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“How can you be so sure Dima killed him?”

“Dima took him home from the hospital, claiming he’d take care of him.” His lips twist into a sneer. “Hours later, Dima claims Yaroslav was taking a bath and accidentally drowned. Yaroslav didn’t take baths.” He slams his hand on the armrest. “No one kills my boss and gets away with it.”

“Is your plan to kill Dima?” Antonio asks, stepping around the chair to stand beside me. “Are your men planning to rebel to vindicate Yaroslav’s death?”

“Dima has a plan. He’s going to kill anyone who had unwavering loyalty to Yaroslav or questions his death. He’s already called out a hit on me because I told our men he was the one who had killed our boss,” Boris says. “If I’m going to die, I might as well take the fucker down who killed my friend, my boss, and who now sees me as next on their hit list.”

“Man, I have a love-hate relationship with rats,” Benny comments.

Boris’s head snaps in his direction, as if that’s the worst insult he’s ever been given. “This is my first time saying one negative thing about the Morozova family. My loyalty hasoutlasted two marriages. This isn’t me being a rat. It’s me getting revenge, and as an old man, I’ll get it better with you men than I will alone.”

“How do I know you’re not setting us up?” I ask, crossing my arms.

Boris exhales an exhausted sigh. “I could understand your question if I only went to you, but I’m sitting here, in front of the three cruelest Mafia families in the country. Do you think Dima wants a war with you? He wants a healthy relationship with the Marchettis.” His gaze flicks to Cristian. “Word is, he plans to reach out to you as the new Bratva boss. He wants to make deals and get you on his good side.”

Cristian shakes his head. “As much as I hate it, my son-in-law is a Lombardi. My loyalty is to him and my daughter.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “If Dima eventhinksabout having a war with the Lombardis, then it’s my war as well.”

Antonio peers at him over his shoulder. “That might be the nicest shit you’ve ever said to me, Dad.”

“You call me Dad again, and I’ll shoot a hole in your head,” Cristian comments. “I might not go to war with you, but I don’t like you.”

Antonio looks at Boris. “We’re still working on our relationship.”

“It would have helped if you hadn’t kidnapped my fucking daughter,” Cristian snaps.

“Where did he take Genesis?” I ask Boris, not interested in the Marchetti-Lombardi drama.

“Russia,” Boris replies.

“Russia?” I roar.

“What the fuck?” Benny hisses.

“That motherfucker,” Antonio mutters.

“Who takes their hostages to goddamn Russia?” Damien asks.

“A man who doesn’t see her as a hostage. He sees her as a lifetime prisoner,” Boris states.

45

“Get rid of her fucking body,”Dima tells the guy in the warehouse, pointing at Sage. “This stays between us. Tell Denis and Cindy that Sage ran off after we got Genesis.”

The man pushes himself off the wall. “Got it, boss. You want me to bury her, drop her in the Hudson, or what?”

“Bury her.” Dima steps behind me, extracting a pocketknife and opening it. “But make sure she’s cut into pieces and scattered.”

I swallow down the vomit making its way up my throat. My muscles tense when he cuts the ropes restraining my arms before doing the same with the ones on my legs.

Grabbing my elbow, he pulls me to my feet, steadying me, and leads me toward the door. I attempt to yank away from him, but he tightens his hold on me.

A black SUV is parked outside the warehouse, which is surrounded by old buildings with empty parking lots.

The second Dima’s grasp on me loosens, I make a run for it. The driver’s door opens, and the same burly man from my father’s office steps out and grabs my waist.

I cry out, beating my fist against his sweaty back as he tosses me in the SUV’s leather back seat. The windows are so darkly tinted that I can’t see out.

Dima joins me, slamming the door. His beady eyes are narrowed in my direction as he shakes his head in disapproval.