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“Had time for anything else? Anything fun?”

“No,” I tell him truthfully. “If I leave my work, it accumulates. I’ve worked almost all day, every day. Now, let’s handle this.”

Adrian nods far too eagerly. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

I return to the rundown district where the warehouse is located, looking for any sign of secret gunmen or anyone else. But there’s nothing except Adrian’s skittishness to make me think something is going on here. I listen to my instincts as we walk across the street together.

I should have backup with me, but that might tip Adrian off. Also, if I’m wrong – if he’s still on my side – I don’t want to risk causing a rift between us. A Don has to think of all angles.

As we walk across the empty parking lot, past broken bottles and graffiti, I find myself thinking about Sienna. Perhaps it’s the graffiti. It reminds me of her neighborhood. I quickly push her away.

I need to be savage, focused. She makes me feral, sure, but in an entirely different way. I know she’s doing well; she’s been spending time with my mother the past couple of days, even when they’re not painting. I like the fact they’re getting close.

Dammit. There I go, thinking about her again.

When we approach the entrance, I know something is wrong. Adrian bends down. “Need to tie my laces.”

I jump on him. “What the fuck?” he yells.

I seize the gun from his ankle holster and toss it to the ground, then take him by the neck and spin, using him as a human shield as three men rush from the warehouse, each of them with guns in their hands, each of them wearing full balaclavas so I can’t see their faces.

“I knew this was a trap,” I growl in Adrian’s ear.

“It’s not,” he whines. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“No?” I chuckle darkly. “Then these fine gentlemen should have no problem opening fire on us. Go ahead.” I look at the masked gunmen. “Unless you don’t want to hit Adrian, unless he lured me here. As if a pathetic plan like this would work on me.”

I take a gun from my holster, keeping one arm wrapped around Adrian, and aim it at the men.

“I’m going to make my way slowly to my car. If you shoot, you better be prepared not to miss, because I won’t.”

My suspicions are proven correct when the men don’t open fire the moment I drag Adrian toward my car. He whimpers and whines like a child, but he can’t deny the cold fact that he set this up. Otherwise, we’d both be dead.

The men halt at the edge of the parking lot, looking at each other.

“They’re waiting for you to give them orders, cousin,” I snap, shaking Adrian.

“Please,” he wheezes.

“I should shoot you on the spot for even thinking about doing this. Don’t say please.”

I’m almost at my car when one of the masked men jogs over. I keep my gun aimed at him the whole time, my grip on Adrian ironclad. From the whining noises he makes, I know I’m hurting him, but I don’t care. It’s better than he deserves.

“You let him go,” the masked man says in a Russian accent. “Or we have a gunfight. Perhaps kill you both. Let him go. Drive away.”

I grind my teeth, thinking about it. I could drag Adrian into my car and drive off without getting shot. But there’s also a chance that a bullet clips me and ends everything.

“Some friends you’ve got, cousin,” I snarl. “They’re willing to put you down.”

“I’m sorry,” Adrian moans.

“You’re only remorseful because I saw through your plan,” I snap.

“No more talking. Make a decision.”

The other two masked men still have their guns aimed in our direction. I want to snap Adrian’s neck, truthfully. Wring it and watch his body drop limply to the ground for daring to risk the safety of this city, safety I’ve worked so hard for.

I push Adrian hard, causing him to stumble toward the masked man.