Page 20 of Bratva Menace

I clicked my fingers on both hands as I shaped them into guns, pointing them at Arturo while pumping my eyebrows up and down and clicking my tongue. “That’s me.”

He gave me a deadpan look before turning back to Aleksandr. “No offense, but that’s not good enough.”

“Um, offense fucking taken,” I snapped back.

“Lukyan, be quiet,” Aleksandr ordered.

I did as he demanded, but under protest. I gave Arturo a scalding glare so the fucker knew it wasn’t over.

“I want something done now,” Arturo continued. “Nobody threatens the future mother of my children and lives.”

Illayana stared at him, making lovey-dovey eyes. I stuck a finger down my throat and gagged. She scowled at me.

“I have someone,” Arturo said, completely oblivious to Illayana and me. “He’s quick. Efficient. Lethal and discreet⁠—”

“No offense,” I mocked, giddy that I got to throw those words back in his stupid face, “but it doesn’t matter how good your guy is. Grandfather’s complex is locked up tighter than Area 51. And don’t give me any bullshit about Area 51 not being real. It is. Did you see the government just released confirmation they’ve been in contact with extraterrestrial beings⁠—”

“Lukyannnnn,” Father, Aleksandr, and Nikolai dragged out with collective sighs.

“Okay, okay, fine. We’ll circle back to that. The point is, no one can get close to the man unless he wants you to. He’s got twelve-foot concrete walls surrounding the entire complex. Motion detectors. 360-degree cameras. Round-the-clock manned sniper towers. He travels with a twelve-guard team in a state-of-the-art SUV with tinted, bulletproof windows and bulletproof tires. The only way to get to him is with a small army. Or for him to let you right through the front door.” I leaned back in my chair and spread my arms out wide, giving a dazzling smile. “That would be me.”

“You guys can’t still seriously be considering this,” Illayana interjected, her gaze whipping around the room. “I understand why you initially agreed to it, but we shouldn’t be doing a goddamn thing for that man. Let him try to send someone after me. Let him fucking try.”

Arturo’s jaw clenched. He said nothing, even though it was clear he wanted to. It looked like he’d learned from past mistakes.

“It’s a means to an end,” Drea tried to reason. “By agreeing, it gives Lukyan, your father, and Autumn a way into his complex. It gives them an opportunity they would never be afforded under normal circumstances. An opportunity to get up close and personal with Sergei without arousing suspicion.”

“But he will be suspicious. Am I the only one who can see that? He tried to force Autumn to kill Father. And when she didn’t, Grandfather sent assassins after him instead. He will have heard from his spies that they’re together. Any reasonably intelligent person would assume that meant Autumn told Father he was trying to have him killed. What’s to stop Grandfather from killing them all the minute they step through his gates?” Illayana argued.

“We’ve been over this a dozen times,” Nikolai stressed, rubbing his temples.

“Well, I want to go over it again.”

“Yes, Princess. Anything you say, Princess,” I droned.

Illayana didn’t rise to the bait, but she gave me a scathing look that promised retribution. She hated being called Princess. Her hands moved to her hips, and she stared the lot of us down. “Make it make sense because right now, the only outcome I can envision is Grandfather ordering his men to shoot Autumn and Father on sight, then holding Lukyan against his will and forcing him down that aisle to marry Anya.”

“That’s actually a pretty good plan,” I admitted. Everyone looked at me, their features somewhat exasperated. “What?” I exclaimed. “It is!”

“I don’t think that will happen, Illayana.” Autumn’s voice was soft. Kind. Understanding.

The doctor finally stopped dressing Father’s wound, and he leaned back, releasing a sigh. “I agree,” Father began. “Sergei may want to kill me, but there’s something he wants—needs—more. And that’s to save face. His reputation is the most important thing in the world to him. He’s spent his life cultivating it. Shaping it into exactly what he wants. He’ll achieve only one of two things by killing me in his home, and both options would shatter that reputation.”

Arturo cocked his head. “What are they?”

Autumn picked up a glass of water from the kitchen counter and took a sip. Before she could put it back down, Father grabbed that same glass from the bottom and downed the rest of the liquid.

“Rumors would circulate if I died on his grounds. You know how the organized crime world loves to gossip. Like a bunch of teenage girls in the schoolyard. They would assume one of two things. Someone managed to circumvent Sergei’s impenetrable security, break in, and kill me. That would be a bad look for him. Would mean someone got the better of him. And if one person managed to best him, what is to stop others from doing the same thing? The other would be that Sergei ordered my death himself. Also a bad look for him. What reason would a father have to murder his own son? Betrayal. Lack of trust. Both of which imply a loss of control on his part. And if a man like Sergei can’t keep control of his own family, who is to say his empire is any better?”

Arturo frowned, his blue-green eyes critical. “That’s paranoid thinking.”

Father shrugged. “That’s the way Sergei’s mind operates. He’s a man obsessed with how others perceive him. Sergei doesn’t measure his validation in life by the number of possessions he owns or how much money he has. He gets it from how other people view him. What they think of him. That’s why, despite the fact that we’re currently at war with each other right now, to the outsider’s eye, it looks like our bond is stronger than ever. Only the family and his men will know otherwise.”

“That’s why he’ll never withdraw his men,” Aleksandr continued. “Although he’s trying to have Father killed, Sergei could never withdraw his forces and the protection it provides because it would be perceived badly by others and leave us vulnerable.”

“And if we look weak, he looks weak,” Nikolai finished.

Something suddenly occurred to me, and it made me scoff at my grandfather’s genius. “Fuck, even those failed assassination attempts work in his favor. Yeah, he’s probably pissed no one has managed to do it yet, but think about it. The positive to that is we look bad-fucking-ass for having thwarted so many high-profile assassins.”