Page 67 of Angelo's Vengeance

“Norris?” Frankie understood me perfectly. She snatched up a slice of manchego. “Same. He’s a wizard. I’m not sure what my brother would have done without him, and he cooks like a dream.”

“How is Vasily still asleep?” I asked. I was making mental baby notes.

“Practice. He’s been conditioned not to mind a lot of noise.” Cora laughed. “I swear he’ll sleep through anything. Maxim insists on taking him everywhere, so the poor thing has to endure being passed around, riding in the car, and the noise. If he doesn’t sleep where he can, then it’s just too bad. So, he’s adapted.”

We all cracked up as we plopped ontostools. I grabbed my sketchbook and clicked my pen. “Okay,” I said, “wedding ideas. Frankie, you’re the newlywed. Thoughts?”

Frankie lifted her hand like a politician mid-press conference. “I mean, was my wedding a wedding? Conall basically kidnapped me and gave me no choice.” She was nothing but happy, but we all frowned. All of it was true, and I was a little mad about not getting to at least design a dress for her. It was all kinds of messed up that she got married in scrubs. “But—avoid rayon. It attracts static, cats, and regrets. Second, don’t do a ten-tier cake. Nobody needs that many tiers.”

“Noted,” I said, scribbling. “No rayon … because I use so much rayon.” I laughed. “And Cora?” I turned to her, raising a brow. “You looked like a literal goddess at your wedding. Spill.”

“I did love my dress,” she admitted sheepishly. “Maxim picked it out. I was so nervous throughout the whole thing. The service and reception are a blur, but the dress was my favorite part.”

“Well, it was beautiful. It does seem like a common theme. Everything is a blur, and inthe end, you can’t remember anything. I should probably focus on what’s important to me. The dress. Everything else will fall into place.”

We were laughing when a lowyawncame from the rocker. Baby Vasily had opinions.

“His timing is impeccable,” I said, reaching for a piece of pita.

Frankie leaned over, as he settled back into the rocker and went back to sleep sucking on the pacifier. “He’s the Commission’s cutest member.”

“I don’t know,” I said, “Maxim gets weirdly soft around babies. I think it’s the scruff.”

Cora’s smile faded a little, and she glanced toward the window, her fingers brushing Vasily’s tuft of hair, seeming to take comfort in the softness of her baby. I didn’t blame her. He was an angel. “He’s been... tense. Since the raid.”

I sobered, too. The air shifted just slightly—less hummus, more heaviness. Bringing up Carlotta was almost like one of those folktales, like saying Bloody Mary out loud. The atmosphere immediately changed. She was an absolute stain.

“Carlotta,” I said, definitively. They both nodded.

“She’s a ghost,” Frankie murmured. “Every time they think they’re close, she slithers away. It’s like she’s five steps ahead. My mother is evil.” She glanced over at me. “Nobody is sure what she’s doing or why she’s doing it—the whole thing. The kidnapping,” she clarified. “It seems like it was all a diversion.”

Cora rested her chin on her palm. “And it’s more than that. Maxim’s been trying to find Galena again. He’s worried. Really worried. I’m not sure how much Ilias has told you, Theo …” she trailed off.

I looked between them. “I haven’t heard anything. Honestly, I don’t know anything about her at all.” That made me feel a bit like a monster. The only thing I knew about her was that she was matched with my brother, but I hadn’t given it a second thought. My plate had been kind of full.

“Her mother was Alexei Volkov’s mistress. She took off when Galena was around three years old—just vanished—literally. Maxim hadn’t taken over yet, so things were still under Alexei’s control, but he didn’tcare that much to look for her or couldn’t find her. Not too long ago, Maxim decided to find Galena,” Cora hesitated.

“Because of the blood oath?” Frankie asked. “I mean, they had to be thinking in advance, right? The four of them they’d known about it for years.”

Cora bit her lip. She was pretty adorable, I had to admit. She had her funky style. I’d love it if she’d let me dress her, but I doubted she’d wear anything but jeans and a t-shirt. Even now, she wore a tattered zombie t-shirt and even more tattered jeans with holes in them. Gardening shoes rounded out her ensemble. You’d never peg her for a mafia wife in a million years. The only expensive item she wore was her wedding ring, but even that looked effortless.

“I’m sure that was most of why he looked for her,” she admitted. “But he didn’t tell her about the Volkov Bratva because she was happy. She had a normal life. Her mother had married a normal guy. Maxim just wanted her to be happy.” Her fingers went to one of the holes in her jeans, picking at a frayed thread. “Then, I guess things went to shit for her.”

“She and her mother got mugged orsomething. Maxim didn’t tell me much about it, but it was bad enough that her mother died. Then her stepdad had a heart attack a few months ago. Then she went off-grid. Conall said she’s on the run.” Frankie looked to Cora for confirmation.

“Yeah. It sounds bad. They haven’t been able to find her.” Cora nodded, looking grim.

Frankie crossed her arms. “And she doesn’t know who Ilias is, does she?”

“No,” Cora said softly. “She’s never been in this world. Not like us.”

I swallowed. There it was again. That divide. The one that used to terrify me but now just made me... fiercely protective. Of Frankie. Of Cora. Of baby Vasily. Of all of us who’d been stitched into this bloodstained tapestry through fate and family. My heart went out to Galena, the thought of her being hurt, seeing her mother injured, and losing the family she had. At the same time, I could respect Maxim for trying to keep her away from the underworld. What he had chosen made sense at the time. Still, wasn’t it the same thing? Other people deciding what was right for us?

“Do you think Carlotta’s trying to get to her?” I asked quietly.

“It’s possible.” Frankie nodded. “Or at the very least... keep her hidden. It would gut Ilias. She knows how to strike deep.”

I leaned back on the stool, exhaling. “It’s like everything is a web she’s spun.”

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