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I turn a glare on him but can’t stay mad when Everest’s infectious laugh raises over the music for a beat.

I turn my attention back to her in time to see her snag Brixton by the arm and drag him onto the dancefloor.

The big fucker looks so awkward and out of his element, his head towering over the rest of the dancers as he simply stands there and smiles down at her.

“She looks…lighter,” Madd says, shoving his hands into his pockets as we both stand here and watch our girl like the lovesick fuckers we are.

Oh, there’s a firestorm coming when we get home, or maybe tomorrow when she sobers up.

For now, though, I’m content to watch her and see the girl we all loved before life and time fucked everything up.

Bullshit. Life and time had nothing to do with shit. It was the fault of one person and one person only.

A wicked smile tugs at my lips. I’m man enough to admit my dick got a little hard when I watched her not only approach but stare down her father, when she looked him directly in the eye and let him know in no uncertain terms, he was a failure.

And, while I’m far from pleased that she spoke to the Pakhan on behalf of the Antoniou Family, her strength and fire…

Fuck I love her.

While I don’t have a single problem with women in leadership in the syndicate, I refuse to allow anyone to see me as weak because of my wife.

The smile begins to falter as I remember the pain in her eyes when she spoke to her mom. I mean, I’m pretty fucking pissed that the British bitch knew where she was all that time and didn’t say fuck all to anyone, but at least she didn’t mention it to her own husband. Surely, Dima would have sent someone to do what Victor failed to complete.

“Her mom goes down, too,” I mutter to Madd.

I see his head nodding in my periphery. “Fuck, yeah, she does. Fuck that bitch.”

Nah. I don’t relish killing women. None of us do. But in my eyes, she’s as guilty as her piece of shit husband. She’s complicit in the attempted murder of my wife, her own fucking daughter. That makes her guilty, and a waste of space and oxygen.

In the end, though, that will be up to Everest. I can’t imagine she’ll be all too upset about her mom dying with her dad, but in the end, we’ll leave the decision to her whether we let Ada remain breathing and be forced to marry another member of the Bratva or whether she’ll fall beside Dima.

I probably should have laid off the bourbon. But the longer Everest and Flora danced, the more I drank and watched her.

She hadn’t tried to put on a show or be sexy for anyone. She looked free. She looked happy.

And now, I’m nearly as drunk as she is.

Nearly. I’m not being carried through the house by Brix’s big ass.

Her heels are hanging from her fingertips as she nips and kisses Brixton’s neck, whispering in his ear, no doubt trying to coax him to fuck her.

Were she anyone else, I’m positive he’d turn her down. Fucking a drunk chick…nah. Can’t give consent when you’re blitzed out of your mind.

I’m not sure I can perform tonight, not with whiskey dick, and my brain is going in far too many directions to stay hard.

“Did you see his face?” she suddenly blurts out, lifting her head from Brix’s neck to look at me and Maddox over his shoulder.

“Who?” I ask as we step through the foyer and head toward the stairs.

“My dad. I really hope someone got a shot of that. Someone had to have gotten a picture of his face when you said my nameand –poof–,” she says, throwing her arms out to the sides, causing Brix to have to tighten his hold so he won’t drop her. “I appeared on the stage looking like a bride. Or an angel. Anangel bride,because I was supposed to be dead and was wearing all white.”

The longer she rambles and tries to explain her reasoning, the wider my grin grows.

Until her eyes become unfocused and her own smile falters.

“He should suffer before he dies. Like he made me suffer.” She’s sniffles. “Mom didn’t look surprised, though,” she says a little quieter.

Well, fuck. There goes the happiness and fire in her eyes.