Page 53 of Dark Prince

SASHA

It wasn’t easy convincing my brother or Ren that Dad taking out the Canadian pakhan was all the information I knew. When it comes to lying or withholding information, always stick to your guns no matter what. I get the feeling that Domenico saw right through my bullshit.

He pisses me off, but dammit, I can’t believe how stupid I was to assume the Glock had already been racked. I know better, but all I was thinking was that I wanted to shove my fist into his smug face. Still do.

On a different note, Tony didn’t text the wrong number the other night, after all. He actually expects me to throw a bridal shower—for Sienna. What the actual fuck? I tried explaining to him that if left up to me, it would be a shit show, but that man cannot be reasoned with.

Okay, she doesn’t have any friends besides her brothers and Matteo. If anyone gets that, it’s me. If I’m honest, I’m not exactly overflowing in that area of life either. I have Krishna and Ren. Besides, friends are overrated. Keep your circle small. Less bullshit.

But me throwing a party for Sienna? I mean, Matteo’s mom would surely be a better option. I’m not even earning a C on a grading scale in the marriage department. I’m more of a D contributor. Not totally fucking up, but certainly doing a piss-poor job.

I raise my fist and knock on the white, solid wood front door. It’s Monday, and I’m back in New York for the day. I came straight here from the airport. The club is closed on Mondays, so this was my only free time to handle this and get it the fuck off my plate.

Tony can get pissed all he wants. I don’t give a rat’s ass. I didn’t want any part of this, so if he’s expecting more than the catering staff to be at this shindig, then I have to farm this thing out.

When I’m about to knock again, the door finally opens, revealing a middle-aged woman. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s in her late forties, but she looks younger. Matteo is twenty-four, so unless she had him as a teenager, then she’s at least close to mid-forties. She’s pretty with her styled brown hair that sits on her shoulder. She’s wearing tan slacks with matching tan heels and an expensive-looking blouse, whereas I look like I’m about to head to the gym in my leggings and sports bra with an open lightweight zip-up jacket.

“Hi,” I greet with a smile, laying it on nice and thick. “I’m—”

“I know who you are,” she interrupts. “Question is, why are you at my house?” She crosses her arms and purses her lips as her sculpted eyebrow arches on one side.

“Well.” I force my smile wider because if I don’t I’m likely to go off on Matteo’s mom. “Since I’ve never met you before today and my mother did teach me manners, as I was about to say, I’m Sasha Nikolayev.”

“And last I checked, I have no ties to the Russian Mob. So, kindly leave.” She goes to close the door, but I stop it with the palm of my hand. Her eyes widen with surprise, but for whatever reason, I don’t see an ounce of fear in her dark-blue gaze. What I do recognize is anger reflecting back at me, and that I can work with, prefer it even.

Pushing against the door, I step forward, crowding her until she takes a step backward. Then I walk inside. “Thanks for inviting me in, Martina. I can call you Martina, right? Thanks,” I say, not allowing her to respond as I walk past her, leaving Matteo’s mom at the door.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I decided to come see her. I didn’t give it much thought, really, but her being a bitch wasn’t it.

Walking deeper into her home, I look around, noting it’s a nice house. Cozy and warm with neutral colors. It’s not huge, but it is a two-story house that’s been renovated, I’d guess. When I locate the kitchen, I see the backyard through the window with patio furniture surrounding a firepit.

“I didn’t invite you into my home,” she says from behind me. “You have no business here, so whatever it is, I want no part of it.”

I turn around to face her. “Your son is getting married in less than two weeks.” There isn’t any surprise on her face, so Matteo has already told her, but she isn’t happy, that’s for sure. “Not a fan of your future daughter-in-law? Join the club, lady, but get over it. The wedding is happening and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Be glad it’s Sienna and not the piece of shit he created a life with.”

“Except Kennedy wasn’t in the business of killing people or getting them killed, so if you ask me—”

“I didn’t ask you.” My anger sparks. If this bitch really believes that, then she’s blind and delusional. “I told you. Sienna would have Matteo’s back. She’d protect his daughter with her life, something Kennedy never would have done, so take that cunt off whatever pedestal you have placed her on. She deserved worse than what she got, that much I’ll tell you.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like Sienna.”

“I don’t, but I’d rather have her at my back than the garbage rotting six feet under the ground. Sienna wouldn’t stab me from behind. She’d do it while our eyes were locked.”

I didn’t come here to defend my sister-in-law. What the hell is this woman’s deal? Better question is, what does she have against the Caputos? If I were a betting woman, I’d place all my money on that being the real issue. No way a sane person would want their son sidled up to the likes of anyone like Brooklyn’s mother. The best thing that ever happened to that kid was her mommy going night-night.

“Sure, sounds like you two are best friends.”

“That’s my husband’s job, not mine. I’d rather nail her in the jaw with my fist than hug her.” I let out a sigh. “But at the end of the day, she’s family.” Jesus Christ, I want to punch myself. Have I really accepted that? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Isn’t that the saying? “And she’s getting married, so I need you to throw her a bridal shower on Saturday.”

“That’s why you’re here?” Her eyes narrow and her lips look like her teeth are clamping down on them from the inside.

“Yep.”

“Then I’m sorry it was a wasted trip.”

“You’re in charge of the invitations too. FYI, it’s the twenty-first century. A text will be sufficient. It’s faster, less—”

“Are you hard of hearing or is English not your primary language?”

I spring forward like I’m about to get into an opponent’s face. She’s shorter than me; not by much but at least two inches, so I have to look down. “Bitch, you are throwing this party. You’re going to invite everyone you know and you’re going to welcome Sienna into your family like she’s the daughter you’ve always wanted or I’ll burn your fucking house down. Maybe with you in it. Am I clear?” That last part is a stretch, but I stand firm, my murderous look not changing.

“Get. Out.” Her body straightens and I swear the woman grew in height. This bitch could be badass if she wasn’t just that, a bitch. She has a backbone and I like it. I’m completely baffled why she’s against Matteo marrying Sienna.

“We’re pressed for time. I’d suggest that you get on it today. I’m expecting over the top. Sienna better have a smile on her face the entire fucking time.” I don’t know what the hell I’m expecting. I’ve never been to a bridal shower or anything like that, but it sounded good.

“I said, get out.”

“See ya Saturday, Mrs. De Salvo. Sorry, Martina, I mean.”

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