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Ilya nods and starts texting.

I fill up our drinks. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll stake out Sergio’s house.”

“Not tonight.”

“One person.”

He sends another text.

“But,” I say, “tomorrow I want the full stakeout. We’ll wait for him to leave and with any luck, he’ll go straight to Rocco. He’s still in town, right?”

“Oh, yeah, unofficially.”

“Well, let’s hope he goes to Rocco to discuss how to deal with me. That way it’ll be the perfect opportunity to attack them both at once. Sergio thinks I’m weak and all bluster. I don’t think he’ll be expecting this.”

“I’m coming.”

“No fucking way.”

Ilya glares at me. And he switches to Russian. “This is my problem, too. And my place is with you, Demyan. You are my brother.” He thumps his chest to show our connection. “My place is in the fight.”

“As my brother, Ilya,” I say, “I’m not letting you.”

“You—”

“I’m the boss. Your boss. And I refuse to let you risk further injury, my friend. The best help you can be is where I need you most.”

“And where’s that?”

“Here. Feeding me information.”

His mouth thins. He’s not happy. “Fine, I’ll respect that decision. But if anything happens to you, I’ll kill you myself.”

“A deal.” I pat his back.

“You don’t want to wait?”

“I don’t, and you don’t either, Ilya,” I say. “Besides, I want Rocco and Sergio dealt with now, before I marry Erin in two days.”

He raises his glass. “To a clean slate.”

I tap his glass with mine. “A new beginning.”

I hope.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

ERIN

“So, dancing?”I ask Kara and Alina. “What outfit?”

Sasha’s napping and it’s the bachelorette night. Olga’s watching TV as Sasha is curled up, snuggled next to her, his goat’s tail sticking out from under his arm.

He now also has a big plush turtle Olga got conned into getting him.

I don’t want to leave him, but I spent the last part of the afternoon with him, splashing in the pool, and now he’s out for the count.

I hold up a dress.