Page 64 of Sinner's Vows

“Well, fuck me. What do we know of Ivan Petrov?” I ask, homing in on the obvious adversary here. The new player I need to protect my brothers—and their wives—from.

“Hmmm…uh…” Luca starts. “I might have done a job for him a few months ago.”

“What?” Matteo barks. “Ajob?”

“Chill, dude, it was just a cyber scrub and Ivan Petrov wouldn’t know it was me…us—” Luca glances at Benedict, but Benedict only cocks his brows at him. “Yes, okay, it was my turn for one of those and only I got involved. Petrov contacted us via the dark web to scrub some videos and images of his mistress off the web, but I didn’t link him to Igor Petrov. Fuck, I thought it was all coming from Russia as everything I swiped originated from there. How many Ivan Petrovs are there on the planet anyway? Both names are the most common ones in use in a motherfucking giant land like Russia.”

“Fuck if I know, but this one’s looking to become a fucking huge pain in my ass. So he can’t trace that back to us?” Matteo asks, still rigid. “Because this type of shit comes home to roost.”

“No. Fuck, Benny, back me here,” Luca says.

“Our security is top tier, Matty,” Benedict says, slightly offended. “We routinely do a fucking deep cleanse, so?—"

"And I bet you the reason Petrov got a third party on the dark web to do the dirty work for him is because he doesn’t have the know-how in house.” Luca reaches for his coffee again, argument closed.

“That sums it up,” Benedict says with a nod. “Relax, Matty, this isn’t about whatever job Luca did. In any case, it’s not the first time one of us have been asked to do this type of shit, so just because it’s Petrov doesn’t mean he’s afterIl Consiglio.”

It’s tense for a moment as we all digest this news.

“What else do you know,” Matteo sighs. “I bet you have all the info already?”

“Yep. Not just a pretty face here,” Benedict jokes as he puts his coffee cup back on the table. “Late thirties, wife’s dead, and he’s blessed with two young daughters.”

Blessed, indeed. With a fucking migraine from hell. If Ivan Petrov took over from his dad, he is now the king of the PetrovBratva in New York and New Jersey and however far their operations stretch. But with two young daughters…blessed isn’t how I’d describe it. I’m already freaked out with wives in the mix…but kids?Girls? It’s this whole situation with Ariana and Gabriella that’s eating at me and how girls become women, and from Day One, they’re basically at risk of being hurt or being used as pawns.

“How did his wife die?” I ask.

Benedict shrugs. “Apparently, it was suicide.”

Fuck. I quirk a brow as we all shoot each other glances. When last was a death in the Bratva really suicide?

Matteo drags in a deep breath, shifting our thoughts. “Is he looking for a new wife? A mother for his girls?”

“Don’t even fucking go there, Matty,” I say, my blood heating up. “Ariana isn’t going to be your pawn in this mess I made.”

Matteo stands, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him as he’s standing next to me. “Don’t be fucking delusional that Ivan or Igor, whichever Petrov we get to fucking deal with, isn’t going to want retribution for his dead nephew, cousin, whatever. We have a woman on our hands who knows too much. You know what that means, Dominic.”

I stand, too, eye to eye with him. I know what it means. She’s either contained, or she’s dead.

“I won’t let her get married to some Russian fucker who we don’t know from a fucking bar of soap who will use her—” I break off, my voice strained as I inch back a bit, somewhat taken by surprise at my own intense feelings.

Ariana.

What the actual fuck? I need to pull back here, but Ariana…Fuck.

She’s gotten under my skin. In the time we’ve spent together, she’s actually managed to get to me, to my core. To the partI’ve been protecting like a dragon its treasure. I drag in a slow breath, battling for control in front of my brothers.

“I will not let her go to any man who is going to abuse her like Franco did.” Time to say it like it is—like it was. How we witnessed it. Lived it. “To be abused like Mom was.”

A strained silence swamps the room. Matteo’s gaze doesn’t break away from mine as everyone digests my words. Comparing Ariana’s situation with Mom’s isn’t a low blow, it’s a reality. And my trump card.

With the smallest of shrugs, Matteo concedes my point and makes his way back to the chair behind his desk. This is no longer my brother, but the Don ofIl Consigliowho is going to overrule me when he wants. And what the fuck do I do then?

“Before we get ahead of ourselves here,” he says as he sits down, “let’s make sure this Boris you killed is really Petrov’s cousin, nephew, whatever. Once we know for sure, we’ll know what to do.” Matteo sits, and his chair creaks with his weight as he leans back and looks me right in the eye. “Until then, nothing is off the cards.”

34

ARIANA

---