Page 41 of Dark Prince

“Can’t a man just take holiday where his children are?” There’s humor in my father’s tone that’s rare. Makes me think he took a detour to sunny Florida for a little R and R before coming here. He’s here because he wants to gauge whether Alexey Kozlov is betraying us like I’ve informed him I believe. The pakhan also wants to know exactly what Dimitri Sokolov said to rattle a woman that can’t be rattled.

Domenico snatches a handgun from somewhere on his person. It happened so fast I’m late on my reaction. As he points the barrel at a now smiling Mischa Nikolayev, I brandish my own weapon, shoving it into the side of his temple. Next thing I know, Ren has the sharp tip of one of the blades he keeps stashed up the sleeve of his jacket at my throat and the other already slicing a few centimeters into my side.

The scene plays out so fast that something else happens when I blink. Sasha snatches the knife out of Ren’s hand that he has positioned at my hip, and in the next blink, my sister has it turned on Ren, pressing into his throat. The smile on his lips doesn’t go unnoticed, but I don’t have time to spend thinking what the fuck that means because Sienna has one of her blades against Sasha’s throat while yanking her head back with the strands of my sister’s hair in her fist.

“What a happy fucking family,” my father beams as he lifts his drink to his lips and takes a hefty sip with amusement still on his lips.

“I’m not playing, old man,” Dom says, his voice low and lethal. Now is not the time for my dick to get hard or the goddamn place for that matter.

Annoyed, I shove the tip of the steel barrel deeper into his temple. “You’ll put the weapon down or this ends real fast, Caputo,” I sneer at him, even though his dark eyes are still trained on my father’s.

“We’re not enemies, Dom,” my father says, his voice void of the former humor. “We’re family.”

“Yeah?” The corner of Domenico’s lips tip up, but it’s no smile on his face. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“My sweet baby girl over there with the knife to her husband’s throat made it so.” It’s almost comical how Dad emphasizes sweet baby girl in a sentence describing his own daughter. Sasha is none of those things. She certainly hasn’t been sweet to him since at least grade school when she didn’t understand the dynamics of our family. She thought the Bratva were men that were distant relatives that adored our father.

“She isn’t wearing his ring,” Dom states.

“That’s the kid’s problem, not mine.” Dad sets his empty tumbler down, then glances from Dom to the rest of us. “I meant what I said. We aren’t enemies.” Flicking his stare back to Dom, he says, “And it’s been that way for more years than any of you have been alive. If it hadn’t been for Antonio, I wouldn’t be standing here today. I’ve owed your father for a very long time.”

“You say that like you don’t anymore,” I interject into their conversation. This is news to me, and I don’t like being left in the dark. From the look on his aged face, he knows that’s exactly what I’m thinking.

“I’m paid up, Krishna, and no, it didn’t concern you. Leave it at that, son.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing back. He’s wrong. Motherfucking wrong! It was my business. Is my business. “So, Domenico, I’m here to have a word with Sasha. After I do that, I’ll be leaving. Satisfied?”

“And what is it you want to talk to my sister-in-law about? We’re all here. Say whatever it is you want to say, then leave as you said,” Dom says in too calm of a manner for him.

“It’s Bratva business, Dom. It does not concern you, just as your business doesn’t concern me.” Irritation begins to fester inside his blue eyes. His aren’t as light in color as Sasha’s and mine are. We got that from our mother. “Either pull the fucking trigger or put the weapon away so the others follow suit. Can you do that?”

Dom removes his finger from between the trigger and the trigger guard, then he pulls the handgun back, putting it away. I do the same and Ren removes his blade, but not before slicing a thin layer of skin. It stings, but nothing I haven’t experienced before. It doesn’t faze me. Sasha and Sienna both put their weapons away too. Sasha keeps Lorenzo’s knife, shoving the sharp end inside the thigh pocket on the army-green tactical pants she’s wearing.

“Fine. Have your word, then get the fuck out of this city.”

“Careful, Domenico. You aren’t the head boss yet, boy,” Dad says as Dom turns.

“Call me boy again and it won’t matter who I am. You’ll have a round too deep within your skull to care.” He steps past me, walking toward the door. “Let’s go, twins.”

When the door shuts, leaving the three of us alone outdoors, I push my empty glass toward my father. “Care to fill me up?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dad?” Sasha demands, coming to stand next to me with her arms crossed and her lips pursed.

“I do mind, Krishna. Fix your own shit, then follow the others inside. I want to speak to my daughter alone.” He flicks his gaze to my sister while I stay rooted to the ground. “You’re going to tell me exactly what Dimitri Sokolov said to you last week. Word for word, Sasha. Spill it,” he orders in his pakhan voice that leaves no room for argument.

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