I unlock the sliding balcony door and step outside. The wind nearly blows the door shut. I lean on the railing, scanning the parking lot and cars, looking for anything suspicious.
All is clear.
I call Lev, and unsurprisingly, the rat doesn’t answer. I’ll break his nose for that later.
Antonio is my next call.
He answers after one ring, not even sounding tired. “Where the hell are you?”
I rest my arm on the railing, looking down. “Chicago.”
“The fuck are you doing in Chicago?”
“I’ll explain when I’m back.”
“Where’s Liliya?”
“She’s with me.”
“Be careful with her.”
I blow out a breath. “Did Leo find anything when they picked up the Range Rover?”
“A dead asshole and a wrecked motorcycle.”
“Let me guess. Dead asshole was Russian?”
“Bingo.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“Watch your back, especially with the wife.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “For some reason, I halfway trust her.”
“That’s stupid. You don’t trust anyone. Not to mention, yourwife’sfamily told her to kill you.”
“The family that gave her to a man rumored to have helped his father kill his own mother and sister. You think she holds any loyalty to them?”
He pauses for a moment. “Let me know when you’re on your way back to New York. Don’t make it longer than another day. We don’t fucking vacation.”
We end the call, and I crack my neck before throwing my head back.
It doesn’t release the tension like I hoped it would.
My next call is to Andre.
“How’s she doing?” I ask him.
“You’re an uncle,” he says with a grin in his voice.
I smile for what feels like the first time in a long fucking time.
“She’s resting. Tired as hell.” He whistles. “My wife is a fucking trooper. I damn near fainted when the baby came, and I fucking gut men regularly.”
“I’m happy for you two.”
“Appreciate it. Stop by and visit us later.”