Russo's Pov
“You have to go,” Rocco pestered, his irritating smirk plastered on his face.
“No, I don't want to,” I replied.
“It will be fun. It's a family thing; you can take Elena and the girls along.”
“I don't want to put my family in harm's way,” I countered.
Rocco scoffed at me with an eye roll. “Your security team will be there.”
“I don't want to be taken by surprise,” I defended. We had just received word about the Albanians working with the Irish on human trafficking in Wyoming. The Asians, at this time, didn't intervene—they were like the British when they wanted to act as a balancer of power.
“It's the holiday season, and I'm sure the girls would love the idea. It's just a basketball game.”
“Where there will be a crowd,” I pointed out.
“You're being paranoid,” he said as
