red pout of her lips and dark furrow of her brows as she took me in.
She far exceeds what I would simply call attractive. Hers is a sophisticated kind of beauty that seems almost elite by nature—like grace is woven into her very genes. The grungy clothes she was wearing didn't take away from that at all.
No, Vanessa Ricca is beautiful. She is Sicilian royalty, it's obvious. I can't believe it's not plain to the people she surrounds herself with in that crappy bar.
"She's attractive," I shrug, not wishing to spur Ivan along any further. I wish I could tell him she's ugly so there's a chance he would abandon this idea. But that's an easy lie to catch me in. I prefer my lies as circuitous and complex as they can get. "She's not exactly your type, though."
"Whatever that means," he rolls his eyes. "If she's even remotely fuckable, I'll have no trouble pulling it off."
I down the rest of my drink instead of having to reply to that. A foreign sort of protection bristles in my chest with that characterization of her.
"We'll call her Kisa," Ivan says with a snort, pushing out of his chair. "My very own little kitty cat. I better find someone to prepare her room. I wonder what will make a prize kitty like her comfortable."