51

Joshua

“It’s not Damien.”

Hearing Liam’s first words and the way he said them was a clear indication that something more substantial was wrong. “How have you made that determination?”

“Because he was gunned down outside of Miami a month ago.”

That was news I hadn’t anticipated. “You’re certain of it.”

“I have connections in the city, my friend. There is no doubt.”

“Assassination style?”

“Yes,” Liam hissed.

“If I had to venture a guess, I’d say you should look into whether or not you have an issue with the Baranov clan.”

“They’re being watched.”

“Are you certain about that?” I asked, which I could tell irritated him but at this point, I couldn’t ignore any suspicions. And after what Selena had said, the red flag remained raised.

“I am curious, Canadian. What are you getting at?”

“Perhaps you should check on the name Brandon Zimmer. See if he’s a large player in their organization. From what I understand, his sister is a defense attorney in Louisville. She would have access to information the typical person wouldn’t have.”

“Fascinating information. I will do that, although if I haven’t heard of him or his sister, I doubt he’s a major player. I just wanted you to know that whoever is targeting that woman you’ve risked everything for is the target of someone else. So you are also aware, I’ve put pressure on my people inside the Louisville Police Department. There is no evidence that the chief is anything but a straight shooter. She certainly doesn’t like our establishment very much, but there’s no sense she has a fear of losing her job.”

“Unless the mayor isn’t reelected.”

“Not likely to happen.”

“I guess we’ll see come November.”

“True, my friend. I’ll continue seeking information. Incidentally, you’re quite the celebrity now. You look damn good on camera too.” His laugh would normally have pissed me off.

“We’ll celebrate the end of my illustrious career as a movie star when I return and clear my name.”

“That will be a first and I look forward to it.”

I shoved my phone into my pocket, shaking my head. To say I enjoyed Liam’s company would have been ridiculous only two weeks before. As I stared down at the bottle of Irish whiskey I’d brought my father as a little gift, I couldn’t help my smile. It would be interesting to see if he decided to partake in a single drop. Pops always did have utter hatred for the Irish mob.

It had been a long time since I’d held a meeting at my father’s house. I preferred allowing him to enjoy his retirement without being burdened by any aspects of business. He deserved it after creating an empire. However if my father had information that he’d kept even after turning over the majority of files to my brother and me, then I couldn’t afford to wait.

And my gut told me he’d maintained a private stash of information. That was the way my father handled business, not completely able to let go.

I strode into his house, not surprised that I didn’t find him inside his office. I carefully placed the bottle in the center of his desk, laughing since I knew exactly where he’d be at this time of day. My father was nothing if not predictable. As soon as I headed to the back deck, I noticed my brother was already outside in my father’s favorite place, the massive garden he’d insisted on growing.

Seeing him in his safari hat, avoiding the sun, actually following the orders of his doctor always gave me a smile. I would have never believed he could have a green thumb. Then again, there was little Bradford James hadn’t tackled over the years. Greg noticed me first, tipping his head, the look of amusement on his face forcing me to stop short.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed gardening as well,” I told him as I sauntered closer. Here I was wearing a suit and both my brotherand father looked as if they’d stepped out ofCoastal Livingmagazine complete with their pressed polos and khaki shorts.

“You don’t know everything about me, brother,” Greg said, giving me a hard look, which was tough given the man was holding the basket so Pops could pick fruit off various vines.

“Take your jacket off and get over here and help,” Pops growled.

“Why, yes, sir.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I removed my jacket, taking the time to roll up my sleeves.

“How’s the lovely guest?” Greg asked, further teasing me.

“Settling in just fine.”

“And Christopher?”

I shook my head. “The kid adores her.”

“The news isn’t favorable, son,” Pops said. “Those bastards painted you out to be a cross between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Attila the Hun.”

“Yeah, I know. The American media system is a pain in the ass.” It was one reason I’d done everything in my power to keep Christopher’s existence a secret. The burden of being who we were often took more time than dealing with our enemies. I couldn’t have a target on his back.

“The woman is… breathtaking, however. She could make a good mother to my grandson.” He didn’t bother looking in my direction, but he certainly was holding court today, using the fact we were on his turf to remind both his sons he was the king and we’d merely been allowed to become princes in his empire.

“We shall see, Pops. I don’t mean to break up family time, but we have a situation to deal with.”

Greg chuckled. “Always business with you. You need to lighten up.”

“Not until this is over, son,” Pops answered for me. He picked up his pruning shears, starting to trim some of his beloved plants. “What do you know about the ugly situation, Joshua? I don’t like our name being dragged through the mud.”

Greg placed the basket of berries onto the garden stool, wiping his hands and grabbing his bottle of water.

“No more than you do. What I know is that the man I thought was tracking Ms. Barrios, hunting her is dead, killed assassination style. While we’ve yet to crack a jump drive, something she risked her life to obtain, she did drop a name that presented me with interest. The Baranov Bratva.”

As soon as I mentioned the name, my father reacted, bristling, which was surprising. “How did you hear that name recently?”

“It would seem they are an enemy of the Voltairs. And from your reaction, I’d say you’ve come into contact with them as well.”

Greg lifted his eyebrows as he and I looked at each other. I was shocked to see this kind of reaction, almost noticing a hint of fear in my father.

“Is there something you need to tell us, Pops?” Greg asked.

“Don’t challenge me,” he retorted.

“It’s vital I know whatever you’re holding back,” I told him. “This is a vicious game to somebody, and the players keep getting killed off one by one. That includes a loyal soldier of mine, his death on my conscience. It’s only going to continue. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You don’t need to lecture me, son. I’ve been in this rat race called hell for a long time.” He slowly turned his head in my direction.

“Then tell me what you know about them, what dealings you’ve had. I need to know what we’re up against.”

He put down his pruning shears, taking a deep breath. “You’re right in that they’re a dangerous group out of New Orleans, but before they landed themselves in the city, they attempted to make Montreal their home. Our beautiful city was their first landing after leaving their fucking mother country almost four decades ago.”

“Let me guess. You and Grandfather refused to allow them to slide into our territory.”

“You know your grandfather. He was relentless, more brutal than I could ever be. He made certain the patriarch at the time, Omar Baranov, understood that their presence wouldn’t be tolerated.”

“How did Grandpops do that?”

He sighed and as he moved toward the garden bench, sitting down, I could tell his hand was shaking. “He eliminated the man’s wife.”

Greg looked stunned. It was a story we hadn’t heard before, but it was entirely possible my brother had yet to be born, myself in infancy.

“Are you suggesting this is all about revenge?”

“That’s a possibility. Before Omar left the country, he issued a threat, one I’d never forget. He said that time had no expiration date.”

Fuck.