Page 46 of Heritage of Fire

This is bothering him.

I start at the top. Names appear in alphabetical order, and each page is filled with them. Successful businessmen, senators and congressmen, governors and drug dealers—all big names who are masters in dominance and ruling with influence.

My heart beats in my ears, amplified when I clench my teeth together. I suddenly understand Salvatore’s push for an alliance. This many powerful people, in one society, with the ability toeliminate our organizations with their policies or by pouring money into it?—

“Antonio thought he was using them to gather support to take over the Cosa Nostra and infiltrate the Bratva, but EV was using him,” Luka says. “Senator Hope secured money from us and facilitated ways to maintain our shipments, but in both instances, they were priming our organizations to need them. To be indebted to them. Another way to demonstrate their power. This alliance with the Cosa Nostra keeps us strong and sends a message to EV—wearen’tto be messed with.”

I pin my father with a stare, hoping he understands this marriage does more than upset Luka’s father in the grave. He stares off, seemingly paying attention to the blonde reporter on television standing in front of the Kremlin.

Then, finally, he says, “However I can be of use, please let me know.” My father stands, pausing. Waiting for approval to leave. Luka raises an eyebrow. A moment later, a sharp sigh leaves his clenched mouth.

“Dismissed.”

My father leaves the room, and I chuckle. “Can you believe he used the wordconsummate?”

Luka’s mouth twitches, and he pulls an invisible piece of dust off his suit jacket.

“No, I cannot.”

Another day passes with continued cloudy skies, and I decide to hit the gym before we all go out tonight. Yesterday, we had our meeting with our supplier, and this evening Luka is going out with some government officials. Nothing formal, just a fewfriends who have been loyal to the Bratva even while across the ocean.

Luka mentioned Luna is welcome to come, it being our last night here, and relatively low risk. Honestly, she could probably use a relaxing night out after the events of the other day.

I rack two more plates on the squat rack and dive underneath the bar. The unmistakable burn in my thighs is something I relish. Frustration and concerns leave my body with every press up.

I hiss out my next rep, mind wandering to Luna’s willingness to jump in during the car chase despite her fear. Her next to me, trying to provide help rather than panic during the situation. We collectively worked together. And she simply stepped in, something my mother would’ve never done.

With another rep, the smell of sweaty rubber fills my nose, wafting up from the floor. I modeled the warehouse gym after this one.

Surround sound allows me to play my favorite music, and the light-colored walls coupled with full wall mirrors motivate a good session.

After finishing my last set, I remove the plates from the bar and replace the rack with bumpers. Tingling up my neck prompts me to turn toward the door. Out of habit, I reach down for my weapon.

A pair of cream-colored Vans cross the gym’s threshold. Luna’s frayed jeans hug her legs, and a gray sweater hangs off her one shoulder, exposing the tantalizing olive tone of her skin. Her outfit is the exact opposite of what I would picture for a mafia princess from the Cosa Nostra. It’s low maintenance and—very Luna.

“Hey,” I huff out, snagging my water bottle from the floor and grabbing a fresh towel from the stack.

“Hi.”

Her eyes rove over my sweat-soaked shirt, and she pauses on my shoulders, her appreciative stare like a caress.What would her hands on me feel like?

I clear my throat and she jumps, eyes going wide. “Uh, sorry. Luka said we were going out tonight. What should I wear?”

“Anything is fine. It’s a fairly casual place.” I wipe down my face and leave the towel around my neck, then reach for the spray to disinfect the bench and other equipment.

When I’m finished, I move to the door, Luna still casually watching me. There are embers in her irises, reflecting off the gym’s ceiling lights. She stands there, lingering in the door frame. I slip past, barely squeezing by her tiny frame. Her breath catches in a soft sigh, the noise shooting low.Ah, hell.

“You going to get ready?” I ask. My voice sounds breathy. Must be from my workout.

“Yeah. I am,” she says. It comes out in a whisper. Her eyes ping-pong back and forth between mine, and I smirk.Luna is attracted to me.

She still isn’t moving. She drags a hand through her rich chocolate brown hair, and the movement pushes half of it into her face.

The urge to touch her is aggravating. Leaning into her jasmine scent, my face ends up only a couple inches from hers. She sucks in a sharp breath.

“You’re not moving, Moonbeam.”

Her lower lip tucks behind her top teeth and I groan internally. Forfeiting the battle to not touch her, I tuck her hair behind her ear. Small diamond studs decorate them, shimmering with every inhale she takes.

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