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My nostrils flare. “I have your wife, and I’ll slit her fucking throat and mail you her body if you don’t tell me where mine is.”

“You think I give a fuck if you kill her?” Amusement floods his voice, as if they’d just added another burger to his order. “I got a hundred-grand life insurance on her I could sure use. Can you do me a favor and make sure she’ll be easily identifiable? It’ll make the process go faster.”

How the hell can any man in this world not want to kill everyone in it if their wife was in danger?

“Where’s Genesis?” I grind out. “Don’t think I’ll stop with Cindy. I’m coming for you next.”

“It’s after noon. My guess is, she’s already on her way out of the country. Now, let a man enjoy his lunch.” He ends the call.

When I attempt to call him back, he ignores the call.

I’ve never felt so useless.

As someone who usually has the upper hand, I have a headache, being in the opposite position.

I toss Cindy’s phone to the side when mine rings.

Cristian Marchetti’s name flashes on my screen.

“Marchetti,” I answer.

“I heard about Genesis,” he says, completely unemotional. “I reached out to a source and learned some information that might be helpful.”

“What’s that?”

“He claims Dima killed Yaroslav.”

“Who’s your source?”

“He’s agreed to meet with you. Come to my office at the mansion.”

Antonio rollsdown his window when we reach the Marchetti mansion gate, and the guard waves him through.

Cindy bangs in the trunk as we slowly make our way up the drive. I’ve never been to the Marchetti mansion before, but from what I’ve heard, the ground is nearly sacred to Cristian.

The three of us step out of the car and nearly sprint into the mansion. I want all the answers because the longer Genesis is gone, the harder it’ll be to find her.

Benny is waiting for us in the foyer and waves us forward. We follow him straight into an office, where Cristian is rooted behind his desk. A large family mural is behind him. As we move deeper into the room, Benny shuts the door behind him.

Two chairs sit in front of Cristian’s desk, and when I notice the bald, wrinkled man in one of them, I charge toward him.

“Whoa,” Benny says, stepping in front of me and pressing his hand to my chest.

“This motherfucker—” I thrust my finger in the air.

“Is my informant and here to help you,” Cristian states, sounding bored and reclining in his chair. “Boris, tell the manwhat he wants to know so he can find his wife, and I can get all of you out of my goddamn office.”

Boris is Yaroslav’s underboss. He was at the meeting when I made the first payment for the Genesis deal.

Benny makes sure I’m cool before stepping away, and I circle the chair to look Boris in the face.

Boris stares at me with sunken eyes. “Dima has your wife.” He settles his hands in his lap, straightening his back.

This has to be a fucking setup.

“Why are you telling me this?” I spit.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He adjusts his tie. “I was Yaroslav’s underboss for four decades. I swore an oath to him, not to his murderer.”