Page 38 of Silver Sinner

"She doesn't know. She's not one of us."

"What?"

"She's not of this life, Adrian. Of course her first thought is the cops."

"Then we should have let the cops handle it."

"Seriously?" I eye him over my glass. "What do you think a street gang working up the Russian totem pole would have done with a six-year-old girl?"

Adrian's gaze falls to his glass and he stares hard at the liquid, then knocks it back with a grunt. "We're stretched thin. The cartel are barking at our heels. We’re days away from them breaking the deal and coming for blood because we didn't provide. We can't handle that and the Barsukovs at the same time."

"I know."

"You should have seen them." Adrian shakes his head. "They think we're not taking this seriously because you blew off that meeting to scour the city for some kid."

I had the best intentions. Soothing relations with the cartel is at the top of my list, but when the shadow on Layla told me she was forced to close, all I could think about was her walking home alone with that little girl. So I left. Lucky I did, or I wouldn't have been in the area when the shadow called again to tell me she'd been attacked.

"You handled the meeting," is all I can think to say.

"I did. But how do you think it looked to them when you walked out halfway through? I covered for you, Pierce, but you make it look like you don't care about that."

"I don't," I scoff softly. "I care about their money."

"Which they will take back in blood because we didn't supply the product." Adrian groans and drags a hand down his face. "So tell me, who is she?"

I lock eyes with him. "No one."

"Bullshit. You don't drop stuff. Ever. Moses tells me you kneecapped some thug who hurt her. Now we've killed an entire gang who hurt her and kidnapped her daughter by accident. You really want to sit there and tell me she's no one? You've put everything at risk because of her. Don't bullshit me."

My little brother. Ever the punch of reality I never need.

"I will make this right. I'll soothe the cartel, we have another shipment coming in, and it's for them plus an extra twenty-five to make up for the delay. As for the Barsukovs… last I heard, they were locked in a territory dispute with the Italians. They won't look our way over a low-level garage."

"You think?" Adrian scoffs and drains his glass. "Or they will, because what better way to exert control over the Italians than to bring us to heel over this?"

He's right. I hate it but he's right. There's no way out of this that doesn't prevent a face-to-face with Pavel Barsukov or his cunt of a son.

"Layla," I say softly. "She's…" I pause, and Adrian looks surprised, as if he expected me to continue ignoring his request for information. "She's the only peace I have in this city. I don't need that to make sense to you, or to Moses. I don't need it to make sense to anyone. But that's what she is. She looks at me, and I get a few moments of peace from shipments, guns, rivals, territories, the cartel, and every other fucking family that wants a piece of what we have. I won't let anyone take that from me, and if that means I have to break bread with the fucking Barsukovs to keep the peace and her daughter alive then sure. I'll do it."

Adrain's brow lifts and then he huffs out a soft laugh, leaning against the table. "Shit. You really mean that."

"I do."

"Fuck. Alright. I was so ready to rip your balls off if this was just some pretty fuck you were trying to impress."

"When have I ever caused us trouble over a pretty fuck?"

Adrian's eyes narrow. "You remember Eileen?"

"Shit, I was twenty-one! That hardly counts."

"It so counts."

I roll my eyes, and we fall into an amicable discussion about how to soothe things with the cartel. Given that my walking out of the meeting early was taken as an insult, I bump the additional free stock to fifty percent to keep them happy. It's a blow to us but they're our biggest client, and the longer it takes to amend things, the tighter the noose grows. With our new plan in motion to ship in parts for faster transport, we should have peace back with the cartel within two weeks.

Adrian and I talk long into the night, with Moses joining us when it comes to discussing the Barsukovs. Reaching out to them presents itself as the only way forward, so that we can control the narrative and minimize the blow they can do to our reputation. As we're talking in a bar that emptied hours past closing, a call nearly vibrates my phone off the table.

It's from Layla's shadow.