“Go home. Wait. And don’t talk to anyone about this. I’m certain the police will want to have a discussion with you, but I’ll hold them off as long as possible. Just don’t leave town again. We don’t want to give the police any cause for additional incrimination.”
I glared at Jonas, my anger swelling. “What about the damn police commissioner?”
Jonas sighed. “I’m certain he’s keeping an arm’s distance from this, at least for now. I’m still trying to schedule an appointment, but as you can imagine, he has his hands full with this.”
I hissed under my breath, forced to accept the situation. At least for now. I had other ways of dealing with this. “I have no doubt that Peter Church is behind this.”
Jonas’ eyes opened wide. “That’s a tall accusation. He has a significant number of friends in influential positions.”
“I’m well aware of that, but he’s also Solntsevskaya.”
“What? Where the hell did that come from?”
“My father.”
The consigliere darted another look around the precinct before pulling me against the wall. “Don’t go spouting that shit off. I’ll put out some feelers and see what we’re up against.”
“Peter is a direct descendant.”
“That could present a problem.”
“A cover-up.” I said the words almost casually, finally accepting that this ruse was almost too huge to tackle by myself.
“Go home. I’ll come by the house later.”
I nodded, still uneasy about every aspect of my father’s framing. I stormed out of the building, heading directly for the SUV, the reporters continuing to hound me. I could only imagine what was going to be on the six o’ clock news.
“Where we going now, boss?” Maksim asked.
“Home. I need to regroup.” I sat back in the seat, cognizant that Willow was hovering just beside me, understandably curious about what the fuck was going on. As the driver pressed down on the accelerator, the quick action forcing several of the reporters to scuttle out of the way, I cringed. My family had been played while I’d been exacting revenge in my own way. My impetuous behavior had allowed the Solntsevskayas to break alliances and threaten my business and my family.
They wouldn’t be allowed to get any closer.
“Is your father okay?” Willow asked.
I could hear the concern in her voice. “I didn’t see him. They’re in the process of interrogating him.”
“Do you believe your father had anything to do with the murder?”
“Not a chance.”
“Peter is responsible,” she half whispered.
“That remains to be seen.” While Peter was certainly a strong player, I doubted he’d handled or planned this completely on his own. One way or the other, I would find out.
She settled into the seat, her hands tightly wrung together. The day hadn’t turned out as expected.
For either one of us.
And still, there was more to tell her.
“What did you mean when you called him a Russian?” she asked.
I’d anticipated the question was coming. “I have it under good authority that he is a direct descendant of the same Bratva family determined to take over not only the Petrov realm, but New York and Chicago as well.” There was no room for keeping additional secrets. It seemed Peter currently held all the aces in our vicious game.
She sucked in her breath, blinking several times but remaining quiet. There was a hell of a lot to process.
For both of us.
I yanked out my phone, preferring not to wait to bring in help. It wasn’t something I’d ever done before, especially not in this manner, but given the circumstances, I felt I had no other choice. Lorenzo answered on the second ring. I was certain he’d already heard the news about my father.
“I expected you would call,” Lorenzo stated with no emotion. “I heard.”
“I’m certain you did. The press is going to glorify this as an end of an era. I have little time and I need your help.”
“Anything to push back against the assholes trying to take over. This Killer H has already reached Chicago. People are scared and our business is being pushed. That can’t happen.”
I rubbed my eyes before answering. “I need a certain level of protection. I also need any names that you can find. I’m certain you have people working in your organization who are loyal to the Solntsevskayas.”
“Yes, I suspected as much. You’ll get all the help I can provide. Are you calling Dominick?”
“Next on my list.”
“Stay in contact. We can’t let this thing get out of hand,” Lorenzo commented before ending the call.
He was right about that.
I made contact with Dominick, repeating the same request. Whether our combined power and influence would be enough was the question that remained. This plan of attack had been in place for months, maybe years.