Page 107 of Ruins
I raise a hand. Luca stands down, but barely.
Instead, I move. Crossing the room in two slow steps.
I lean over the glass table, grab Warren by his tie, and yank him forward until our noses nearly touch.
My voice is low. Deadly.
“If you so much as utter another word about my wife, I will slit your throat—” I pull him closer, until I can feel his shaky exhale against my skin, “—and fuck her in your blood.”
The room is deathly silent.
I shove him back. Hard. His chair nearly tips over, his hands gripping the edge of the table to keep himself steady.
Luca and Romeo move beside me as I turn toward the door. We’re done here.
But just before I step out, I glance back, watching Warren try to shake off his rattled expression.
I smirk. “Oh, and tell Mandy I’ll be seeing her soon.” I add casually mentioning his sister.
Warren stiffens. His mask cracks—just a little.
And I savor every second of it.
We make our way to the elevator, the doors chime open before I even have a chance to press the button. Surprised, I see Olivia Baker standing there, her eyes widening as she takes in my presence.
A moment of confusion flickers across her face before she asks hesitantly, “Did I come into the wrong building?”
Without a word, Luca, Romeo, and I step into the elevator as Olivia slips out.
Just as we step out of the building, my phone buzzes—Angelo’s name flashing across the screen.
I answer. “The meeting was a bust,” I begin, but before I can say more, Angelo cuts me off.
“Meet me at the penthouse. Maksim’s here.” His tone leaves no room for argument. The line goes dead before I can respond.
I exchange a glance with Luca and Romeo. No questions need to be asked. We head straight to Angelo’s.
The penthouse elevator opens directly into Angelo’s meticulously designed world.
Black and maroon decor, stark white walls—everything placed with a precision that reflects the man himself. It’s sleek, controlled, calculated. Much like my brother.
Maksim is sprawled on one of Angelo’s plush sofas, a glass of whiskey balanced lazily on his knee. He looks up as we enter, his brows pulling together, his mouth set in a grim line. With his ridiculous colorful hair, he almost looks like a sad clown.
Across the room, Nico and Vaska sit in silence, their expressions giving nothing away, their posture is stiff, their eyes sharp, assessing.
“Finally.” Maksim exhales, standing to greet me. “Let’s get down to business.”
His gaze flicks from me to Luca and Romeo, giving each of them a respectful nod before clasping my hand in a firm shake.
Then, his grin sharpens, and with a heavy clap to my back, he adds, “Sorry for taking you away from your honeymoon, but I’m sure Kisa doesn’t mind the reprieve.”
He winks.
The heat spikes in my chest, my jaw tightening before I force it back down.
He turns, and we follow him to Angelo’s dining room, where my brother sits at the head of the table. Nico drops into the seat beside him, Vaska flanks Maksim. Scattered across the table are photographs—Gabriel Kaya and his men. A few shots of Katya and Elena.
I grab a picture of my sister, snapped as she walks past a grocery store, Riot beside her. My grip tightens around the edges. “Where did you get this?”
