Page 2 of Freeing Denver
Regardless, since the accident, Vince has been talking to Denver. He called her at first to introduce himself, and said he was close with her family, the Gallaghers, and was calling on their behalf. Denver hasn’t spoken to her mother’s family since coming to the city, and though they’ve passed on their concern through others about her well-being, it wasn’t enough to reach out themselves.
Vince is the first person who appears in the archway. I wait for his grandfather to shuffle close behind—he’s over ninety now—but he doesn’t. Two of Vince’s men do, though, surveying the room, and us, with caution.
“Denver,” Vince says warmly, and to my surprise, opens his arms. “How are you feeling? How’s the shoulder?”
Taf and I exchange sharp looks. How often has she been speaking to this prick?
“Fine,” she sings, making her way over to him and air-kissing his cheeks. Vince bypasses a hug and rests his hands on her hips. On her fucking hips. I may not like the woman, but my best friend is in love with her, and if Vince touches her intimately again, I’ll remove each of his fingers. Slowly. “I’m made of tougher stuff than I look.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he says, shifting his dark brown eyes to me. He’s smartly dressed, as always, and Denver’s earlier comment has me wondering if his suit looks better than mine. “Alistair. How are things?”
“Back on track. Where’s Vincenzo Sr.?”
I have zero interest in discussing business with this little shit. Vincenzo is the man in charge.
Vince sighs softly. “My grandfather passed away this morning.”
Denver gasps. “Vince, I’m so sorry.”
“He had a good life. A long life,” Vince says, and takes Denver’s offered hand. Sympathy is warm in her expression. “He died peacefully in his sleep.”
How fucking convenient.
“I’m sure he’ll be happy that you’re taking the lead,” Denver says, brows furrowed, her smile small. “I know he was proud of you.”
And how the fuck would she know that?
Vince kisses her knuckles, and I’m about to reach for my gun in Colt’s honor when the doorbell rings again.
“I’ll get that,” I bite out, darting my gaze from Taf to Denver and back again. A silent request.
Watch her.
Alexei Volkov arrives next. He’s on the phone, talking in Russian, and almost barges by me as I open the door. He doesn’t have security, and there’s a reason for that—Alexei could take out every person in this house without breaking a sweat. He’s been preparing for his role as head of the Bratva since he was born. He loves his job, the violence it allows him to carry out, and the money he makes that he uses to spoil his six kids. It was a hard sell for Colt to get Alexei on side with us, and I really believe Colt’s family focus was what sealed that deal. While Alexei would never work in the shadows like Colt did, he respected the decision to do it.
He isn’t a big fan of me, though. He’s how I assume my mother would be if she’d bothered to stick around—looking at me with general confusion and disgust when I explain I don’t want kids, and marriage doesn’t interest me.
I wonder how he’ll like Denver. If he knew Colt and Denver were together, I’m sure Alexei would warm to her quickly, but that relationship is currently under wraps. If we want Denver to be accepted as the head of the McEwan family, people need to believe that she and Ranger are still together. He’s her only connection to the family, after all.
There’s a chance the Volkovs may need more convincing than?—
“Denver!” Alexei cries, and I reach the dining room in time to see him hugging her gently. “How are you? How’s the shoulder?”
Did a fucking bulletin go out with her health records?
“It’s fine; you’re all worrying over nothing,” Denver says, her smile so sweet I grimace.
“You survived an explosion. It’s natural for us to worry,” Alexei says, stepping back slightly to admire her outfit. “You look dressed to kill. I hope I’m not on the menu.”
Denver smiles sweetly. “You know what they say about a lioness, Alexei. If you can see her, she’s not hunting you.”
His grin makes me want to hit him. “Noted. So, where’s your husband?”
Ah, and there it is. Their sweetness for Denver is her link to Ranger.
“Running our empire back home,” she says. “Am I not good enough? You wound me.”
Vince chuckles. “You’re Teflon, Denver. I doubt words have any effect on you at all.”
