“I said I wasn’t thirsty.” The gravelly words he spoke were meaningless. However, the message behind them was crystal clear.
Cross my wife and you cross me.
“Suit yourself. But perhaps you’ll change your mind. After all, I never offer anything to my guests without knowing its worth.” Niko’s stare hardened, but I didn’t have time for him to read between the lines. Directing my attention at the opposite end of the table, I added, “Isn’t that right, Kelly?”
“Aye,” the Irishman mumbled, his cheeks packed full of churros. “Yer a damn fine host, Carrera.”
“I am,” I agreed. “But only to allies.” Today, he’d learn that truth for the last time. “Don’t you agree, Ava?” Still holding my glass, I shifted my attention to the fuming redhead to my left. “Seeing as how Kelly, here, is your ally as well.”
The muscles in her jaw tensed. “Val, I can explain...”
“No need. Ronan has told me everything, haven’t you, amigo?”
The Irish mob boss shifted his gaze toward Ava, an uneasy wince pinching the corners of his eyes. “Ye told me she’d already confided in ye.”
“Oh, she has,” I assured him. “I just prefer my associates hear it from you.”
Clearing his throat, he set his half-eaten churro on the table. “Ava and her government contact found a traffickin’ ring runnin’ through Chicago. Figured out that bastard Carlos Cabello”—he waved a dismissive hand in the air—“Ignacio Vergara, whatever the feck his name was, set it up when he was runnin’ shipment through my port. The only thing I can figure is that his son, that bastard grandson of mine, took over after his death and has been pulling the strings from Guadalajara.”
I’d already tied him to the stake, but watching him struggle to break free from the inevitable was oddly fascinating. So, instead of letting the flame slowly build, I stoked the fire.
Sitting back, I stroked my thickening beard. “Is that right?”
Dance motherfucker.
Ava’s cat-like eyes flashed toward mine. “Val, I didn’t tell you because it didn’t involve you. Petrov had interconnected trafficking pods all over the world. Besides, I didn’t know the mudak would be here.”
Ronan’s fist slammed against the table. “Watch yer mouth!”
“Of course.” I smiled because every domino I set up was tipping in perfect sync. “Why would you? Adriana’s efforts to secure Chicago port access didn’t fit into your trade agreement with Santiago. Well, that, and you didn’t have any useful information to dangle in front of me.”
Finally, the light dawned across the Irishman’s face. Darting his eyes toward the door, he slowly rose from his chair when Brody snapped to attention on my left.
The moment his feet hit the floor, his arm lifted, his finger curled around the trigger. “Sit the fuck down,” he growled.
With the tall Texan’s gun pointed between his eyes, Ronan sank back down, his face paling.
A low click came from my right, and I didn’t have to look to know Mateo had his gun in hand as well. He’d been a wound ball of tension ever since I had him bring Ronan to Senado a half-hour ago. He didn’t dare challenge me, but he didn’t have to. His eyes held enough doubt for twenty men.
He thought I was crazy. Maybe I was.
But sanity didn’t win wars.
Besides, I was enjoying the show. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself, Ronan. But the fun isn’t over yet. I have a surprise for you.”
Before he could say anything, the metal door swung open. “Thanks for waiting, asshole.” Six sets of eyes turned to where my sister stood with hellfire in her eyes.
“Adriana,” I said, crooking a finger against my lips to mask the smirk trying to break free.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” she hissed, slamming the door and stomping across the room. Nobody said a word because frankly, no one knew what to say. The woman looked like a fucking cartoon character. Clad in a tight, strapless red dress, white beaded stilettos, and a flowing white veil pinned to the low bun at the back of her head, she looked like the featured entertainment at Satan’s bachelor party.
Also? I didn’t take fucking orders.
“What’s with the look, hermanita? Aren’t you supposed to be wearing something a little more…” I waved my hand up and down her dress. “White?”
Adriana grit her teeth. “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride in her wedding gown before the actual wedding, hermanito. I changed.” Wedging herself between Ava and Brody, she glared down at the pakhan queen. “Move.”
Ava lifted her gaze, inhaling slowly through her nose. “Excuse me?”
Son of a bitch.
“I’m sorry, was that not clear enough for you? Let me try it again in words you’ll understand. Dvigay svoyey zadnitsey. Move your ass.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“A goddamn Carrera. Now scoot the fuck down.”
“Adriana,” I warned. “Be nice.”
“I don’t have to be nice,” she hissed. “I’m the bride.” A fierce declaration that unfortunately motivated no one to “move their ass.” Catching Ava’s eye, I let my face say everything words didn’t have to. Letting out a frustrated huff, she nodded for Niko to shift down one seat, allowing her to begrudgingly appease my sister’s demands.
Adriana smirked, and after a few entertaining seconds of watching her fight with her own veil, she slumped into Ava’s vacated chair, her eyes sliding toward Ronan. “Why is he still here?”
I glared at Brody. “I thought you talked to her?”
“I did,” he bit out, irritation etched across his face. “And I told her we had it handled, but you know your sister.” Turning his attention toward his fiancée, he raised his voice with each word until he was shouting. “When she gets something in her head, you might as well be talking to the fucking wall!”
“Is somebody gonna tell me what the feck is going on here?” Every eye swung to the end of the table where Ronan still sat gripping the life out of a bottle of Don Julio.
“I’d be happy to.”
Just as quickly, every eye swung toward the Senado door.
“Ah,” I announced, retrieving my drink and sitting back in my chair. “The entertainment has arrived.”
Adriana let out a gasp. Just one solitary breath. Then his name fell out of her mouth in a quiet hush. “Cristiano.”
“Vergara, please enlighten Ms. Chernova with... What is that word...?” I snapped my fingers in mock concentration. “Oh, yes, the truth.”
He nodded, his attention settling on Ava. “You want to know why you can’t stay ahead of the Chicago ring? It’s because you’re feeding it constant intel. Why the hell do you think all shipments stopped moving out of Chicago and started going in and out of Manzanillo. He’s not trying to destroy my father’s trafficking ring; he’s running it.”
Ava sucked in a muffled breath. “Oh my God. The Mexico link.”
“He’s lying,” Ronan exploded, his chair tipping back as he stumbled to his feet. “Can’t you see that? He’s a bastard rejected by both the Sinners and his asshole father’s own cartel.”