Page 97 of Devil's Vows
“It’s okay, I’m here,” I say, reaching for the straps and closing them over her chest. At least, this one goes over her lap and not through her legs. I’ll be there soon enough. “You’re good?” I ask just before the noise becomes unbearable, making sure she’s properly buckled in.
She nods, her eyes searching mine, seeking reassurance.
I graze my thumb softly along her jawline. “It’s going to be fine.”
I hand her the headset, turn to see if Yuri has secured thegirls, and give Milana a cursory once over. She’s used to this, having grown up in this level of luxury. I’d still bet money on her jumping out with a parachute if one was on hand.
Soon, the pilots have done all their checks and we’re up in the air. It’s beautiful and distracting, flying all along the coast. Onlookers on the beaches would think this is a pleasure ride. Rich folks looking at the fall colors from up high, in stark contrast with the vivid blue of the ocean. Here, on the inside, we all know better.
I authorize the final destination just before landing, messaging it to the Scaleras where they’re heading in the same direction by car, having opted to fly in with their jet from Boston to one of the airports on Long Island. They were on board with my demands, though were probably wondering why I’m so crazy and indecisive. I bet none of them ever had to slice the throat of their best friend before.
Our destination is a mansion perched on a cliff, one of the oldest in the area, with sea views as far as the eye can see and a wide lawn allowing us to land. It’s spectacular. It’s special. It’s as good as it’s going to get.
Once we’re on the ground, things happen fast. My security is in place, but there are men here fromIl Consiglio’sside, too. We’ve agreed onno weaponsto keep things clean, and before our arrival, the men would have done bodychecks on each other. We have the all-clear.
I’ve booked some basic services, costing a fortune befitting a last-minute wedding, but it’s paid off. A red carpet is rolled out in the big lounge with its glass walls overlooking the stretch of lawn to the cliff that drops to the ocean. I had an officiant stationed at each of the three houses, and the one here is ready to perform the service. The women and girls are in the kitchen, my sister and Gabi settling their nerves with hard liquor, no doubt there, as I wait with Yuri for the Scaleras to arrive.
“Keeping us guessing,” Matteo says when he and Luca finally walk into the house where we meet them at the door.
“Can’t be too careful nowadays.”
We briefly shake hands, but Luca is already looking around, keen to meet his bride.
“The whole thing is so fucking unorthodox, I hope you don’t plan every family gathering like this, Petrov,” Matteo grunts.
“Par for the course. For now. We’re not family yet.” And at least this isn’t a civil services back room in Boston at a dubious time of night. “Let’s get cracking.”
“Can we have a word with Gabriella first? She’s been hard to track down,” he says.
“She’s fine. You can talk afterwards.” Nobody is changing anybody’s mind last-minute.
“I suppose I can’t have a word with Milana either, before our vows?” Luca asks, sidling up to me.
“Why now? It’s a bit late in the game, isn’t it?” I say, not in the mood for this to drag on.
Luca sighs. “Is it always tit for tat with you, Petrov? Does it run in the family? More importantly, should I expect the same from your sister?”
This tit, I want to say,is the tat for killing Boryslav and five of my men, but I have some diplomacy left in my arsenal. His question is direct, which I like. “In business, yes. Similar to the Mafia.”
“But not in the family? Not when it comes to your wives, sisters? Daughters?” Luca prompts.
“No.”
“Good. Because we don’t operate like that. Business is business, family is family. There’s a sacred divide we don’t cross. We don’t treat rogue family members like we would rogue business associates.”
It’s a threat. Subtle and nuanced, but it’s there. Don’t letGabriella ‘commit suicide’ like my first wife did. I shoot Yuri a glance. How much could they really know?
“Basically, what Luca is trying to say,” Matteo adds as he squeezes my shoulder, “is that you’ve gotta loosen up, Petrov. Otherwise, this is going to get real awkward.”
He’s right. I haven’t loosened up in years, warding off Chertnikov’s onslaught, fighting for our autonomy, our business, my family, and my girls.
“Should have had drinks beforehand like normal people,” Luca mutters under his breath. “To break the ice.”
“There’ll be time enough for that later, in a week or so. I’ll bring Gabriella to Boston and check in with Milana,” I promise, sensing with relief I can’t show that the Scaleras also want a solid alliance, that more than being just business partners, they could maybe even be friends. Family. This is what I wanted, craved, and desperately need.
I return Matteo’s shoulder squeeze, mimicking his bro-stance as I nod to Yuri to fetch Milana and Gabriella. “For now, let’s close the deal.”
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