Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1)(69)

Dominick hadn’t said one word to me since he joined us ten minutes ago. On the off chance I had misread the blatant hints that he disapproved of me at the engagement party, I couldn’t ignore it right now. I offered my hand when Gian introduced us again, and he looked at me like a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Gian tapped his fingers on the table. “So what’s the plan? They should be here in the next ten minutes and you haven’t said a single thing.”

Dominick grunted, his dark gaze glued to the front window. “We see what they want.”

“And if they push for access to our territories?”

Dominick brushed some invisible lint on his jacket. “We tell them to fuck off.”

“Nico thought I should negotiate,” Gian said. “See if we could come to terms that were mutually beneficial.”

“I’m not going to negotiate with these animals,” Dominick said, slicing his hand through the air. “They don’t have anything I want.”

“You should make that clear to Nico.” Gian folded his arms across his chest, and his chair creaked. “Because he thinks we should bend over and take it up the ass. I’m starting to think he’s lost his edge.”

The bell over the front door jingled, and my muscles pulled tighter. Gian and Dominick stood, not ready to come face to face with the man known as bloody Alix, I froze in place. My heart sounded like machine gun fire in my ears. My breath became shallow, and I felt like someone had stuffed a plastic bag down my throat.

“Evangeline,” a familiar coarse voice echoed through my ears.

I jumped out of my seat and whirled around, a huge smile splitting across my face. “Kon? What are you doing here?”

My brother looked the same, yet different. I hadn’t seen him in over three years. He’d lost the baby fat on his face. He was all sharp angles and high cheekbones. Dark tattoos peeked out of the cuffs of his shirt, stretching over his first knuckle. His light blond hair, so like my mom’s, was longer than the last time I saw him.

His pale blue eyes roamed all over me as if he didn’t believe he’d find me in one piece. “We’re checking in on you.” My brother stretched his arms wide. “Come here and give me a hug.”

I took one step forward, and Gian grabbed the back of my shirt, yanking me against his chest.

“What the hell is going on, Evie? How do you know him?”

“This is my brother, Konstantin. You know, the one in the Army. I told you about him, remember?”

“He’s not in the fucking Army. He’s in the Russian mafia, and your father is Alix fucking Trincher,” he snarled, releasing my shirt and pointing a finger across the room.

My gaze followed his finger, landing on a man hovering near the entrance. He had an arrogant sneer on his face. Deep grooves lined his forehead and the corners of his dark brown eyes. His red hair was liberally threaded with silver. His wide shoulders tapered to a slightly thickened waist.

Long-buried memories pushed to the surface. A man with bright red hair pushing me on the swing in the backyard. A thickly accented voice whispering something in my ear at bedtime. A man with my name tattooed on his forearm.

Nausea swam in my gut. My heart thumped hard, and my vision blurred. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know that man.” My voice sounded more hopeful than convincing.

Gian’s eyes narrowed and the muscle at the corner of his jaw twitched. “Don’t lie to me.” His hands dug into my shoulders. “Was this the plan all along? First, you help your dad bury your ex under a mountain of debt, then you move on to me. Tell me, what’s the favor your father’s going to want from me? Money? Blood?”

“Get your hands off my daughter.” Alix stalked forward, his nostrils flaring and his eyes burning like the pits of Hell.

Gian shoved me to this side and ripped his gun from his holster. “Back the fuck up.”

I clumsily tugged on the side of Gian’s suit. “No, Gian. Stop. Don’t do this.”

My brother lunged forward, circling his arms around Gian’s waist. Everything happened in slow motion. They tumbled backward, hitting the tiled floor with a loud oomph.

The gun skittered across the tile, stopping near my feet. One punch turned into ten until they morphed into a mass of swinging and kicking limbs. The sound of flesh hitting flesh punctuated by grunts boomed through the otherwise silent restaurant.

A scream split my lips. My knees rattled, threatening to buckle, and I leaned into the table so I didn’t fall. “Please. Please,” I said so many times I lost count.

Tony materialized from the kitchen, sinking one hand into Kon’s hair and the other into the back of his shirt, pulling him off Gian. Gian scrambled to his feet, blood dripping from his nose and his chest heaving. Tony wrangled Kon across the restaurant with his arms behind his back.