Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“If she really loves you, she won’t allow her father to kill you, and if she can’t stop him, she should be happy if I kill him.”
For Remo, many things were black and white, especially where loyalty was concerned. Deep down, I hoped Dinara wouldn’t allow her father to kill me, but above all, I wanted to convince him of my feelings for his daughter.
“If Greta fell in love with an enemy, could he stop you from killing him if his love for her was true and if he tried to prove it to you by risking his life?”
“No,” Remo said without hesitation.
“Even if that meant Greta would never forgive you?”
“Greta can’t be separated from Nevio, nor should she be separated from her family. We are her safe haven. I’d never allow anyone to take that from her, not even for love.”
“Okay, maybe Greta wasn’t the best example, but Dinara doesn’t have trouble adapting to new surroundings. She loved living in camp with me.”
“But being with you still means you’re taking her away from Grigory. He lost her once before and he hasn’t forgiven himself for it yet. Allowing her to be with you means putting her at risk in enemy territory, away from his power.”
“I’ll have to give it a try,” I said imploringly.
“Do what you must, you are an adult. But tell Grigory that I’ll destroy everything he holds dear if he touches you.”
“Will do,” I said, even if I had absolutely no intention to follow through.
After my conversation with Remo, I was determined to go through with my plan. This was insanity but if that was what it took to convince Dinara and her father that we had to be together, then I’d do it.
I rented a private jet instead of taking one of the Camorra’s. If I showed up with a Camorra jet, Grigory might consider it a threatening gesture, but I wasn’t here as a Camorrista. I was here as Adamo.
A taxi took me to the Mikhailov palace. The moment I walked toward the gate and told the guard my name, he rang the alarm. Within a minute, several Bratva guards and Dima rushed down the driveway.
Dima shook his head, an incredulous expression twisting his features. The gates swung open and the guard shoved me toward Dima. I didn’t resist.
Dima grabbed my arm in a crushing grip, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “What the fuck, Falcone? Are you crazy? You must realize that even your name can’t protect you in Chicago. This isn’t Camorra land. Grigory will be pissed and kill you.”
“That’s what you’ve been waiting for, right? So this’ll be a good day for you.”
Dima shook his head, muttering something in Russian under his breath. “You are an idiot. Dinara will be devastated if something happens to you.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing her name. “Dinara and I love each other.”
Dima nodded. “I know, but Grigory won’t care. He wants Dinara in Chicago, he wants her safe. Sending her off with a Falcone isn’t something he can accept.” Dima patted me down and removed my knives and guns, and handed them over to the other guards who trained their guns on me.
“Are you alone?” Dima asked.
“Yes.”
“Usually I’d say you’re lying because it’s absolutely idiotic to come here without a backup, but I believe you. You’ve got more guts than I thought.”
Dima dragged me along the driveway toward a magnificent palace and then inside the building. It was something straight out of Russia, a palace so full of splendor that even I was awed despite having grown up in a huge mansion. The States and even the Camorra seemed light years away in this place.
“Maybe you can put in a good word for me, if you want Dinara to be happy,” I joked.
Dima gave me an amused look. “If Dinara hasn’t convinced him yet, then I definitely can’t do it. And if you think that Grigory will listen to you, then you’re the biggest fool I know.”
Dima knocked on a massive wood double-door with gilded decorations. Business seemed to be going splendidly for the Bratva.
“Come in,” a deep male voice said in Russian. I’d worked my ass off to learn the language whenever I had a moment to spare but I was still far from being fluent. But I understood enough and could even communicate on a basic level. I’d wanted to surprise Dinara with it. Now I could only hope it would appease Grigory enough to save my life.
Dima shoved open the door and led me into a vast office. I’d seen photos of Dinara’s father on the internet but this was the first time I saw him in person. He rose from his desk chair and walked around the massive piece of furniture, his expression harsh. He was a tall man and judging from the look in his eyes, he didn’t have any interest in listening to what I had to say. I was a threat in his eyes. For his daughter, for the Bratva, for his business. He wanted me gone, as far away from Dinara as possible, and that I’d showed up today, made him want to kill me.