Enrage Rachel Van Dyken(ang

Enrage Eagle Elite Book 8 by Rachel Van Dyken Copyright © 2017 RACHEL VAN DYKEN This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

ENRAGE Copyright © 2017 RACHEL VAN DYKEN ISBN-13: 9780997145137 Cover Art by Jena Brignola Formatting by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication Eagle Elite Family Enrage Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Epilogue About The Author Also By Rachel Van Dyken

Dedicated to the readers who will most likely hunt me down… love you guys!

EAGLE ELITE FAMILY

AUTHOR NOTE: I’m adding this in here just in case you guys need a refresher on who belongs to each family and which couple belongs to each book. Nixon Abandonato married to Trace Alfero (Granddaughter to Frank Alfero). Nixon is the boss to the Abandonato family. (Elite/Elect) Frank Alfero married to Joyce Alfero (deceased). Boss to the Alfero Family (for now). (Elite & Enchant) Chase Abandonato married to Mil De Lange (Phoenix De Lange’s sister). Mil is the new mob

boss to the De Lange Family, one of the most hated in The Cosa Nostra. (Entice) Tex Campisi married to Mo Abandonato (Nixon’s twin sister). Tex is the capo dei capi, which basically means he’s their version of the godfather. (Elicit) Luca Nicolasi (deceased). Never married, but had a small affair with the love of his life Joyce Alfero, this produced two children. Dante and Valentina Nicolasi. (Enchant & Enrapture in the Hurt anthology) Phoenix De Lange married to Bee Campisi (Tex’s sister). He is the new boss to the Nicolasi dynasty. He knows everyone’s secrets and keeps black folders on every individual close to them, himself included. (Ember) Sergio Abandonato married to Andi Petrov (Russian mafia, deceased). Sergio was forced to

marry her for protection, and later marries his soul mate Valentina Nicolasi. (Elude, Empire) Ax Abandonato married to Amy De Lange. He’s a made man for the Abandonato Family. (Bang, Bang) Nikolai Blazik married to Maya Petrov (both Russian Mafia). He makes a brief appearance in many EE books, and is known as The Doctor. (Rip — EE spinoff) The Petrov Family is the Russian dynasty out to destroy all five Sicilian families. They have now spread from Chicago, to New York, and even Seattle.

ENRAGE

Verb: To anger, incense, infuriate, madden — to make very angry, i.e.; the man was enraged at his family for taking everything — and offering nothing but death. He lived his rage, he fed his rage, and in the end, the man fell in love with the rage, because that is what’s done when you feed the beast. It grows.

PROLOGUE

Dante THE FAMILIAR SMELL of blood invaded my nostrils as it ran down my wrists, its hot wetness fueling the anger inside. “Again,” Nixon screamed, his eyes flashed with fury, and blood caked his face. “Do it again.” So I did. And again. And again. And again.

“Finish him,” a cold voice commanded. “Give me one good reason why I should.” I didn’t recognize my own voice; it might as well have been a stranger talking for me. “I’ll give you the only reason.” A gun was held in front of my face — pointed directly at her. “Now finish him.”

CHAPTER ONE

Dante “GET

THE HELL

away from me.” I could barely

control the rage as it made my body shake. Blood dripped from my lip as I held an ice pack to my face. Everything hurt. I’d only been in Chicago a few months and in that time, I’d learned one thing. Nixon Abandonato was trying to kill me. He told me so every day. And every night when I went to sleep — I had images of all of the men who’d made similar threats

— men I’d silenced with my fists. Nixon wasn’t one of those men. He was too damn fast, calculating in every jab. Hell, even my liver hurt. The bastard had me boxing blindfolded. And when he still wasn’t satisfied, he asked the capo to rough me up… he even said please. The rest of the bosses watched while my hands were literally tied behind my back and the guy sank his fist into my stomach. “No.” The voice was small, pretty. I would have thought she was pretty if I didn’t know who she was or what she was about. When she’d first come to us, we’d all assumed she was older, the way her ex dressed her and covered her with makeup you’d think she was at least twenty-four, not so near my age. It was easier then, to ignore her, thinking she was this used, pitiful woman. A year younger than me, and already she was hard. It was the way she looked at a man — like I was the cause of all of her pain. She took a step forward. “You’re injured, I think I have some arnica that I gave the boys when they

were—” I burst out laughing — it was an ugly sound — and more blood spewed from my mouth. “Fucking arnica is going to fix this shit?” I lifted up my shirt, there wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t marred with blue, black, or my personal favorite, green, I don’t know how the hell the guys accomplished it, but they had officially turned my body into something I didn’t recognize. My mind was all I had left. Which was why they kept beating me. It was my fault. I’d begged Sergio, my twin’s scary as hell husband, and an assassin, for proper training. What I didn’t get when I’d asked was that training actually meant that they would bring me as close to death as possible and then give me just enough food, water, and rest to heal, only to do it again. I spent an entire week in a dungeon-like room, damn near starving to death. And one of the guys, it was usually Chase, would walk by and drop one Cheetos through the bars, smile, and walk off.

I wasn’t sure whom I hated most. Sergio for trying to break my spirit. Nixon for trying to break my body with his fists. Phoenix for trying to slit my throat with a knife. Chase for torturing me until I wanted to die. Mil for shooting me at point blank range and then asking me to stop my own bleeding. Tex for tying me up and pulling me behind his car. Or Frank, for breaking two of my fingers and then laughing. If that was how the mafia trained someone they actually liked, then I hated to think about what they would do to their enemy. I fought for sleep that didn’t come, and prayed that since the next day was Saturday they’d give me time to sleep rather than pulling me out of my REM cycle only to torture me again. Five minutes. Six. I relaxed. When minute seven came… The door opened.

“Wake up, buttercup.” Chase’s voice sounded so pleased that I almost grabbed my gun and pointed it at his face. “It’s time to train!” “No.” Minute eight, the lights flicked on Minute nine, and I was on my ass on the ground getting a knee pressed against my chest while Chase’s hands wrapped around my throat. “I’ll give you one chance to change your answer.” “The hell is wrong with you!” I croaked trying to shove his heavy body away. He shrugged; an easy smile hit his lips. “Haven’t had sex in two days, lucky you.” “Why, you gonna screw me?” I taunted. His fist flew across my right cheek as he heaved me to a sitting position. No fighting back. That was one of the rules. Unless they asked me to. Which meant I got the shit beat out of me ninety-nine percent of the time. “You’re not funny.” His blue eyes flashed. “Meet me in the basement, you have two minutes. If you’re late, I play Russian roulette with my

favorite pistol.” “Last time you missed.” “Last time you were early.” He grunted and stomped off.

CHAPTER TWO

El I PRETENDED TO be asleep. I always pretended to be asleep. It was what I did. I told myself that if my eyes were closed, I was safe, hidden, away from everything in the world that told me otherwise. My breath hitched in my throat as another wave of crushing anxiety washed over me. Bad enough that I was under the protection of

the Sicilian Mafia after being taken from the Russians. What was worse? I honestly think that the Sicilians liked all the violence, the house nearly buzzed with unleashed excitement over the last few weeks — when they were training Him. I didn’t say his name. Never looked in his direction. Because the one time I looked into his icy cold gaze — I felt something shift in me, something that told me that maybe I wasn’t as dead inside as I thought I was. And I needed to stay dead. Numb. I squeezed my eyes harder as the sound of running water filled the room and finally sneaked a peek when light from the Jack and Jill bathroom slithered across my floor, kissing the white duvet with its brightness, making me plaster my body back against the mattress even more. Why? Why hadn’t they let me stay in New York? I’d helped take care of my ex’s kids,

protected them from his fists — they got to stay with a new family while I was basically cast out. Like I was just as bad as he’d been. Like I was this shameful secret. Another loud noise as my body froze. “Shit.” Dante cursed and then something shattered beneath him, I wasn’t sure if it was because he tripped or because he actually liked watching himself bleed all over the white porcelain. I sucked a few tears in. I hated the loud noises. The rustling around that told me he was getting ready to go back into the training rooms with one or all of the guys. To them, he was being groomed for Italian royalty. To me? They were feeding the monster. Making it bigger. Without even realizing that he was big enough. Strong enough. Scary enough. I flinched when the light shut off. A door

opened and closed, footsteps neared my door. This was it. I knew it was only a matter of time before he saw what every other man did when he looked at me. An opportunity. I prayed and bit down onto my fist to keep from screaming when the door cracked open. Please, God no more. No more. My bruises had healed on the outside — but on the inside, I might as well be bruised, beaten, bloody beyond all recognition. My emotional bleeding wouldn’t stop until my heart stopped beating, and some days, I wished it would. Just. Stop. The door clicked shut again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Safe. But for how long? How long until I had to somehow earn my keep? Like I did with Xavier Petrov? How long before

they started beating me like he did? How long before they saw my pretty face and body and decided that I needed to show my own loyalty to the same family I ran away from? My alarm sounded next to my bed sending me sailing to the floor in a giant heap of blankets. I yelped. The door burst open. Dante gave me one look and sneered. “Can you try to keep it down? Some of us have to be up earlier than others.” I didn’t respond. But I did flip him off in my head and say a whole bunch of other things that would probably get me beaten if I whispered them out loud. He slammed the door behind him. And I relaxed as much as I possibly could against the cold wood floor while I stared out at the early Chicago sunrise. They’d freed me from a prison. Only to put me in another. Because no matter how pretty the walls were. They were still made to hold me in.

When all I wanted, all I’d ever wanted. Was to be free.

CHAPTER THREE

Dante IF LIVING WITH the Italian Mafia was Hell. Being forced to attend Eagle Elite University — was the seventh circle. My purgatory. My punishment for being born in the right family at the wrong time. When I’d first moved to Chicago to train with the five families, when I made the promise to my dead father Luca Nicolasi that I’d try — that I’d

see how I fit in this world, I never imagined it would hurt so damn much. Or that it would feed my hate beyond recognition, blinding me to the person I saw in my own reflection. The Dante Nicolasi that got off the plane six months ago was gone. And a part of me hated them for that, hated them for squashing that final piece of innocence I’d held on to with a deathlike grip. Every one of the bosses were brutal, each of them with their own expertise and dealings, each of them with their own shiny houses, shiny wives, cars, and money. They owned the world. And the world knew it. I stared down at the iron gates. Eagle Elite University. Owned by the Abandonatos. Run by. No one. That was the catch. Italian royalty no longer needed to attend the

school. The only reason for it in the beginning had been to gain intel on other families and now that all the families were playing nice, it wasn’t necessary. Until I showed up. Until it was very apparent that since the five families had withdrawn themselves from the school — that new people were forced to rise up, to lead. It didn’t matter that the money was still coming from the same place. What mattered was that the presence. The figurehead. Was gone. The Elect, or so they were called — were gone. And that left. Me. Fuck. I ran my hands through my hair, blood still caked my knuckles. I was showing up on the first day of school looking like I’d literally been run over by a truck. Maybe that was why Chase had been so relentless. He wanted people to know I was a scary son of

a bitch. He wanted people to know that even though I was blood — they wouldn’t hesitate in killing me. Beating me. Shooting at me. I was fucking limping by the time I made it through the second iron gate. It slammed behind me with such finality that I almost puked. Prison. I was in prison. My life was not my own. It never was. The chess master had moved his piece. “Remember,” Chase said before he landed another blow to my left cheek. “Peace is always more dangerous than war.” I dodged his punch and side-stepped him, bringing my elbow down on his back as he collapsed onto the cement floor. “Nice shot.” “Thanks.” I kicked him in the ribs. He grabbed my leg and tripped me against the concrete, then pulled me to my side, trapping me in an arm bar. “In war you know your enemy.”

I jerked against him. “In peace.” He released me before my arm snapped out of its socket. “You know absolute shit.” He stood and offered me his hand. “It could be a teacher, a hot girl, a friend, the janitor for shit’s sake.” I grabbed the outstretched towel. “And in my experience, it’s usually all of the above, the ones closest to you are the ones that you need to worry about, so when people ask to be your friend, you offer to gut them — when a teacher gives you an odd look you stare him back down, you answer to no one, got it?” “Got it,” I snapped. “And Dante?” “What?” Blood poured from my nose from his sucker punch as my eyes started to water, a burning sensation pulsed between my eyes… “Son of a bitch!” “Always watch your back.” He grinned. My nose still ached every time I tried to take a soothing breath. The guys joked that I was too good looking — that it would do me good to get roughed up a bit.

“Show no weakness,” I mumbled to myself as I forced my body to walk in a normal slow cadence that didn’t reveal a hint of a limp. I held my head high. My gait slow, steady. As I made it past the final gate and looked up at the sign. “Welcome new students!” “I’m going to set that sign on fire,” I muttered under my breath. “Get in line,” a deep voice said behind me. I rolled my eyes and turned. “Still creepy as always, Sergio.” He held out his hand. I hesitated than shook it. I hated him for taking my sister from me, for making her his wife, for making the perfect family. For getting her pregnant. For making life in the mafia look normal when it took my father away from me before I ever really knew him. When it made me into the monster I always knew I was. “Did you need something?” My voice was on

edge just like my body. Sergio gave me a cruel smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his gaze swept over me once, twice before he held out a backpack. “You forgot your lunch.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, peanut butter and jelly?” I jerked the black backpack away from him and glared. He smirked. “Thought you were allergic to peanut butter.” “Exactly.” His smile fell as he stepped toward me. “If I wanted you dead — you’d be dead.” “So far, best first day of school… ever,” I said in a mocking tone. “Will that be all… Dad? Or did you need something else?” It pissed him off when I commented on his age. Even though he was thirty and the rest of the guys were in their mid-twenties, it still made his eyes flash like he wanted to pick a fight. But that was the thing about Sergio; he only used his fists when he had to. No, his warfare took place either on a computer or with his mind games. “Just make sure you actually go to class.”

“I can’t believe this,” I grumbled. “Anything else?” He glanced over my head then back at me. “Make sure she stays out of trouble too.” And there it was. Seventh circle of hell? Check. Sergio Abandonato asking me to do the impossible. Double check. “No!” I barked. “Trust me she can take care of herself.” He glared. “Just because her physical wounds have healed doesn’t mean—” “It doesn’t mean what? That she’s all better now?” I refused to turn around, to see her pretty eyes and the sway of her hips. “We know nothing about her except Frank decided to save her and now she’s living with us. You were stupid enough to invite the enemy in the gates, so don’t ask me to watch out for your damn mistake!” His eyes widened and then he let out a low chuckle. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so irritated that you just shoved me in the chest.” His nostrils flared. “Twice.”

I hadn’t even realized I’d done it. “We keep our enemies close.” He shrugged. “And since I can’t find out anything about her save the fact that the Petrov family raped and abused her beyond recognition—” My chest burned. “— she stays.” “Fine,” I snapped. “But I’m not going to hold her hand.” “Something you need to get off your chest?” His smile was cruel. “Because if a girl half your size is really that intimidating…” “Hilarious. Don’t you have somewhere to be? A person to torture? Maim? Kill? Lives to destroy? Puppies to kick?” He snorted. “Your job is to get an education and show everyone in this damn university that the families are united, strong, watching every move — prove to those who hold the power that we only let them take it back for a few years. Think you can do that without getting into detention on the first day, sport?” “Did you just call me, sport?” My jaw popped, my body pulsed with the need to punch him in his

smug face and reach for the gun I knew was strapped to his back barely hidden by the black leather jacket he was wearing. “Good talk.” He patted me on the back. “Oh, and your sister wants you to come to dinner tonight.” “Tell her I have homework.” “Tell her yourself.” He put his sunglasses back on and started walking away. “See you at seven!” I growled in response just as a few laughing students walked by me, only to immediately do a double take and start whispering. Not only did I glare at each one of them, slowly making sure they knew from the way I stared that I’d not only measured them but found them wanting, but I pulled a knife out of my pocket, flicked it out letting the sunlight catch it, then shoved it in my backpack, all before sending one last look over my shoulder that said, yeah I’d stab you first, ask questions later. “Let the games begin,” I mumbled when they hurried off and all immediately began texting on their phones.

CHAPTER FOUR

El PEOPLE WERE STARING. I’d attended school for three months last year. Three months of torture. I rode with Dante every day. And every day the door slammed in my face before I could get out of the car, let alone say, “Hey, could you keep it open?” I wasn’t allowed to drive. See? Prison.

Everyone seemed so… happy around me, like they were just waiting to finish college so they could be unleashed upon the world. Like the world was waiting for them to finish so it could show them its greatness. But all I knew was pain. Darkness. Running. So when girls screamed around me, when they danced and joked, took selfies in the stupid quad, and then stared at me like I was an alien — I looked away, and tried to blend in with the trees. And when that didn’t work… I just… looked down at my feet and watched where I was going. I was living an absolute nightmare, surrounded by complete strangers who knew nothing about me and an adopted family who only took me in because they had an ounce of humanity and knew that if they didn’t, I’d most likely be killed for what I knew. Flashes of crowns invaded my vision as I stopped walking.

And the stars. Always the stars, written in ink, written in blood across marred skin, across my own. I tugged the sleeve of my white oxford shirt down and sighed as a stinging spread down my veins. I was safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. Nobody knew who I really was here — they never would. And he was dead. The monster who had touched me was dead. If only the saying wasn’t true — where you cut off one head — two often appear and I knew better than anyone that the monster I’d shared a bed with was a mere taste of what the Petrov family stood for. I started walking again, even though bile rose up in my mouth and threatened to make me puke all over the sidewalk; I kept my head down, I kept myself small. I focused on the cracks in the cement as I slowly

made my way toward the business building. And stopped when two boots moved in my line of vision. I moved to the right, the boots followed. I went left. Same thing. Finally, I lifted my head and locked gazes with ice blue, ice that burned and froze all at once, ice blue that did nothing to hide the hatred, the anger¸ the barely controlled rage — all directed at me. I lifted my chin. “El.” Dante spat my name more than said it, and slowly wrapped an arm around me. His muscles flexed like he was pissed he had to touch someone so… tarnished. “Walk with me.” People were staring. Probably more at him than me. He was a god among men. A man among silly boys who were still growing into their bodies. Dante Nicolasi was easily the most beautiful and horrible person I’d ever met in my entire life. Looking at him was physically painful and touching him — well he’d never touched me until today.

Which meant he was either going to kill me or he was using me for something. My body shuddered both with the need to get closer and the need to fight for my life and run. Was this how it was going to happen? Without the protection of the Family back at the house? With Dante by my side? Would he snap my neck? Inject something into my skin? Throw me off a building? Or just beat me into submission? And why didn’t anyone else notice the way his rage was barely kept in check? Even during family dinners he looked ready to throw a knife at someone. Dante wasn’t just angry. He was anger itself. And part of me wondered if that was all he knew. Just like all I’d known was fear. By the time we reached the building, I was shaking. “Did you need something?” My voice

came out smooth, indifferent, cold. He barked out a laugh, his nose colliding with my neck before he whispered in my ear. “I need you as a human shield.” I swallowed back the ache in my throat. “So Italian royalty lives, and the Russian whore dies?” It was out before I could stop it. Dante didn’t as much as flinch when his cruel smile dipped toward my face. “Finally admitting how you spread your legs for the enemy.” I casually reached my arms around his waist, my fingers stretched toward the knife I knew he always kept in his pocket. I used my body, went to that place I swore I’d never go to again. This was survival. Nothing more. When my body arched up toward his, his eyebrow lifted in a mocking gesture that gave me pause. “It’s in my backpack, nice try though, if I didn’t already know how much you hated me, I’d almost believe I could slam you against the wall, lift up that plaid little skirt and make you—” He stopped talking then.

I barely had time to register what was happening, before five guys very slowly made their way toward us. Talking around us stopped. Dante pulled me into him, hiding us near the shade of the building as he watched over my head. Anyone looking at us would think we were getting ready to make out rather than slit each other’s throats. “Whatever you do,” Dante breathed down my neck. “Don’t look over your shoulder.” I exhaled a shaky breath as he pulled me tighter against him, his cologne hit my nostrils making me feel weak for thinking how nice he smelled, how strong he felt, how much of a lie it really was. Talking started again. Dante slowly pushed me away just in time for one of the five guys to turn, and give him a mocking bow in front of at least a hundred people. As if Dante knew he was going to challenge him, he smirked and stepped out of the shadows — but not before shoving me back against the wall as if to say stay — and approached him.

Gasps sounded around me. “What the hell is he doing?” someone whispered. “You don’t approach them, you don’t talk to them!” I rolled my eyes. All five of the guys had stopped by then. Each of them was at least six feet in height, two had blond hair, and the other three had sandy brown hair. Sure, they were fit. But all I saw were Eagle Elite uniforms. And then one started taking off his jacket. He rolled up his sleeve, slowly, inch by inch, as if he was afraid of getting a bloodstain. And on his forearm. A crown. With three bloody stars above it.

CHAPTER FIVE

Dante “I KNOW YOU.” The guy spoke with a slight accent. “Weren’t you the charity case the Abandonatos took in last year?” I shrugged, keeping my rage in check. “Maybe. Maybe not.” “You’re new.” His brown eyes were flat, cold. “So I’ll give you a pass, but next time you speak without being spoken to, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. So hard I had tears in my eyes. The guy stiffened. “What’s your name, man?” I crossed my arms. “None of your damn business.” He spat at my feet, a bit of liquid came into contact with my boot. I sighed and stared down at the wet spot. “Those are my favorite boots,” I said in a hollow voice. “They’re original Win’s.” One of the only benefits of being close to Chase was his connections to the fashion world, and my favorite boots. “I don’t give a fuck if they have the blood of your dead whore back there.” He pointed at El. “You don’t speak unless spoken to.” One of the guys behind him snickered then said, “Apologize.” “Finally, someone’s making sense,” I muttered. “Go ahead, I’ll wait.” The guy shoved me. “He meant you, dumbass!” “Don’t. Touch. Me.” I clenched my fists. He sneered at me. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

I cracked my right thumb. Then my left. Well, so much for not getting into detention. I swung just as he ducked and tried to punch me in the stomach. I dodged his punch and kneed him in the gut then swung my backpack to the ground and started using his face as a punching bag. My knuckles split. Again. Blood mixed with sweat just like this morning. One of the other guys charged me from behind. I picked him up off my back and slammed his body into the concrete; his head fell back with a crack. Another one of the guys charged. And then it was three against one. Yeah, this was going to hurt. Searing pain hit me in the chest before I fell back against the sidewalk only to have a boot kick at my chest, down, down, down. “Stop!” A female voice sounded. The kicking continued. And then I was getting pulled to my feet by the guy who’d just been kicking me. “Tell me, did you

get the message? Don’t speak to us.” I smiled a bloody smile and went to that place, the place Chase told me only to go when I absolutely needed to prove something. To win. I cocked my head to the side, and slammed it against his, then muttered, “Message received.” The last two guys stared me down then looked at their friends and slowly helped them to their feet. “Anyone else?” I wiped the blood caking my mouth with the sleeve of my now dirty white button-down shirt just in time for El to jerk me away from the growing crowd. She wasn’t fast enough. In fact, all she did was pull me in the direction of a man who looked like he’d seen better years. He was older. Short. And agitated. “Mr. Abandonato.” The minute he said my name the place around me fell quiet. It was my introduction, so I let the fear of people around me settle in.

“He’s an Abandonato?” someone whispered. The guy groaning on the ground behind me spat, “Italian scum.” “Russian dick face,” I said under my breath. “Let’s go.” He sighed and then looked over at El. “You too, Miss—” “Petrov,” I supplied, outing her in front of everyone. One would think the dean was going to pass out. He didn’t. Instead, he paled. Yeah, I just bet he wished he’d put a shit ton of vodka in his coffee this morning.

CHAPTER SIX

Dante “THANKS FOR NOTHING,”

I said under my breath

as we walked side by side toward the admin building. El glared. “You mean for keeping your windpipe from getting crushed? You’re welcome.” I sighed. “It was part of the plan, I had it handled.” “You were letting them beat you!” “Exactly,” I said, adopting a bored tone. “Can’t

show all my cards all at once you know… every game has its strategy.” She said nothing. We took the elevator to the dean’s office just in time for his secretary to nearly run into the dean. She looked ready to puke, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her lips were pressed together in a firm line like she was about to give him some really bad news. “They’re here.” “All of them?” he asked, his voice shaking. She gave him a quick nod then looked at me and El, her expression thunderous before she sat down at her desk and started typing away on her sleek metallic MacBook Pro. “Better not keep them waiting,” he muttered, opening both of his office doors wide to reveal not just one mob boss. But all of them, including Sergio. “Shit,” Tex, the capo, shook his head and laughed. “I think you owe me twenty bucks, Serg.” Sergio glared. “I said no detention.” “To win a bet?” I argued. “You warned me no detention so you wouldn’t lose a bet? Are you

kidding me right now?” He shrugged and slapped twenty bucks into Tex’s waiting hand. Mil smirked from her spot on the couch. As the only female boss she seemed almost out of place amongst all the testosterone. Then again, I knew her heels had the poison of blowfish on the tips, so she was a nightmare in and of herself, even if she looked sweet. I turned my attention back to the dean, who seemed to be taking in the entire scene well since he hadn’t yet jumped out his window nor had a stroke. “Is there a specific reason for this… visit?” He gulped, as he ran a hand over his white hair and paced in front of his large plain brown desk, which was littered with folders and candy wrappers. Nixon was the first to speak; his cold blue eyes assessed the room and then the dean. “This is Luca’s son. I need you to make sure that he has access to everything he needs, and if he gets into trouble — naturally…” He waved a hand into the air. “Make it go away.”

The dean stopped walking and nodded his head. “Understood.” Phoenix slammed a black folder against the dean’s chest, which in our world was basically a reminder that we had not only him but also his entire family, finances — life — by the balls, and offered a cruel smile. “Record nothing, report nothing to the board, and at the end of the school year, you’ll be compensated… handsomely.” “How handsome?” the dean asked. Phoenix licked his lips and leaned in. “You mean despite allowing you to live? Was that the question?” The dean sputtered, “No, yes, I mean, yes, thank you for my life.” “You know? I don’t think anyone’s thanked me in…” He looked over his shoulder. “Damn Chase how long has it been since anyone’s thanked me?” “That guy last night thanked you.” Chase stood. “No, no.” Tex chuckled. “He was on his hands and knees begging, big difference, though it was hard to tell exactly what he was saying since I cut out his tongue.”

“I hope you froze it so you can re-attach it later.” Mil said, inspecting her nails. “Wait, you can only do that with fingers. Carry on, boys.” She looked down at her phone again. I almost rolled my eyes when Tex pulled out his knife and started tossing it in the air. “So,” Phoenix turned his attention back to the dean. “We have an… understanding, yes?” “Y-yes.” The dean’s lips trembled. “Thank you… sirs…” Mil cleared her throat. “And ma’am…” “Lady.” Chase stood and held a knife to the dean’s neck while Phoenix took a step back and smirked. “Say thank you to the lady.” “Th-thank you…” Sweat poured down his temples; the guy was a spineless idiot. I couldn’t keep my snort in. “As for you,” Phoenix turned that death like glare on me. I winced, my body remembering the kind of torture he liked to deliver. “Detention.” He smirked. “Both of you.”

The guys all started toward the door with Mil on their tail. “Oh.” Chase turned around and gave me a knowing look. “You did good.” “Huh?” I waited for one of them to say something. Nixon finally shrugged and offered an apologetic look. “You think we like torturing you? It’s for your own good, and it paid off today. Chase just gave you a compliment instead of trying to stab you in the heart, maybe next time just say thank you.” “I think I’d rather get stabbed, thanks.” I raised my middle finger and made a sweeping gesture around the room, encompassing them all in a collective flip off. Chase flipped me off right back. And the guys laughed the entire way out but not before Mil gave the dean a chilling last look that had me wondering what the hell Chase saw in her. Because when I looked at Mil. I strangely saw parts of myself. A shit ton of hate.

And a whole lot of… something else I rarely acknowledged. Fear.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dante “DETENTION.”

I ROLLED

the word around in my

mouth and tried to keep myself from making it worse by lashing out. The dean nodded for us to get a move on. El’s shoulders slumped like she was disappointed in herself. I rolled my eyes and chased down the rest of the guys as they left the building. “Wait.” Chase was the only one who turned; the rest of

the guys seemed more preoccupied with the fact that the few students that weren’t in class and were still scattered around the quad were staring them down like they were about ready to bomb the school. “What?” He put on his sunglasses and checked his phone as if he had more important things to do. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Who are those guys?” Nixon finally glanced in my direction, his face stern, his eyes cold. Tex gave me a fleeting smirk while Phoenix closed his eyes and looked up — like God actually cared what we did, how we lived, like He was watching. Mil cast her stare downward, like she was more worried about Hell than Heaven. Chase nodded his head then locked eyes with Nixon. Nixon did a small semi-circle, breathed in through his nose and closed his eyes. “It would seem, they’re the new us.” “Us.” I repeated. “Who is us?” “Two years,” was all Chase said. “All it took

was two years of our partial absence for those little shits to rise up and start whatever the hell they’re starting.” His eyes turned murderous. “Just don’t fail.” “At what?” I clenched my teeth. “That’s just it, kiddo.” Tex shrugged. It was physically painful to keep my fist from his face, to keep my expression neutral when I wanted to charge him with both fists and pull the knife from my backpack, to make his smile hurt just as much as it hurt for me not to. “We have no idea why the Petrovs are here, or what they’re doing.” “Shit.” I exhaled. “So you’re sending me… to Hell… and I don’t even know what I’m looking for?” “Sure you do.” Chase frowned. “You’re looking for a fight.” “I am,” I said in a bored voice. “I’m pretty sure I already did that and earned a shiny seat in detention.” “So…” He turned on his heel. “Keep fighting. You’ll know what you’re looking for when it finds you, trust me.”

“Could you guys be any less helpful?” I called after their disappearing forms. My only answer was laughter from all of the bosses, Mil included. “Shit.” I ran my bloodied hands through my hair and turned back toward the admin building just in time to see El walk out, and a fresh wave of anger set in. She looked afraid. I just wasn’t sure if it was fear of me or something else entirely. “Get to class.” I barked. Her only answer was to stare me down with a lifeless expression before clutching her backpack in her hand and walking off. Leaving me wondering what the fuck the guys had gotten me into. And why I suddenly felt less safe on a college campus. Than at the fists of five of the most ruthless mafia bosses in history.

CHAPTER EIGHT

El I WAS GOING to be late. I hated being late. People stared when you showed up to class with a note. I had no note. I had nothing. Mouth dry, I tried to hold my head high as I turned the knob to the door leading to my business marketing class.

It creaked open. I sucked in a breath when every head in the room turned in my direction. The professor’s face was a mask of complete boredom as he looked up from his book and finally scowled. “Hi, I’m—” “Late,” he finished with an irritated edge. He couldn’t be more than forty, with dark brown hair and dead blue eyes. “Find a seat. Now.” I gulped and quickly weaved my way around desks, finally locating an empty seat toward the back. He continued droning on in this bored tone that already had me inwardly yawning. I set my bag on the floor, pulled out my book, and froze. The guy sitting to my left was the one who had picked a fight with Dante. He leaned toward me, so close I had to keep myself from flinching or just running away. So close I could make out the strands of his wavy black hair that fell over a cut on the side of his eyebrow. Blood had dried to the corner of his mouth, a

mouth that lifted up at the corner in a mocking smile. “So.” His voice was husky. “Do they at least pay you?” I didn’t answer. Mainly because I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “Open your books to Chapter One, you’ll find the assignment in your syllabus. I’ll just be five minutes.” The professor gave the guy next to me a knowing look before he quickly left the classroom, coffee cup in hand. “That’s pretty cheap if you ask me… they won’t even pay you and they force you to go to school on top of it?” He grunted, then stood, his chair scraping across the floor making my ears ring. He swaggered toward the front of the class and stood. Everyone seemed to lean in. I held my breath and watched. Slowly, he rolled up the white sleeves of his shirt, leaning back against the teacher’s desk as if he owned it. His muscled forearms flexed as he gripped the

edge of the wood then hopped backward into a sitting position, all casual, like this was normal, like students always took control of college classrooms. My anxious gaze darted around the room. Nobody moved. So I didn’t either. “Try outs.” He said the two words slowly like he was waiting for them to sink in as a ripple of excitement filled the room. “Will be tonight at midnight, at The Spot… remember, if you fight and lose you’re out, if you fight and win…” As his voice trailed off, he spread his hands, palms up and gave a casual shrug. One of the guys in front of me rubbed his hands together. “Been training all summer.” His friend made a face. “Training doesn’t do shit if they kill you.” “That was one time, and it was a freak accident. Plus the kid was asking for it and didn’t know when to shut his mouth.” “Kind of like that guy this morning.” He shuddered. “It’s like he wants to die.” I glanced back to the front of the classroom my

eyes slammed into his cold depths. Soulless. They were soulless, and locked onto me in a way that said he’d bargained with the devil a long time ago. And lost. “Midnight,” he repeated with finality. “Oh, and welcome back everyone, summer was so… incredibly, dull without you.” The class broke into cheers as he made his way back to his seat next me, sauntered was more like it. The professor walked in the minute the crazy guy’s ass touched the seat next to mine and then he was leaning in again. “So, if they don’t pay you… does that mean you’re free?” I gritted my teeth and flashed him a glare. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” A cocky grin spread across his face. I’d probably find him attractive if I wasn’t so worried that he was going to pull a knife on me at any given moment, or worse, just embarrass me, make me cry. I had a long list of things that I wanted to accomplish that school year. Survival was at the top, right along with a nice

heavy cloak of invisibility. “Nobody takes what’s ours and lives to talk about it.” His hand jerked out, strong fingers dug into my forearm. Directly onto the tattoo that had been etched there despite my screams of pain. Despite the kicking. Clawing. Fighting. Drawn with such burning slowness that I’d almost passed out a number of times. I inwardly flinched, clenched my teeth, and met his stare. I’d seen eyes like that before. Eyes of a monster. Eyes of the one who’d tried to wreck me. And I knew what the monster wanted, what it fed on. Weakness. So I stared back, without blinking, tilting my head in that bored amusement I knew would piss him off. His fingers let up just enough for me to jerk my

arm back. “You belong to us,” he hissed under his breath. “And we don’t share.”

CHAPTER NINE

Dante I SKIPPED CLASS. Something told me that what I needed to learn about the school sure as hell wasn’t going to just magically appear during chemistry. So far, I was a half a day in. And found I actually preferred getting tortured by all five of the guys. I was ready to beg for starvation by the end of the day.

Nobody would look at me. Girls would stare only to glance down and whisper in those fucking giggles that set my blood boiling. I waited for El outside her class. I was her ride. And even though most days I wanted to ignore her existence, I at least still had one shred of human decency, enough to recognize that if she walked in the shitty boots she was wearing she’d most likely sprain her ankle. The door to the business building surged open. Kids. Because that was what they were, piled out, laughing, raising their phones, tweeting whatever the hell they tweeted when they assumed the world was their oyster. It made me sick. Pissed. Agitated. I’d never fit into that life — even back in New York everything had been a ruse to keep my sister in the dark. Hell, I’d even gone as far as to practice

my smile in the mirror, relaxing the muscles around my mouth. The perfect liar. That’s what I was. Because ever since my sixth birthday when I found out my family was shit deep in the mafia that was what I’d been living. A fucking lie. El finally appeared, her dark hair a curtain across her face as she hurried past the crowds. A guy chased after her. I rolled my eyes. Wow, and on the first day. Her scars were gone. Any idiot with two eyes could see she was gorgeous and she knew it, that was why she always met my stare with a challenging one of her own. She knew she had power — and that the only way to wield it was her body. Once a Petrov, always a Petrov. I hated the Russians for having a hand in killing my father. Almost as much as I hated El for sleeping with one of their bosses before Frank ripped his throat

out. The guy stalked after her. She picked up her pace, her eyes darting from left to right, finally landing on me. It was a plea, the look she had on her face. And while I wanted to turn around and head in the opposite direction, I knew that if I didn’t come back with her it would probably cause more issues than I was ready to deal with. Plus, I reminded myself that I cared enough not to make her walk five miles. I pushed off the tree and slowly approached. The guy chasing her was one of the ones who’d tried to kick my ass only to discover that he wasn’t the only one with training. Who were those guys? “They’re the new us,” Nixon had said. Bosses? Russians? Murderers? I had no time to process anything before El was launching herself into my arms, her body pressed against mine so hard that I stumbled backward, and then her lips grazed my mouth. I was too stunned to push her away.

Too confused and immediately hard up to do anything but kiss her back, and when the guy stopped walking, when his face turned from passive to murderous, I gave him the finger behind her back and twirled her in my arms, pressing her up against the tree so hard she let out a yelp. My hands dove into her hair. Her mouth met me kiss for kiss, possession for possession. And I kept track. Of the favors I gave her while he watched. She was shaking. Her frail body weak and cold. He cursed. I turned. “Any questions?” He tilted his head, a cruel smile plastered across his face. “She’s not yours for long… Nicolasi.” I felt my entire body stiffen. As far as anyone knew, I was Nixon’s long-lost cousin, an Abandonato. The name Nicolasi hadn’t been whispered out loud to me in years. So. Many. Damn. Years.

Even my own sister shied away from it. She knew I was quick to punch my way through walls. Because it triggered something deep inside, something that made me want to kill, something dark that scared me, that made me see nothing but rage. So when I saw his back. I acted. Quickly grabbing my knife from the shitty backpack Sergio had given me, I threw it at his Russian ass. He stumbled forward and collapsed. I took a few steps toward him as he cried out in pain. Red blood made a small mark where the knife had entered. I smiled, bent over and shoved it in further, much to the horrified cries around me. “Turn your back on me again, and this—” I pushed further. “—is going to be your fucking throat, got me?” He winced, cursing in Russian, just as someone started to clap, one, two, three times.

The four guys stood over me as I shoved the knife deeper into their dickhead friend’s back. “We did not think you had it in you,” one of them said in a practiced American accent. “And here you are, ready to kill — for her.” “Not for her,” I spat. “For me.” His eyes lit up. “Even better. I’m Vas.” I didn’t take his outstretched hand. Instead, I jerked the knife from his friend’s back and stood. “Don’t care.” “You like a good fight,” he said once I’d taken a step away from him and the guys surrounding him. A crowd started to form. I hung my head as the need to punch something or someone pulsed in my veins. “Ah, I can smell it on you… tell me, do you like… to bleed?” I closed my eyes. I’d promised. I’d promised her never again. I’d promised no fighting. I’d promised. Chicago was a fresh start. A new start.

But I salivated at the thought… Of fresh blood on my knuckles, of the sound of flesh tearing open, bone against bone. “Midnight,” he dropped casually. Something was thrust into my right hand, the one without the knife. I stood there. Swaying in the wind. Feeling like nothing but a failure. Because it wasn’t El I was thinking of. Or my sister. Or the family I swore to serve. It wasn’t any of them that I was thinking of. It was me. And only me. And the fact that it had been too long since I’d tasted blood. When I opened my eyes, I expected fear. I expected El to be horrified, to look away in disgust to try to reprimand me like my sister would. Instead, she sighed heavily and said, “I’ll cover for you.” “Why?” My voice was hoarse with emotion that

sure as hell didn’t belong in any cell of my body. Emotion got you killed. Emotion had never done me any favors. “Because.” She licked her lips, a flush spread across her cheeks. “That’s what friends do.” “We aren’t friends.” “That’s my condition.” Her chin lifted in defiance. “Friendship for lies.” “I don’t need your lies or your friendship.” She was quiet before her hand closed over mine, as she tugged the knife free and wiped it on the inside of her skirt and very carefully closed it and placed it in my backpack on the grass. “That’s where you’re wrong. I think you need both… more than you’ll ever know.” “I can’t trust you.” “I never said trust was a condition.” We stared each other down. I hated looking at her, hated recognizing her beauty. It was why I tried not to focus on her mouth, her eyes; instead I stared at her forehead like it was going to give me answers. The only hint that she was bluffing, that she was trying her best to be strong, was the slight

crease in her brow, and the way that, when I did glance at her mouth, she sucked in her bottom lip only to release it when she realized it was a tell. “You’re afraid,” I finally said. She hung her head and whispered, “Friendship for lies. What will it be?” I swung my backpack over my shoulder and pulled the keys for the Mercedes out of my pocket. “Let me think about it.” We drove in silence the entire way home.

CHAPTER TEN

El I

COULD SMELL

the blood on my skirt. It was

metallic, burned my nostrils, made me feel dirty. By the time we made it home I was already mentally stripping away all of my clothes, imagining a life where blood wasn’t a normal part of my existence. Where I didn’t have to be strong. Where I was allowed to feel something other than fear. I’d kissed him.

I shouldn’t have. I’d had no other choice. I’d had to prove that I belonged to someone — something. If there was anything the mafia had taught me, it was that when you belonged to blood you were protected by it. And I’d never been in such dire need of protection in my entire life, even if it meant I was exchanging one monster for another. “How was school?” Chase smirked at us the minute we waltzed into the house. I opened my mouth. Dante slapped a hand over it and shrugged casually. “Homework, when’s dinner?” “Do I look like your bitch?” Chase’s eyebrows rose. “No, you just make pasta like one,” Nixon said sweeping into the room, his smug grin firmly in place. “But seriously, Chase, what’s for dinner?” I didn’t know how to deal with these people. With their easy teasing. It was equal parts laughter.

Equal parts violence. I was always confused. Never prepared for either. Before I could respond to the fact that Nixon was tossing an apron at Chase while Mil popped open a wine bottle and Trace, Nixon’s wife brought a baby for Nixon to kiss. On the face. Like he didn’t have multiple kills on his hands. Dante had jerked me down the hall. And into his bedroom. A place I’d never been. I was always on the other side. Living in fear of the three hundred square foot bathroom that separated us, always watching, waiting, for him to pounce. For anyone to see what Petrov had seen. And take. The door closed with a dull thud. Dante flicked on the lights and fan then very slowly started stripping out of his T-shirt. It was happening. I tried to calm my nerves.

The sickness that spread throughout my stomach, because no matter how good-looking he was, I was going to be another chess piece in a game I had never asked to play. In a game I would never win. He faced me. “They see blood anywhere and they’re going to ask questions, especially if it’s not yours or mine.” I froze, my hands were dead at my side. He scowled. “El, you need to take off your skirt so I can wash it, I’ll shower after so they don’t suspect anything, but we can’t just toss it into the hamper.” Stunned, I just stared. And then he was reaching for me. I jerked back. He winced as a muscle popped in his jaw. “I only like the willing.” It was my turn to flinch. “The skirt.” He held out his hands. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all, if it makes you feel better I can turn around, but the longer we’re in here doing homework the more they’re going to suspect

something, so if you want to be my friend, if you want this to work, you have to suck it up and make a sacrifice — compromise.” With a slow nod, I unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor. True to his word, his eyes only focused on the material, not my legs, ass, or anything else. Not even the scar that still marred my thigh. Or the ugly stitches that were still healing with it. “Hey, Dante?” Chase pounded on the door. “I know you said you were doing homework, but I heard the shower turn on, can I talk with you—” The knob turned. Dante cursed and shoved me into the shower clothes and everything, then hopped in to join me, jerking the curtain closed just in time for Chase to walk in. Dante blocked my body with his. “Is this prison? Do I have no privacy?” Chase laughed. “Nope. Never. Welcome to the family.” Dante sagged against me.

And I let him. For the first time in a long time, the heaviness of a man’s body didn’t feel suffocating — it felt — protective. I kept my arms pinned at my sides as he breathed out a curse. “Chase, I’ll be done in a minute.” “I was twenty once, I know what long showers are all about.” Dante smirked. “You do realize you’re like three years older than me, right? You’re not old, Chase.” Chase was quiet and then. “Wouldn’t get too comfortable in there, we have thirty minutes of boxing before dinner.” “Since when?” Dante roared, slamming his hand near my head. I winced. He sent me an apologetic look. “Since I need to blow off some steam,” Chase raged. “Can’t you beat the shit out of someone else?” “Nope, you’re my new favorite.” “Lucky me.”

“Glad you see it my way.” Chase chuckled. “Oh, and when you see El again tell her Frank’s looking for her.” “Yup.” Dante sucked in another breath as steam billowed around us. The door clicked shut. Dante and I locked eyes. He was beautiful. The type of man that was bad for you, the kind that I knew I would never be able to trust, because he was able to be whoever you needed him to be. In the moment. And I’d known a guy like the once. He’d promised me everything. And I’d believed him. Because he told me he’d keep me safe. He’d lied. I had believed all the pretty lies because of the package, but when it counted, I suffered for it. My only job had been to live. To survive. I wouldn’t fail again. Dante’s eyes raked over me, his half-lidded

glance told me everything I needed to know. “Why?” his eyes searched. “Why what?” My weak voice betrayed me. “You could have hugged me. Why kiss someone you hate?” I sidestepped him, our arms brushed, my body shivered. “Why kiss them back?” The first smile I’d seen on his face appeared, like he was letting me see behind the cool chilly mask he liked to wear. I sucked in a breath and nearly fell back against the curtain. No man had any right to be that beautiful. Or haunting. “Because,” he whispered gruffly, “it felt good.” I wasn’t expecting that. Or the way his eyes darted to my mouth before quickly looking above my head like the tile was more interesting than anything I had to offer. “Play with fire…” he said in a low voice. “Don’t kiss me again.” I tried not to react, but something about Dante always made it… difficult, like I wasn’t physically

capable of putting on the armor I was so used to wearing in order to survive. I bit down on my lip, buying time to gather my thoughts, if I reacted to him, he’d see I was weak, if I did nothing he’d think I was stupid, and if I flirted with him, he’d call me on my bullshit. The only choice I had was to give him a slow nod of my head, making sure he understood that there was nothing he had that I wanted. We might as well be brother and sister. “Friends don’t kiss,” I finally said. “And I’m sorry.” And I was, I really was. “The truth?” He finally looked down at me again as his icy eyes swirled with intensity. “Tell me the truth.” I opened my mouth, and then closed it. He tilted my chin toward him with nothing but his right hand, one finger, his pointer finger, and I was already feeling an awakening pulse through my body. This was wrong. All wrong. I hated men.

Right? Men were the reason I was in that damn shower. They promised to protect. To save. They killed. “The truth,” he said again, his eyes raking me over as if I was being interrogated, and if I answered wrong I’d suffer for it. I gulped then met his stare. “I was afraid.” “Of what?” his mouth was so close, I memorized the way his lips slid together like he was waiting for bad news. I measured the seconds by my heavy breathing and finally said, “Everything.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dante THE FEARFUL LOOK

in El’s eyes haunted me the

entire way to my twin Val’shouse. And when it became unnervingly clear that Chase was suspicious about my homework — considering it was only the second time I’d even mentioned it — he decided it would be best if he joined in on dinner at my sister’s. This was, of course, delivered in typical Chase form, after clipping me in the chin at the end of our

sparring session. I tried not to touch the already bruising skin as I scowled across the table at him. Chase had said he needed to blow off steam. Which basically translated as, don’t fight back until I tell you it’s allowed. And wouldn’t you know? He never asked me to fight back. So I defended myself and let him hit. His cold eyes met mine briefly before shuttering. Normally this would be a point where he’d crack a joke, or say something inappropriate that would call out all the tension swirling around the dinner table. Instead, he drank more wine and leaned back in his chair like it wasn’t awkward as hell that I was sitting between my sister and her new husband. Literally in between them. She had to know it made me want to crawl out of my skin, the fact that the guy who touched her, who killed without blinking was sitting to my left and my innocent young sister was sitting to my right, all easy smiles with stars in her eyes, like

Sergio Abandonato was fucking responsible for the moon being hung in the sky at the exact angle she preferred. “So…” Val elbowed me and reached for another piece of bread. Everything had shifted between us the day I confessed to knowing about our family, our heritage, the day I confessed to the lie I’d been living in order to protect her. A chasm had fractured between us and then when she’d gone and married into the family, it had grown until I barely recognized what we’d been before all the shit hit the fan. We used to be close. Now I was uncomfortable in the same room as them. And that fed the anger, because I hated that they had taken one more thing from me that I didn’t even realize I was at the risk of losing before it was too late. “How are classes?” “How. Are. Classes.” I repeated in a surly voice. “It’s been one day, Val.” Sergio cleared his throat on the other side of me.

I dropped my fork onto my plate and leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’re good, Val.” Sergio put another piece of bread on my plate, followed by another. “Eat.” Chase snickered across from me, still not eating a damn thing, but drink he did. I was ready to steal the bottle from him and make a run for it. “Good!” She sounded so damn hopeful, I felt guilty. “Do you think you’re going to declare a major—” I groaned at about the same minute Chase’s eyebrows lifted. He scooted a glass of wine across the table. I shook my head no, and his look seemed to say, your loss. “Val,” I started, and Sergio gave me a murderous look that I was one hundred percent certain he’d follow through on if I lost my temper again. Last time I’d broken dishes. This time, well this time I showed up after having gotten the shit beat out of me, so I was more… calm. I mentally thanked Chase for that. “I’m not going to major in anything other than business, you know that.”

She frowned down at her plate. “You used to draw.” I fucking froze. Chase looked away while Sergio went completely still. “That was a lifetime ago, Val,” I murmured. “You know that’s not really a choice, not anymore.” Val’s expression darkened. “It could be.” “That’s not my reality, Val, you know that.” “That’s because you’re just letting everyone choose for you!” she yelled. I rarely heard my sister raise her voice. Stunned, I watched her with a shuttered expression. “You don’t have to do this!” She threw her hands up, and her dark hair whipped around her sharp jaw. “You have a choice!” “You mean like you did?” I glared at her. “Don’t sit there and tell me I have a choice, when you would have done — and did do the exact same thing. The choice was taken from us the minute we were born and claimed as Nicolasi blood.” “But—”

“Enough!” I slammed my fists onto the table causing Chase’s empty wine glass to rattle and then tip over. He grinned across at me. “How many dishes is that now, Sergio?” He tilted his head with amusement. “Six? Seven?” “Thirteen,” Sergio said in a bored tone. “But I think I’ll stop keeping track.” “Sorry,” I muttered. Tears filled Val’s eyes. “Let’s just sit and have a nice family dinner.” I snorted. I couldn’t help it, only to wince in pain as something sharp edged into my left thigh. I didn’t look at Sergio, didn’t have to, to know a blade was making its way centimeter by centimeter past the roughness of my jeans and into the skin of my thigh. With a bored expression, I used my left hand to quickly flip open my own blade and hover it over his dick. “God I love family dinners.” Chase laughed. “Touché.” Sergio pulled the blade back. I did the same.

Val groaned into her hands at about the same time Chase said, “Hey, Val you made cannoli, right?” “Don’t you have a wife for that?” Val fired back with a laugh. Chase’s eyes darted back to his wine glass. “I think it would be extremely generous to use the word cook and Mil in the same sentence. I get my calories from drinking.” He polished off the bottle. I narrowed my eyes. Sergio’s hands were under the table, but he pointed a finger at Chase, then tapped me on the thigh. And started using sign language, neither of us flinching as Val and Chase started arguing about cannoli recipes. “Something’s off.” Sergio signed. “He’s been on edge.” I signed right back. “I let him beat the shit out of me, though before dinner, you’re welcome.” “Mil? Where is she?” I tried to think back to the last time I’d seen her.

It had been that afternoon, but she hadn’t been at the house. “Not sure.” “I’ll get Phoenix on it.” “Why not Nixon?” “Too close. Too emotional. Chase and Nixon are… like brothers. No, no emotions.” “Cold soulless bastard,” I signed. He gave me the middle finger, and then said, “Thanks.” I reached for a piece of bread just as Chase glanced over at us with a comical expression on his face. “Val thinks her lasagna’s better.” Sergio shrugged. “Her lasagna’s… delicious.” “Nope.” I stood. “I’m going… anywhere else.” Chase’s laughter floated down the hall as I went in search of a bathroom I could hide in. Five minutes. I just needed five minutes to breathe. Once the door was locked behind me, I checked my phone, it was close to seven. With steady fingers, I jerked the wad of paper out of my hand and read it. Midnight. The Spot. No cell phones.

CHAPTER TWELVE

El “YOU

ARE… ADAPTING?”

Frank swirled the

cognac in his glass; the amberish-red liquid pooled like fresh blood. Frank Alfero was an enigma. He reminded me of those commercials, the most interesting man in the world, that was Frank. His eyes were soft — his actions ruthless. There was no double-crossing him, no option other than the road he wanted you to take.

The last time I’d actually spoken to him alone, the blood of my husband’s hands had been on his hands. And I’d burst into tears of relief. The kind of thankful tears you only get once in a lifetime. And when I had asked for a knife. When I locked eyes with the Italian boss who would kill me next, I begged for time alone with my husband. He said yes. On one condition. He would be in the room. I could still feel the knife in my hands as I drove it into my husband’s abdomen, only to tug it down until it came into contact with his cold lifeless limp dick. I didn’t realize I was brutalizing a dead body until I tasted the blood splatters on my lips. Until Frank pulled me into his arms. And held me. Maybe that was when I knew something was wrong with me, something pivotal, something that was missing in my makeup. Because I hugged my husband’s murderer,

embraced him like my savior. Frank offered me his glass. I shook my head no. “You did not answer… my question, Eleanor.” His eyes were so blue, so clear, they reminded me of death and the fact that he walked around like his conscience was clear when he had the blood of so many souls on his hands, I was surprised God hadn’t struck him down yet. I licked my dry lips. “I’m trying.” “Are you?” Frank tilted his head like, his eyes darting back and forth like he was making mental calculations about my actions or lack thereof. “Want to know what I think?” “Not really.” I gulped. He chuckled; it sounded foreign coming from him. “I think… that you are still running up here.” He tapped his head and then reached over and tapped my chest. “And here.” He leaned back and sighed. “I think you are at war with yourself, but you will never be safe from your greatest threat unless you stare it in the face.” His eyes blazed. “Do you know, Eleanor? Do you know what you

fear?” My heart pounded so fast in my chest, my legs burned with the need to run, to escape, to get away from that knowing look and the way it made me want to tell all my secrets. “You,” Frank stood and held out his hand. I took it as he helped me to my feet. “Are afraid of being trapped and yet you are the very person keeping yourself in a cage. You took the keys from that monster a long time ago and that’s the only place you feel safe — you smell of fear, it pulses of off you in waves, and what’s worse, is you embrace it like a blanket not knowing it’s going to suffocate you one day. Fear is not your friend. It is your enemy.” “And you? What are you?” I gulped. He chuckled, his warm hand releasing mine by my side. “I’d like to think I’m family…” I frowned, my eyes narrowing an inch. If only he knew. Maybe he already did. I waited for confirmation. Instead, he let out a sigh and hung his head as if

he was frustrated. “It wouldn’t kill you, you know.” “What?” “Making friends. Buying a magazine. Watching Kardashian Wives.” My lips twitched. “What?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that not right?” “Close enough.” I found myself full on smiling. “I’ll… try harder.” A door slammed, and then Dante was charging into the living room with Chase hot on his heels. “All I’m saying is you have to stop thinking of them in that way.” Dante’s jaw clenched, his eyes were wild like an animal caged. And then those gloriously penetrating eyes found mine. And for some reason, all I kept thinking was he’d saved me today. It was time to return the favor. “You ready?” My voice never wavered, never shook, I could have sworn I saw Chase’s jaw nearly come unhinged from his face while Frank hid a smile behind his hand and scratched his head. Chest heaving, Dante gave me a jerky nod.

I held out my hand. He took it. Squeezed it so hard my chest nearly cracked. And then we were in the garage. Then in one of the new Range Rovers that Nixon liked to collect. And driving at breakneck speed. “Tell me you like pie,” was all Dante said. I hated pie. “I love pie.” “Pie it is.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Dante I

INHALED THROUGH

my nose, out my mouth,

twice, three times, ten freaking times, and when it still wasn’t working. I punched the steering wheel with my hand, again, and again, and again. Out of the corner of my eye, El flinched with each contact my fist made, an explosion of color broke out in my line of vision. I didn’t have a choice. I either saw the way I drew with comic

book like colors spouting from every angle when I was stressed — or I had to hit something. “Feel better?” She asked softly. I gritted my teeth, tasting blood on my tongue and mumbled out a gruff. “No.” “What fixes it?” Really? She wanted to talk now? I stopped at the light and opened the sunroof. Fresh air, maybe that would help. But no, I was still shaking. The burn ran from my elbows all the way down to my fingertips, it collided with my muscles, took over my mind, blinded everything except for the need to just… destroy. Maybe I was the monster the guys always said I’d become. Maybe I was just like him. Just like my dad. Ruthless. Cunning. Angry. Dangerous. “Sparring.” I finally got the word out. “Fights.”

You used to draw. I shoved the thought away, because drawing wouldn’t bring back my father, it wouldn’t bring back my life — it was as useless as I was if I didn’t get myself shit together. Focus in on what was necessary for survival. “But—” El turned on the AC even though it was frigid in the car already. “—you sparred with Chase tonight, right?” “That’s different.” I exhaled roughly. “It’s training, I can’t fight back, and trust me — they don’t want me to.” “Because you’d get hurt?” her voice was soft, confused. I burst out laughing; it was an ugly laugh, one that made me realize how sick of a human being I really was. “More like they’d get hurt.” I pulled into Sherri’s and parked. “So. Pie?” “Why?” El’s hand hovered over her seatbelt. “Why… what? Pie?” I asked confused. “Why do you let them hurt you? Why don’t you fight back? I don’t understand, if there’s a way to be free—”

“You think this is about freedom?” I spat. “This has nothing to do with being trapped and everything to do with revenge.” She recoiled. “On who?” “Trust me, you don’t want to know that either. Look,” I ran my bruised hands over my head. “You either want pie or you don’t want pie, I appreciate the save back there but I’m a shit conversationalist and I’d rather punch my way through a wall than have small talk, so if you can’t sit next to me and just… exist, then I’m leaving you in the car.” “You’re a jackass, you know that right?” She scowled, unbuckling her seatbelt and then jerking the door open. “Trust me.” I slammed my own door and followed her inside. “I know.” I didn’t look behind me as I shoved the door to the diner open and made my way to the furthest booth in the back. The wait staff knew the drill. One slice of apple pie a la mode. I knew the exact price in change to leave plus tip.

Four dollars and seventy cents gave them a little over a dollar. And if they were quick, I left them a ten. Luckily, it wasn’t two minutes after I sat down before a plate was placed in front of me with a spoon. The cheap plastic seat groaned a bit as El moved across it and sat, elbows on the table, head resting on her hands as she sat in silence. I dipped my spoon in the ice cream, then dug the edge into the crust of the apple pie and lifted it to my mouth. A vacuum cleaner sounded in the distance. A mom’s laughter. A baby screaming. Life just existed around us, as if it had a right to continue right the hell along — as if people like me weren’t fighting like hell to stay alive to stay safe. To stay sane. I was down to two more bites. I looked up, ready to offer my pie as a peace offering, when El scrunched up her nose like the look of ice cream was personally offensive. “I

didn’t take you for a vanilla kind of guy.” “Oh?” I licked my spoon. She swallowed and looked away, her hands twisting the paper napkin over and over again like it was the only thing that gave her comfort, ripping paper to shreds. I studied the angles of her face, the way her bow lips pressed together, her dark rimmed eyes like she’d lined them with coal. The way her eyelashes fanned across her high cheekbones. The same cheekbones that had been bruised the first day I saw her. Beyond fucking recognition. Money got you good doctors. Which meant she didn’t have any scars. And sometimes I wondered if she’d rather have the scars on her face to match the ones he’d left on the inside. “What flavor?” I finally asked. She jerked her head back in my direction, her lips parted. “Wh-what?” I licked the back of the spoon slowly and felt myself grin at her pink cheeks and the fact that my tongue sure has hell put that color there. “What flavor of ice cream?”

“Oh.” She bit down on her bottom lip sucking it in a bit before she frowned and shrugged. “I had you as a Rocky Road kinda guy.” “Because I like to fight?” I guessed. “Like Rocky?” She pressed her lips together in an amused smile. “No, because it seems like you only ever choose the hard way to do things. The rocky way. Road less traveled.” I jerked back, my body hitting the fake plastic leather. “Same could be said of you.” Her smile fell. “Believe me. Nobody would choose my path unless they were forced to.” “Were you?” It was out before I could bite my tongue. “Did you go… willingly?” She snorted and dropped the napkin onto the table, crossing her arms in that protective way she did when she was cornered. “Does it matter?” “I think it does,” I said in the softest voice I possessed, which still sounded like someone had grated my voice box over nails. “It matters.” She leaned forward and grabbed the spoon right out of my hand and dipped it into the melting ice

cream. “Never. I never went to him willingly.” The spoon touched her mouth then slid inside. I groaned and found myself cupping her chin. “Good girl.” I tilted her chin closer. “Always make them pay. Always.” “Them?” “Anyone stupid enough to fucking touch you without permission.” I released her and nodded toward the ice cream. “So, how was it?” “Very… vanilla.” She laughed and then laughed a little harder. “I think I’d like Rocky Road better.” Yeah, that made two of us. I dropped a twenty on the table and stood. “You still down to cover for me?” “On one condition.” She looked like she was bracing for a fight from the way she put her hands on her hips to the way she held her head. “I get to come with you.” “Hell no.” I laughed. “It could be a trap. I could die.” “Then I die too.” She said it so matter of fact, so… prettily with her soft voice and equally soft and gorgeous body. A sudden wave of

possessiveness washed over me. “No.” “Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “El, don’t push me on this.” “The only way they’re going to let you go out tonight is if they think you’re helping me with something.” “What could you possibly need help with?” I snapped. She held her head high, her eyes narrowed. “Self Defense.” I whistled. “Yeah, not gonna happen, you don’t want me near you when things get violent. I don’t —” Shame slammed into me. “I don’t stop.” “I don’t really need you to teach me.” She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I can handle myself.” “Doubtful,” I said under my breath about the same exact time I felt a knife poke into my lower back and her breath on my neck. “Deal?” she whispered. “More secrets, hmm?” I smirked, enjoying the way she thought she had me, seconds, it would take seconds to flip her on her ass and impale the knife

wherever I wanted it. But I liked her spirit. Correction, I freaking loved it. Shit, this wasn’t the plan. I quickly jerked her elbow down, slammed the knife out of her hand and walked her toward the car, then pressed her up against it. “Rules.” Her eyes lit up. Hell, this was a mistake. “No talking to anyone.” “I don’t talk to people.” A scowl drew her brows together. “You talk to me.” “You stock cookies in the pantry.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Plus you saved me today, I was just returning the favor.” My mind immediately conjured up all the other ways she could return favors, and anger quickly replaced lust. I jerked away from her. “Whatever you do, don’t get in the way of my fight.” “Because you want all the fun?” She called back at me as I made my way to the driver’s side. I opened the door and shook my head. “Because

I don’t want to accidentally kill you, genius.” She sucked in a breath. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” I said, leaving it at that before letting the anger return. I had to. Because if I was walking into a trap, I needed it. If I was walking into a fight. I’d need it more. Because something told me that the fight wouldn’t end with someone giving up anything but their life. I kept that part to myself as El texted Chase and Nixon our agreed upon alibi. Guilt gnawed. I ignored it like I always did.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

El ANGER MIXED WITH

anticipation. It pulsed off of

Dante in searing waves that had me constantly feeling the need to look away, because when he was like this, when he was… feeling his most alive — before possible death, he was irresistible. Like the god of war. And in the moonlight, as he drove through the gates of campus, I could almost believe it. There was something in the warm night air, in the way he

held the steering wheel. His eyes held purpose. His body pulsed. I blew out the breath I’d been holding in and kept my eyes on high alert; they darted from left to right then back again in vain search for anyone or anything that would give me a hint as to what really went on at midnight. And try outs for what? I never told Dante what the guy had said to me in class. Part of me was afraid of what he would do to him. And the other half of me was afraid of what would happen to me, if Dante saw the tattoo on my forearm, if he suspected I’d been marked just like them. It would be like a death sentence. Even though I fought like hell each time a needle touched my skin. They’d had to drug me to brand me. I ran my hand over my left arm, tugging down my tight fitting hoodie just in time for Dante to rakes his eyes over me. “You ready?”

“For what?” I frowned as inky darkness covered the completely abandoned parking lot. He didn’t answer. He killed the engine. The door closed with a heavy thump, and suddenly I found myself alone in the SUV. I quickly got out of the car and jogged after his already retreating form, so much for feeling protected. And as if he heard my thoughts, he stopped walking, let out a sigh, hanging his head in the process all before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. His arm was muscled — heavy. It didn’t relax me. Nothing about Dante relaxed me. If anything, he sent every nerve ending I had into chaos, right along with my breathing and my rapid heartbeat. “For appearances,” he whispered in that raspy voice of his. It wasn’t enough that he was gorgeous. His voice was… just rough enough to be sexy. I tried to cross my arms. It was awkward.

So even though I told myself it meant nothing, that I’d played the part before for someone worse than him — when I wrapped my arm around his waist, my breath caught. He stiffened and then pulled me closer. I’d like to think we’d had a shaky peace agreement over pie and ice cream, but I wasn’t sure, because men like Dante would never be safe. They would always be a choice you made if you had no other option. Dante Nicolasi was the last resort guy. Because he was the guy that would kill without blinking. He was the guy that actually wanted to walk into a trap and see if he could fight his way out without losing a tooth. I shivered. “None of that shit,” he said in a low voice. “Head high, can’t have you looking weak, El. Eyes straight. Remember you did just pull a knife on me.” I smirked. “There it is,” he encouraged with a tilt of his lips

just as we made our way around another building and another. “How do you even know where you’re going?” “The Spot,” he said in a bored voice. “Rumor has it — and know that the rumor came directly from the source — the mafia held a guy here once, beaten, nearly killed. It became a sort of urban legend. It’s not on the campus map, so unless you know where to go, you won’t find it.” We rounded another corner. “Chase said it was well hidden.” “You told Chase?” I found that hard to believe. “Hell no, I asked him if there was anywhere I could take a body and he laughed and said, The Spot.” I nodded. “Makes sense, though a bit disconcerting that he’d just give you a drop off point.” “Oh, he offered to help too,” Dante said in an amused voice. I tried not to tremble at how easily he talked about death. It had surrounded me for the last three years. It still petrified me.

The smell of blood. The stench of a rotting corpse. Or the nightmare that I would one day be next if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted. Every night, at midnight. Cinderella was chased by her prince when the clock struck. And I willingly gave my body to mine — fighting got you killed. “See that,” Dante nodded his head. “Up ahead, the flicker of light, The Spot supposedly is directly to the left, which means…” A few people made their way toward the building coming from the opposite direction. Nobody seemed surprised to see us. Whispers and murmurs turned into laughter which turned into shouting and the sound of bone hitting bone. Nausea hit full force as the smell of blood filled the air. A guy in a leather jacket and a beanie looked me over, then Dante. “You here for tryouts?” Dante nodded.

“You got dental records?” I looked down. Dante laughed. “Nah, man.” “Well that was easy.” The guy cracked his fingers. “No cops. No snitches. No cameras.” Dante held out his arms while the guy quickly patted him down. Obviously not finding the knife hidden in his jacket. I grimaced while he turned his eyes to me. “I’ll do it,” Dante said gruffly. “You can watch.” “But—” “I said,” Dante stood head to head to him. “I’ll do it.” The guy held out his hands. “Whatever man, I don’t want trouble.” “No. You really don’t.” Dante sneered then turned his hard gaze to me, I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead, tried to keep myself indifferent as he slowly ran his bruised hands down the front of my body, his knuckles almost felt… soft as they grazed the skin of my stomach and then, his hands were beneath my shirt. His jaw flexed as he ran his fingers across my bra, and then very strategically

shoved a knife into my right cup and winked. Cold metal hit my nipple just enough to make me sway toward him, I had no idea why. My body typically didn’t respond to a man’s touch. Not anymore. I’d been broken too much by it — to ever want it again. And yet, when Dante ran his rough hands down my skinny jeans. When he cupped my ass and then very slowly ran fingers down the back of my thighs, I could almost imagine a world where it would feel good. So. Good. And then his fingers were gone. “’Bout time.” The guy sneered. “Or did you want to do a body cavity search too?” “I’m game if you are.” Dante winked at me. I scowled. Even though I found my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Pretty.” The guy seemed to finally notice me, and his brown eyes lit up as he focused in on my chest. I shuddered. “Mine,” Dante all but barked at the guy, then

jerked me through the door, nearly detaching my arm from its socket. The metal door shut behind us, sealing us in. It wasn’t what I expected. It was about fifty times worse. “Breathe through your nose,” Dante said under his breath, tugging me closer to his body as we weaved through the large crowd. “Don’t close your eyes.” Five chairs were lifted up onto a platform like freaking thrones over the small blood caked circle in the center. One crown. And bleeding stars surrounding it, was etched on the cement. And on each of the four cement walls surrounding us. Bloody hand prints. With RIP written over them in marker. Dante turned his head toward mine and kissed me softly on the mouth, I wasn’t expecting it. I clung to his shirt while his lips moved nimbly over mine, softly caressing my cheek and then

meeting my ear. “Speak to no one.” He kissed my neck again then whispered in my other ear. “I’m serious, El. Keep your eyes forward,” Another kiss. “Head up.” His mouth fused against mine, I gasped as his tongue slid past my bottom lip, licking me up like I was better than pie, better than vanilla. “Don’t worry. I don’t lose.” He broke away from me just as the talking around us died down. I still clung to his hand. My body shook as the five guys from earlier today sat casually on their thrones of blood, their fake power, with their Russian tattoos and seemingly good looks. It was like looking at a fake god, an imposter. While holding the hand of Zeus. Pride filled me as one of the guys peeled off his black T-shirt revealing more tats on his chest, ones that left nothing to the imagination of his parentage. The guy was Russian. “I’m never shocked.” The guy sneered. “And yet, here you are? Isn’t that one of the rules? No Abandonatos?”

Dante released my hand, jerked off his jacket, then peeled the shirt from his body. “Good thing I’m a Nicolasi, then, huh?” He dropped his shirt to the floor. I tried to hide my shock at his perfect body. But it was humanly impossible not to stare, not to look at the divots of muscle that bulged around his core or the way that bruises marred his dark skin making him look that much more dangerous than the guy standing behind him. The word Nicolasi was written in dark font over his shoulders, and below it, a black raven holding steal knuckles in one claw and a book in the other claw. Whispers buzzed and grew into a frenzy as the guy sneered. “That’s just a tattoo… I want to see how you bleed.” Dante grinned like he was having the time of his life. “You first.” One of the other guys stood and held out his hands. “Silence,” His cold blue eyes fell to me, I remembered the way they raked over me in the classroom. “My brother Ike, it seems, will be first.” Ike walked into the blood-caked circle and

stood in the middle of the crown his chin high, his nostrils flaring. “Rules,” the guy said before the lights flicked off and a spotlight fell to both Dante and Ike. “Last man standing wins — and if you are the loser, you must forfeit your life — it’s up to the winner to decide if he’ll let you have it. But remember, once you’ve fought in here and lost — you will be marked and be forced to owe us one favor — that is, if you’re still breathing.” He laughed and then said in a low voice. “Begin.” I locked eyes with Dante. Only to find his arrogant smile slip. And a mask of cold brutality take its place.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dante IKE WAS ABOUT to have a very bad night. Followed by an equally bad day where both of his eyes were going to swell shut. The right was already starting to seal, the skin puffing out above his cheekbone like an allergic reaction to my fist. I grinned at him, then ducked as he tried to land another blow. His fists moved in slow motion past my face

again and again, I kneed him in the stomach, followed through with my right elbow, and slammed my hand against his nose, the jarring sound of cartilage breaking only fueled the flames. And finally. I was calm. Awareness washed over me as I waited for his next step. It was sluggish, every movement full of pain as he lazily charged toward my body and tried to toss me onto my ass. I was too big for him to try to lift off the ground, but I let him try, and when he jerked away, I could barely see the white of his eyes from swelling. Blood dripped down his lip. Right hook, right hook, pound, pound. His head cracked backward as a tooth fell onto the cement floor, dripping in blood and then his body staggered after it, blood and sweat splattered like a mist into the air. Chest heaving, I walked over his body, ready to help him up, ready to ask for my favor, the one owed to me. Something about the way these guys

operated made me think that I was going to need a hell of a lot more in order to uncover whatever Nixon and Chase thought was going on in this place. They sent me in blind and said to figure out my own shit. This was the only way I knew how. Even though I promised my sister I wouldn’t fight. In my book, it was the only way to get answers. I held out my hand. Ike looked up at it, a look of disgust marred his face, as one of the guys slowly walked down the stairs, like this was his castle, his freaking temple, and everyone participating, his subjects. “Shh,” someone said to my left. “Andrei’s going to say something.” And just like that, the room fell into a hush. I glanced back at El. Her face was white. Her eyes flickered with recognition and then she locked eyes with me, pleading for… something. Andrei held up his thumb, people gasped, then

the three guys behind him stepped forward and did the same. People waited like they were gods. And then Andrei glanced down at Ike. “Sorry, brother. You have outlived your usefulness—” He looked ready to say something else, but instead he lifted his blond hair and straightened his shoulders, then turned his thumb downward. His friends followed. And the rest of the room surrounding me did the same. My heart raced. “Kill,” Andrei said so simply, so softly that I knew I had to have heard him wrong. I had no problem with killing — none whatsoever. But this… this was a kid, he was my age, he was — Someone walked through the crowd. A gun was placed on a red pillow with a P embroidered. El looked ready to puke. I didn’t need to do the math to know who this guy was related to.

Russian. Petrov. The family her bastard of a husband used to work for. If they recognized her and found out that she didn’t really belong to me, belong to us at least not yet — we were done. I needed all the focus on me. On this. I quickly picked up the gun, no hesitation; hesitation got you on the other end of that gun. I pulled off the safety and fired two rounds directly into Ike’s chest, then one more in his head. I walked over, picked up my discarded T-shirt, and wiped my prints off of the weapon, then slowly walked toward Andrei. When we were face to face, I sidestepped him, amongst gasps and whispers. And fucking sat on his throne.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

El HIS KILLING WAS swift. Ruthless. His fists fast as they pounded out the rage that burned inside him. I’d never been so terrified of anyone in my entire life — of what they were capable of. I saw his darkness. And I had no choice but to keep watching. Not once did I think he was going to lose.

And when their leader glanced over the crowd with an amused glint in his eyes, it hit me. Maybe it was the way the light shadowed his face, or maybe my brain just wasn’t ready to admit it yet. He wasn’t just a Petrov. He was the last remaining heir. Andrei Petrov. One of the most deadly Russian gangs I’d ever encountered, one of the same men who my “husband” had worked for — had bled for, had killed for. Andrei was the youngest of the Petrov children. He liked to watch people set themselves on fire and burn. Which begged the question what the ever-loving hell was he doing at Eagle Elite? When he had contacts all over the world. He was twenty-one. He liked blood. It was all I could gather from when my husband would come to my bed at midnight and use my body. One time he said damn it Andrei, getting

involved with them. I assumed “them” was another family. Maybe it was the school. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Because no longer was I safe. No longer was I just trying to make it through a school day, and suddenly I was reminded of the stupid Game of Thrones commercial. Enemies in the East. Enemies to the West. Enemies to the North. Enemies to the South. That was my life. Enemies in my house. Enemies in my bed. Enemies vying for my heart. Enemies ready to steal my soul. Dante shot him three times. I didn’t blink. I needed to see it. To remind myself that he was the very monster I had been fighting my entire life. NO matter what, I would not allow myself to get close.

And if I did — it would be a ruse, a ruse so that I could feel my hands around his throat while I watched the life leave his body. The only out was in. He was going to force my hand. Because I wanted to be free. Of all of this. The choking fear of loss surrounded me. All I had left to fight for was me. The idea of me. The idea of life my parents blessed me with. To live beyond the murder, the money, the drugs, the family name. I escaped. I was captured. Set free. Captured again. I would not lose. He sat on a throne of power. A throne of lies. He glanced over at me, his expression blank. I nodded my head at him once, and waited while Ike’s body was dragged across the bloody cement

floor, his red stained palm print pressed against the wall, and RIP with a date written over top of it. People celebrated. They cheered like we were in Rome and this was our Coliseum. I barely had time to run out of the place before I puked my guts into the bushes. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before something touched my back. I jerked away. Chase sighed and offered me his shirt, peeling it off his body without question, waiting for me to gag into it and wipe my face. “You saw?” I asked. “He basically told me where he was going. Dante doesn’t do shit like that on accident, I think he was worried something would happen to you.” I snorted and wiped my mouth again, his shirt was soft, it smelled like detergent, it smelled normal. “Does that look like a guy who’s worried about who lives or dies?” Chase hesitated for a second then grunted. “He made an impossible decision. The only way he was walking out of there with you by his side was

shooting that gun. You do realize that right?” “I refuse to believe that was the only way.” “Trust me,” Chase leaned in closer as people started walking out of The Spot. “You live this life long enough and you learn to study every single exit, every single face, every single option — I watched the entire thing, I would have done the same, except I probably would have gotten my ass kicked a lot more, kid can fight.” “Kid?” I repeated. “Fine, the man can fight?” Chase offered with a wink. “Don’t tease, don’t… not when someone’s dead.” Chase shrugged. “That someone, you’re feeling so heartbroken over, had a rap sheet longer than Phoenix’s black folder stack. He killed his last girlfriend for cheating on him… sells drugs to the student body, and is selling a street drug eighty times stronger than heroine… people have been dying, it’s only fair that he should too.” I gulped and then argued, I had to. “Human life is human life.”

Chase’s eyes fell. “Keep that innocence as long as you fucking can, El. It’s the thing we love the most about you.” “I’m not innocent.” “And yet here we stand.” He smirked. “Arguing over the slain monster.” The door jerked open. Dante strolled out. Took one look at us and kept walking. Chase followed in silence, I fell into step beside him. Five black SUV’s waited. Chase opened the door to one. I got in. Dante followed. “El,” Dante licked his lips. “We should talk—” “I’m all talked out,” I hissed. He reached for me. I jerked away. “Touch me again and I’m using the knife you stashed in my bra.” Chase’s eyes met mine from the rearview mirror. “Nice… you stashed a knife in her bra? Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Probably because I’m a Nicolasi and own a brain… Abandonato,” Dante finished in a teasing tone. How could they joke? Someone was dead! His handprint on the wall! I crossed my arms. One wrong didn’t make a right. Several wrongs didn’t either. There was no line. It was blurred between right and wrong. There was no black and white. Only gray. Rain pounded on the windshield. The SUV stopped in front of a large building. “Chinese?” Dante asked. “We’re getting takeout?” “Yeah.” Chase chuckled. “Something like that.” “El,” Dante tried again as we walked into the abandoned looking restaurant. A bartender stood on the other side of the bar. And a man who looked vaguely familiar stood. I hid behind Dante.

“Oh, now you want my protection?” Dante said under his breath before jerking me forward and into the arms of The Doctor. One of the most infamous assassins in the Russian Mafia. And naturally, owner of a Pulitzer for medicine. The world was a cruel and confusing place. “Nikolai Blazik,” I said his name out loud, had to, to believe it. Tattoos littered his knuckles, the man was a fallen angel. I refused to look into his eyes. He forced me when he tilted my chin toward him and whispered. “That bastard deserved what he got for touching you.” And that was it. He nodded to Dante, shook hands with Chase. And suddenly, within seconds. I was surrounded. By all bosses of the Italian Mafia. And the one snitch I never saw coming from the Russians. Nikolai.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Dante “YOU LOOK LIKE death.” Nikolai’s eyebrows shot in my direction and then he took a step forward and sniffed the air like a freaking animal. “It looks good on you.” I think that was the equivalent of a compliment from the Russians. “Thanks.” I met his dark gaze before glancing around the empty restaurant. There was only one reason he would be there, in Chicago, and I had a

bad feeling it had everything to do with what had just happened. And the aftermath. Nixon jerked his head toward the hallway. I followed the rest of the group, while El stood by my side, I could feel the heat of her body, the ripple of tension running through her fingertips as they grazed the side of my right hand over and over again, like she was ready to grab and run. The room was dark. A single candle lit in the middle. Chairs were placed around a square table. A glass of wine in front of each chair. And as every boss and associate sat, it became very clear that I was expected to do the same. Weeks. Weeks I’d suffered under these guys, gotten brutalized, beaten, bloodied. And now, it seemed, they still had one last test. Because beside the last empty seat at the table was a knife on the left a gun on the right. I sat while El stood near the door. She semi-blocked the only exit. I waited for someone to say something when

Tex, the Capo dei Capi, finally stood and addressed us. “Loyalty. Family. Honor. Independence. Class. Blood.” His eyes flashed as he lifted his wine glass into the air. “Blood of my blood.” The rest of the men grabbed their glasses, Nikolai included, I’d been initiated in New York, so I had no freaking clue what the hell they were doing or asking me to do, until they all took a sip of wine. Nikolai sat to my left, Tex gave him a quick nod just as Nikolai reached for the knife and then held out his hand. “Give me your trigger finger.” I complied. Barely even blinking. He pricked the pointer finger on my right hand and held it over the wine glass. “One drop for Loyalty, one drop for Family,” He squeezed harder, I tried not to wince as the stinging sensation increased. “One drop for Honor. One drop for Independence.” He squeezed again. “One drop for Class, one drop for Blood.” He grabbed the gun and pressed it into the palm of my right hand and then

put my finger on the trigger. “And one drop for Allegiance.” Tex walked over to me and knelt as Nikolai forced me to press the tip of the gun into Tex’s forehead. “Do you serve yourself?” “No,” I said in a low voice. “Then who do you serve?” I’d failed every test I could possibly think of in school — on purpose. It always bored me, and now I was facing the biggest test of all. I would not fail. “I serve The Family.” He grinned as jerked the gun away and sat it down. “Blood in.” Nixon raised his glass. “No out.” The guys lifted their glasses again and watched me as I lifted mine. They drank. Expectant eyes on me. Chase’s amused glance wasn’t helping things. I sighed heavily. “Please tell me this isn’t some weird scenario where I end up drinking my own blood.”

Chase burst out laughing. “I bet them each a hundred that you’d question it.” “Dollars?” I snorted. “Thousand.” Nixon grinned. “And no you don’t drink it, it’s symbolic, we’re not complete monsters.” The guys all chuckled at that while I slowly set my wine glass back down. “Now that loyalty is taken care of.” Nikolai’s gaze briefly darted behind me. “It seems we have one more matter to discuss.” The room was tense again. “Chase…” Phoenix suddenly interrupted. “Maybe we should wait until we have Mil, we need all votes to count.” His expression hardened a bit. “I’ll vote on her behalf.” Sergio and Phoenix shared a look before Phoenix nodded at Nikolai. “Right.” Nikolai stood. “You know why I’m here,” He ran a hand through his dark hair. His tattoos flickered in the candlelight. “The Petrovs want what’s theirs.”

I gripped the table with my hands, every muscle flexing with the need to grab El and tell her to make a run for it. “She’s not fucking property.” I snarled, not realizing I’d even spoken before all eyes fell to me. “What?” Chase looked away guiltily while Phoenix leaned back in his chair and sighed. Nixon stared me down and then nodded to Nikolai. “So glad you agree,” Nikolai said. “That brings us to a vote, I suppose.” His dark look wasn’t comforting at all, or the way his lips curled into a menacing smile. “If she stays under your protection — she’ll need to marry.” I snorted out a laugh. “She’s a human being!” “Says the man who just shot a complete stranger… on school property,” Nikolai said in a cold voice. Man had a point damn it. “All in favor of her staying under the protection of The Family?” Everyone raised their hands.

I kept mine firmly planted at my side and shook my head at El, she didn’t deserve this, nobody did. “Then it’s settled.” Nikolai rubbed his hands together. “Phoenix, you’ll contact me once you find someone suitable to… take her on?” “Take her on?” I repeated. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” “You know,” Nicolasi completely ignored me and spoke to Tex. “The only time I ever get yelled at is when I visit, I wonder why that is?” “Italians,” Tex muttered and winked over at me. “So emotional.” “Consider it done.” Phoenix started writing something down in one of his notorious black folders and stood. “Shouldn’t be a problem, I already have a few in mind.” Cold washed over me. “A few,” I said. Needing to repeat it out loud in order to believe it. “You’re just going to pawn her off onto some guy you barely know? How the hell is that protecting her?” “New identity.” Phoenix shrugged. “New location. New life. What did you expect?”

For some reason, all I kept thinking was me. I expected me. I had no business being her protector when I was finding it hard as hell to be her friend. And yet the thought of her leaving. Of some other man touching her. Rage lit my body on fire as my blood boiled beneath my skin. “Unless, you’re offering?” Nixon said interrupting the daydream I had of shooting every last one of them and telling her to run. “Dante?” I didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. I would be poison to her. I was the life she wanted to leave. I represented everything she hated. She would be exchanging a monster for a villain. “No.” Nixon nodded as if he’d expected that from the beginning and had made other plans while my soul suddenly felt crushed. I finally turned to look at El. And for the first time since I’d seen her — she

had tears in her eyes. One slipped free. And I knew it in my soul — it was because of me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

El I’D BEEN RAPED, abused, tortured at the hands of a man who took an oath to love and protect me through sickness and in health — but he was the sickness. I’d been to hell and back. And was still alive, breathing, functioning. And yet I’d never been so embarrassed, so ashamed, in my entire life. So unwanted.

And tarnished. Broken. Dante refused to even look at me as we drove home. Maybe it was for the best. He was a killer. He was unapologetic. What did that say about me, the kind of person I was, I wondered, if the monster didn’t even want what was left of the discarded princess? I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt the tear slide down my cheek, I wiped it away as quickly as I could and mentally cursed myself for even allowing any emotion to show. You’d think after escaping my ex-husband, after being basically a child bride, I’d have no tears left. I thought so too. Until Dante Nicolasi. The minute the SUV parked back in the giant garage with all its fancy cars and motorcycles — I bolted, my feet taking me faster and faster to the only place that would give me solitude. My bedroom.

I slammed the door behind me, locked it and fell across my bed in true teenage fashion. If only. At nineteen, I was still struggling with the childhood I was never given, while being forced to give up my adulthood in one fell swoop. “El!” Dante pounded on my door. “Open up.” I didn’t answer. I closed my eyes, willed the tears in, and waited for him to leave. He didn’t keep pounding. He didn’t even swear this time. Instead, I heard some whispers and footsteps. The bathroom light turned on. Washing the blood from his hands most likely. Not that he would ever be clean. That was the cruel trick of the mafia. Give a bloody man soap, and all it does is encourage him to get dirty again. Because guys who killed, guys like Dante, missed the way the red looked against their skin, the power it gave them when they realized they were the one that caused it.

The shower stopped. I watched the crack of light and the shadow of Dante as he moved within it and wondered if he thought about the face of the guy he shot, wondered if he cared. Because what made him any different? What made these Italians any better than the Russians? Other than the fact that they clearly loved their wives. And each other. I punched my pillow and let sleep overcome me. I didn’t realize I’d even fallen asleep until I jerked awake with my clothes still on from the night before, laying across the bed with my light on, and the ceiling fan slowly whipping around in lazy circles. My neck felt bruised like I’d slept on top of my arm or something. My stomach growled. Now I wish I had eaten all the pie Dante had. Actually, I wish I would have eaten the ice cream too and ordered a side of fries. I slowly peeled off last night’s clothes, put on a

pair of black sleep shorts and a white tank, then opened the door and poked my head out. The hall was dark. Silent. Nixon’s house was big, not as monstrous as Sergio’s, but a close second. And to make matters a little… disconcerting; there were cameras in every single corner so it wasn’t like I was sneaking anywhere. I just didn’t want to feel like I had to sneak anymore. Like I was a stranger in a house not a home. I made my way down to the gourmet kitchen. And then opened the door to the pantry and stepped in. Dante had a massive sweet tooth. And ever since Christmas he’d been buying extra chocolate chip cookies — the only ones I was allowed to touch if I wanted to take his threats seriously and after last night? Well, I didn’t want to be on the other end of a gun. I reached into the box just as I eyed the brand new shiny package of Oreos.

Maybe just… one. I wiped the crumbs from my mouth and started peeling back the plastic, it was louder than a freaking gunshot going off in that pantry. Finally, I pried the plastic free and reached for the first Oreo. “Stealing?” Dante’s low voice said behind me, not only scaring me half to death but sending chills down my arms, while simultaneously making me feel the need to knee him in the balls and make a run for it, Oreos in hand. “I didn’t hear you,” I said, leaving the package of Oreos and returning to my box of chocolate chip. “That was on purpose.” He reached around me and grabbed the pack of Oreos then slowly pulled one free and bit into it. I narrowed my eyes. He grinned and took another bite. “I should get to bed.” I tried side stepping him. And each time he blocked my way. Don’t panic. I licked my lips and met his gaze. “I didn’t eat any.” “I’m aware of that.”

“So you can’t—” What? Hurt me? “Food doesn’t make me violent.” He smirked. “OH? What does it make you then?” His eyes raked over me before he took another bite. “Possessive.” I uncrossed my arms and rubbed them. Dante sucked in a breath. “Shit, El, you really shouldn’t be walking around without a bra.” Shame washed over me as I crossed my arms again. “I didn’t think any perverts would be up.” “Oh, so I’m a pervert now?” He smirked. “Something like that,” I grumbled, suddenly exhausted from the exchange. “Here.” Dante held out the package of Oreos like an olive branch. “Take one.” “They’re Oreos you can’t just eat one,” I argued. “Something we can agree on.” He licked his lips like he could still taste the cookie. “It’s just a few cookies, El.” “Are you going to punish me later?” His eyes flashed. “Not in the way you think.” I had a completely horrible physical reaction, I

leaned into him for no reason! The heat from his body was making me irrational. And the way he looked at me like he wished I was the Oreo… I had no business letting him look at me, or returning that same look and yet there we were, in the pantry. When I didn’t move, he grabbed one and held it to my mouth. I opened and bit. “Shit.” He blinked and looked away. I took another bite, this time my teeth hit his thumb. He jerked back. “You deserved that.” “And here I thought we’d made so much progress. If you want to bite me, El all you need to do is ask.” “It wasn’t a friendly bite.” He grinned and leaned in, his lips grazing my ear. “All bites are friendly — if you’re doing it right.” My hands shook at my side, like they wanted to do something stupid and irreversible, like touch his face. Or kiss him again. The memory of his lips burned.

And I knew it was nothing compared to what they actually felt like against my mouth. I cleared my throat and took a step back. “Thank you for the, Oreo.” “You didn’t even lick the cream first…” He winked. “I’m so disappointed.” I glared, my face heating. “Maybe I like the cookie part better.” “Nobody likes the cookie part better than the cream, El…” He said it with such conviction that I felt my entire body pulse like he’d flipped a switch I didn’t even know existed and blocked any way to flip it the hell back off. I opened my mouth, ready to say something that would get me out of the situation when he cupped a hand over my face and said against my ear, “Shh, someone’s coming.” I gulped as he pulled me back against him. “Seriously Mil?” Chase hissed. “Do you even know what time it is? I’m getting tired of this shit!” Mil was quiet and then. “You know I was working.” “You’re always working, ever since you found

out you weren’t pregnant you’ve just poured yourself into work,” Chase said in a low voice. “And I get it, I do, but with everything up in the air with the Petrov family, with Dante killing one of the cousins tonight…” I stiffened. “You can’t just say you’re going to be there for a family vote and not show up, and then expect me to cover your ass, you’re the boss, act like it.” Mil swore. “I know, Chase, okay? Don’t you think I get that? I have a crumbling empire on my shoulders, and no money left to fix it with!” Chase muttered something under his breath and then. “The Abandonatos—” “No!” Her voice was final. Cold. “I don’t want your money, I don’t want Nixon’s money, this is exactly what I’m talking about, why I don’t want Phoenix’s help either. It’s my family, my legacy, my blood, my problem, and I’m trying to do it well while men talk about me behind my back, while women refuse to even look at me in the eye because I have their husbands by the balls. I’m alone in this.”

“Funny,” Chase said in an exhausted voice. “Because the minute we got married we made a promise to each other. There is nothing you can do, nowhere you can go where I won’t follow you, where I won’t do anything to keep you alive, to keep this crumbling family of yours glued together. That’s what marriage is, that’s what a partnership is. But I can’t fucking do that if you keep pushing me away, coming home at four in the morning with blood on your hands. I can’t help if I don’t know where the body even is, Mil.” I hoped he meant figuratively. Dante tensed behind me, his forehead pressed against the back of my skull like he’d heard enough and was too frustrated to keep listening. “I know.” Mil sniffed. I’d never seen the woman cry. “I’m just… this is my only shot, and I want you guys to be proud of me, can’t you see that I need to do this on my own?” Something hit the ground and made a noise before Chase sighed. “Mil, I love you. Whatever you ask — it’s yours, just promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I had my gun.” “And your knives?” “I invested in another one, sharper, sexier—” With a groan, Chase started kissing her. There was no mistaking what they were doing. I half expected Dante to cover my ears, instead it just made me… want. Exactly what they had. Dante’s breath hitched when something else went flying onto the ground and Mil’s moans filled the air along with the rustle of clothing. I should have been embarrassed. I wasn’t. I also should have coughed so they’d know we were listening. My heart raced as Dante’s breathing picked up behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything but the way that Chase spoke to Mil, with dirty words, promises, things that turned my insides to mush. I’d never been spoken to that way before. “How the hell did you get a knife wound on

your thigh?” Chase moaned. ‘Never mind, don’t care, just don’t get infected — son of — yeah just like that, baby.” More clothing, and then, “Grip the countertop, yeah, love seeing your ass in my face.” Mil laughed. “Chase, your tongue shouldn’t — yeah, yeah right there, don’t stop, I still have my knife.” “Like I care.” My chest heaved as I pushed back into Dante, like I needed to creep further into the shadow of the pantry. He hissed out a curse in my ear, almost stumbling backward, and then grabbed my body and held on. He felt. Solid. All man. I gulped and prayed he couldn’t hear my heart race, or read my mind, and the way that my thoughts lingered on our kiss or the way I could feel him trying to control his arousal. With each noise. He clutched me tighter.

I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down on my lip until I could taste blood. And then they were done. Gone. And I was so awake it felt like I’d just taken a handful of chocolate covered espresso beans. Dante’s hands flexed as he gripped my hips. “Wait.” I hung my head as his fingers danced up my sides, grazing my ribs, toying with my shirt, until they both slipped beneath my tank top. I froze. And a miracle occurred. His hands, the hands of a killer. Felt like the hands of a savior. It wasn’t death I felt on his skin. It was something else entirely. Life. I arched into him, felt his lips graze my neck before he sighed and dropped his hands, without once touching me without permission. “Let’s go.” His voice was hoarse as he grabbed my hand and led me quietly down the hall.

He stopped at my room first. I wanted him to come in. And felt weak for wanting anything from a man who wanted nothing from me even when it was offered on a silver platter. Russian. Whore. That’s all I was. But for one second. Dante had touched me like I was — more. His eyes roamed over me before he sighed and hung his head. “Night, El.” I closed my door and locked it, then eyed the shared bathroom and without a second thought, unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dante THERE WAS NO chance

in hell I could sleep after

touching her smooth skin, after being so close to doing something there would be no coming back from. The more I tried to hate her. The more hate somehow turned into want. Which was one of the worst ideas I’d ever had, I blamed the adrenaline from the fight and the fact that tomorrow at school — things were going to be

different. I’d killed one of their own. Sat on their pathetic throne. Basically showed them their asses and was given a meeting time before classes. Which basically meant I was in. I just didn’t know what I was in. Which meant the guys owed me an explanation because rather than get in trouble for fighting again, for getting in over my head, they basically welcomed me into the fold and gave me equal footing with family voting. I ran my hands over my face, just as the sound of a lock turning had me jerking my attention to the bathroom. I always left my door open. Not because I was afraid of locked doors. But because I heard her nightmares every night since she’d moved in with Nixon. And every night, a part of me wanted nothing more than to slay whatever monster haunted her and send him back into Hell. But her door was shut.

So she wrestled with her demons alone while I listened. Not tonight. I turned on my side, my eyes focused on her door like a trained soldier, I kept them open, watching, waiting for her to fall asleep. Because something told me that she was the only soldier in a one-woman army. And it was about time someone helped her out — even if that someone was her new enemy. Friends? That was just the word she used to unarm me. What she meant was, she wanted to keep me close unless all things went to Hell. She didn’t want my friendship, and that stung more than it should. But protection? She knew she could get. I really shouldn’t have kissed her. Touched her. Wanted her. I was doing a lot of things I swore I’d never do, including purposefully losing much needed sleep so that I could guard her door — so she wouldn’t have to.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Dante “WELL YOU LOOK like complete shit,” Chase said as he took a sip of coffee. “And you look like you got laid,” I fired back. He choked on his coffee while I stared at the counter. “Tell me you disinfected every single area on this side of the kitchen.” Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t watch me give my wife a—” I held up my hands. “I didn’t see, I heard.”

“Whole damn house heard.” Nixon glared from his spot on the table, I hadn’t even noticed him. “And Trace already disinfected all spaces that could have seen and or touched Chase’s penis.” “Thank God.” Chase smirked. “I know she did when I—” “Not before breakfast,” Nixon interrupted while I pulled out a chair at the table and started piling my plate high full of eggs, bacon, and toast. “So,” Nixon scooted a mug toward me and filled it high with pure black goodness. “You ready for today?” I shrugged. “Not really sure what I’m ready for… since you guys won’t tell me shit.” Chase sat down on my other side. “Think of it like this, those guys run the school, but it’s more than that. If it was just some pricks with power trips we’d be okay with it — we, being the Abandonatos, since we own the school.” “But they’re clearly killing students for shits and giggles,” I said over the steam billowing out of my cup. “And clearly they’re related to Petrov.” “Andrei is his last remaining son — twenty-one,

enrolled the minute he found out that we killed his informant, Xavier.” El’s ex-husband. Tyrant. Idiot. I balled my hands into tight fists as my blood roared for justice. “It’s not just that,” Nixon re-filled his coffee cup. “They’re trying to make a show that the Italians are out — they’re trying to build up their own sad pathetic little Chicago gang, just like the one in New York.” “Shit.” I suddenly wasn’t so hungry. “That’s… great news.” “Most of Petrov’s money was seized during the FBI raid last year. Nikolai helped us rain hell and they’ve sworn retribution ever since. Up until now they’ve lacked the money to do it,” Chase chimed in. “And yet somehow, operations started again on the East Coast, they’re selling anything and everything, getting in large shipments from Mexico and Canada and here’s the really fun part, they’re distributing to the student body.”

A headache pulse behind my ears. “So they’ve continued operations even though there technically is no leader except for a twenty-one-year-old shit that thinks he can build his own army by giving people free drugs and putting students who aren’t tough enough in body bags? Did I miss anything?” Nixon shrugged like it was a normal Tuesday. “It’s all the intel we have.” Chase stood. “It’s our city.” “Damn right it is.” Nixon swore. “I want them wiped out.” My eyebrows shot up. “And when you say wiped out—” “Let me be very clear.” Nixon’s nostrils flared. “I would like you to infiltrate their pathetic little gang, gain their trust, do whatever you have to do like you did last night and pick them off one by fucking one. Got it?” I shrugged and took a long sip of coffee. “Consider it done.” Nixon hung his head then sat back into his chair like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, then again as boss, he probably did.

It was why I never wanted the job. Why I was pissed that I was even up for it. Because the only reason I was back in Chicago was to be groomed to take over the family that my father should have taken over — but didn’t. The Alferos. My name said Nicolasi. Just like my father’s name said Nicolasi. But before he was ever part of that crime family. He and his brother Frank, led the Alferos. They were in love with the same woman. And because Frank messed up in the biggest way possible — he gave his wife up — to his brother, the woman he loved. And when you love someone, kids soon follow, right? Disgusted I shoved my plate of food away. “What about El?” Nixon frowned. “What about her?” “She’s at school, she’s going to know something’s going on.” “She’s smart.” Nixon nodded slowly. “So your best bet, is to make sure that when it comes to

picking sides — she’s on ours.” “How long until someone…” I couldn’t even get it out. “Until Phoenix finds someone—” “This week,” Chase interrupted. “We’re getting a little visit from our favorite cousins, yay,” his words dripped with sarcasm. “Look, it blows that we have to do it this way, but that’s the mafia, she either goes back to the Russians and dies, or stays under our protection and marries someone who will at least let her live her life.” “That’s not life.” I clenched my teeth. “No,” Nixon said after a pause. “But it’s the best we can do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

El DANTE WANTED TO drive us to school. I didn’t have the strength to argue, I was still exhausted even though I’d somehow had the best sleep I’d ever had in my entire life. I had dreams of Dante putting a blanket over me when I got cold, and the dream shifted into something more heated that had me tangled in my sheets and sweaty. And most of all confused about what it meant. “I have somewhere to be this morning,” Dante

said in his usual indifferent yet always chilly tone. “I’ll meet you after class.” I gulped and looked out the window. “Are you meeting them? The guys from last night?” Silence. I tried again. “What if it’s four against one? What if they want to hurt you?” “Then I’ll hurt them right back.” He oozed confidence as he maneuvered the car through the open iron gates. I should have expected that sort of answer. “Okay,” I said once we parked. I reached for my messenger bag just as Dante cursed under his breath. The guys were waiting for us. I kept my expression blank. “They touch you, you let me handle it. Everything I’m about to say is going to be a lie, understand?” “How will I know when you’re telling the truth,” I fired back before grabbing the handle to the door. He shoved the keys in his pocket and grabbed

my arm, twisting me back in my seat until I was pressed against the soft leather, his face inches from mine. “I will never lie to your face.” He blinked slowly, his cool blue eyes assessing. “My only tell, is that if I lie to you, I look below your eyes, above your eyes, near your eyes,” he touched one side of my face. “And I might even look through your eyes, but I will never look at the soul behind them. You’ll know I’m lying because I won’t be speaking to your soul, El.” He jerked away and opened the car door. I let out a rough exhale and followed. All four guys stood with an equal distance of space between them. The Eagle Elite uniforms looked foreign on them. Black pants. White button-down shirts with an eagle insignia on the pocket, with sleeves rolled up past their elbows and no jackets. I wondered if the reason they made us wear white was so the staff could see blood easier. I kept my head high as Andrei, gave me a once

over and winked. “Do that again,” Dante said in a low voice. “And you won’t like the results.” One of the guys to Andrei’s right snickered only to get smacked in the chest by Andrei. “We didn’t get a chance to speak last night,” Andrei said, his eyes roamed over me as if he had every right to look. He was attractive, some may even way hot, but his eyes were cold, and I knew what it was like to share a bed with someone who had no soul. They screwed you in order to steal yours. They were men who liked to have woman beneath them. Men who found their power in making others feel weak. They weren’t men at all. They were monsters. Dante reached out and gripped my hand in his, it was so unexpected I sucked in a sharp breath then squeezed back. “Didn’t know we actually needed introductions.” Dante spoke with deceptive calm. “I kicked your friend’s ass, then sent him to Hell

right along with—” he stopped himself. “Never mind, I’m sure it’s still a very sensitive subject.” Andrei’s jaw flexed. “You think you can say such things to me?” His accent came through, just enough for me to want to run in the other direction. “How does it feel…” Dante smirked. “To have a target on your back?” “Ask your father,” he spat. “Oh, wait.” Dante squeezed the life out of my fingers. “It seems…” Andrei tiled his head. “…that we both have reasons for wanting revenge, hmm?” I mentally willed Dante to calm the hell down. His other tell was silence, and it was more terrifying than his words. Silence meant he was thinking of all of the ways he could manipulate you — hurt you. I knew his silence well, not because it had ever been directed toward me, but because I watched him direct it toward Ike last night. And that hadn’t ended well. “Yes,” Dante hissed. “It looks like we both have the same reason to hate…”

“The only question is; are you my enemy or my friend?” “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He shrugged. “Or so it should appear, right?” Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Nicolasi. Where do you stand?” “Right in front of you.” Dante finally grinned. “You think I’d be here? You think I’d kill someone in cold blood for you, then turn on you?” Andrei seemed to relax at that, he held out his hand. Dante shook it with his free hand and released his grip on mine. Andrei nodded to the other guys. “This is Klaus.” He had an almost completely shaved head and a tattoo peeking out of his shirt near his right ear. I shivered. “Maksim,” Another guy nodded at us, he looked like he’d rather be shopping, his shirt was so tight it looked uncomfortable, and he was wearing sunglasses like he was a movie star in hiding. “And finally, little Ivan.” Ivan wasn’t little.

Ivan was… stocky. Around five ten and packing enough muscle to probably disarm someone by sitting on their chest. “Now you know our names.” Andrei shrugged. “That’s how friendship works, right?” “Absolutely.” Andrei turned his attention to me. I took a step toward Dante, he didn’t put a protective arm around me, instead he stood as still as a statue while Andrei took one step, then two until he was in my personal space. “And your name?” I assumed he already knew. He’d seen my tattoo. He saw who owned me. But that was the thing about the Russian mafia. My husband was killed in cold blood, which meant I was nobody’s. Because nobody had claimed me. Yet. I gulped. “You know exactly who I am, Andrei Petrov.” I said his full name on purpose.

I’d met him once. My eyes had been swollen nearly shut from a beating. And he’d laughed and told my husband at the time to do whatever he could to keep me silent. Loyal. Heartless. Maybe that was why it had taken me a while to recognize him. Because my brain refused to acknowledge that this man, this very dangerous man with even more dangerous connections was in the same city as me. Same University. “You do not belong to the Italians.” His voice was threatening. Dante snorted out a laugh. “Yeah well neither do I, looks like we’re both trapped, why else would I be screwing her under their roof? The spoils of war, Andrei.” His eyes locked on me. “She’s mine.” “Pity, I would have liked to take her back where she belongs.” I tried not to puke. To react. Where I belonged in his mind was chained to a

bed. Ivan spoke up. “Andrei,” He pointed to his watch. Andrei gave Dante one last once over before he put on his sunglasses. “You’ll eat with us.” “We’ll see,” Dante said. Klaus looked between them like he was waiting for Andrei to pull a gun or punch Dante, instead Andrei smiled and put an arm around Dante. “I like you.” “Most people do,” Dante said in an amused voice. “You don’t take shit,” Andrei added. “I’m better at giving it.” Andrei barked out a laugh one more time and slapped him on the back. “Eh, eat with us, don’t eat with us, just come back tonight.” “Another fight?” “Fighting. Food. Fucking.” Andrei shrugged. “It’s all the same to us—” His jerked his attention to me again. “You can bring your girl if you want, just remember, if another member wants her — you have to at least let them look — even if they can’t

touch.” “I’ll think about it.” Dante smiled blandly, while Andrei and the rest of the guys walked off. I was still shaking from the exchange when Dante grabbed my hand again and led me toward my first class. When my legs wouldn’t cooperate, he pulled me behind a large oak tree and pressed me against it. “Hold yourself together, El, you’re stronger than this shit.” His blue eyes searched mine. “All right?” I sucked in a large breath and gave him a jerky nod. “He…he,” I could barely get the words out. “He saw me one night after Xavier beat me, he laughed.” Dante slammed his hand into the tree, his jaw popped as he gritted his teeth together and then calm washed over him as he whispered near my ear, “Want me to kill him?” A few people walked by and stared at us, it looked like he was kissing my neck, like we were normal college students sharing a moment. Nope. Wrong story, kiddos. He just offered to kill someone for offending

me, run along, nothing to see here. “After,” I said. “Kill him after he stops being useful to you, to the bosses.” I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth, what I was agreeing to. “Yes.” Dante pulled back, his face broke out into a smile. “How messed up is it that I’m actually looking forward to that moment?” I gulped. “It’s in your blood.” “I wish it wasn’t,” he said gruffly. “I wish I didn’t crave it — dream about it — almost as much as I wish I didn’t feel guilt every day because of it.” I sighed and put my hands on his chest, then ran them up around his neck, he didn’t move, or flinch, so maybe we were having a moment as our mouths almost touched. “The only shame in life, is not being who you were truly born to be. If that means you kill the bad guys — kill the bad, guys Dante. Just don’t lose your soul in the process.” “And if it’s already gone?” He croaked his eyes darkening as he slowly leaned in until his forehead touched mine. Days ago I would have been terrified that his

body was this close. Days ago, I would have shoved him away and run. Days ago, I would have shuddered that his bloodstained hands were running up and down my skin. But today. Today was different. Today I closed my eyes and drank in the wicked scent of Dante Nicolasi, the cologne mixed with soap. I inhaled. And opened my eyes again. Yesterday I was angry. I was afraid. Today. Against the tree. Pinned by Dante’s arms. I was safe. “I’ll help you find it,” I whispered. “Just don’t damn yourself in the process, El.” He cupped my face with his right hand, his eyes fell to my mouth, his half-lidded seductive look could stop a girl dead in her tracks. The wives always talked about how attractive his father was, even at an older age.

Almost like he’d aged backward. Dante was no different. If it was possible for a human to get more attractive by the day — he’d be the one to prove you right. “Are you going to kiss me again?” I asked hopefully. “No.” He pulled away. My heart sank into my stomach. “Because I don’t want to start something I have no intention of stopping.” My head jerked, our eyes locked, and I saw it. The honesty. “Told you I’d never lie to you, El.” His voice had a warning edge to it, like I shouldn’t push him, push whatever invisible boundaries he’d mentally set up between us. His eyes never left mine. And I knew, this was what he looked like when he was telling the truth. His eyes pierced through my defenses in an unapologetic search for my heart, my soul. And I let them. “We should get to class.” I finally found my

voice and started walking, he fell into step beside me. And I spent the rest of the day thinking about the non-kiss. And the promise that came with it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dante I

SHOULD HAVE

been thinking about business —

about the art of warfare, keeping your enemies closer than blood. Instead, I was thinking of El’s mouth. Her lips mainly, and the way they curved into the most stunning smile I’d ever seen when she was happy. The way her tongue slid across her bottom lip, wetting it just enough to make her look like a damn feast for my eyes.

I would have kissed her. I wouldn’t have stopped. I was the guy you wanted on your side in a war. I was the guy that killed the guy you hated. I was the guy who bled for you. I was not the guy who just kissed and walked away. I honestly wasn’t sure I had it in me. And I knew if I kissed her again, if it happened, everything would snap. My focus would be gone. It was already complete shit and all I had were the memories of what she tasted like, right along with the feel of her ass pressed against me in that damn pantry. She belonged to someone else. Would belong to someone else. And I would be the biggest prick alive if I took what wasn’t mine to take just because I wanted to taste her again. The guy who kissed her next, needed to be a guy who didn’t have blood on his hands, a guy who didn’t enjoy this side of the mafia.

A guy who didn’t live this life. I tortured myself another hour before my last class and tried not to take it out on her on the way home. Which was harder — in every way — when one of the buttons on her shirt came loose exposing her lacy powder blue bra just at the precise moment that I turned to ask her a question. I almost murdered three mailboxes on the way back to the house. And was gripping the steering wheel so tight I’m surprised my fingers hadn’t developed a type of lockjaw against the leather. “Are you… okay?” El asked before opening her door. I stared down at the steering wheel, not trusting myself to look down her shirt. “Yup.” “Dante…” My dick twitched, treacherous bastard. “Yeah?” “We’re friends… right? I mean, still friends?” “Yes, El.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, then grabbed my back pack from the backseat just as she dropped a pen from her bag

and bent over right the hell in front of me. “Leave it,” I barked. She looked up, didn’t stand, just looked up, on her knees, in front of me, I was never getting that vision out of my head, great more things to fantasize about. I needed people to kill. I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes, and just walked around her, leaving her in the perfect position for me to drop my pants in front of her. Maybe that was best. Just make her feel like a cheap whore, get her to hate me forever like she used to, and move on. Except. The thought of treating her that way. Of her thinking I even thought that. Made me sicker than when I had to shoot Ike last night. So, I let the door slam behind me and made my way into the kitchen only to find Chase staring into a bottle of red wine. “Kinda early, Chase.” I swiped the bottle and

started chugging. I stopped after a few gulps then slammed it down on the counter. “Drinking at four in the afternoon, not normal Dante behavior…” Chase grinned. “I mean, I’m not one to judge, I treat water like wine as every good Italian should, but something got you… hard up?” “I see why Nixon’s always threatening to shoot you now. I really get it.” I reached for the bottle again, but he scooted it away and crossed his bulky tatted arms. “So? Who’s the girl?” “Girl?” “Guy?” He looked confused. “Llama?” “You’re a jackass.” I reached behind him, he blocked me with one of his ninja tricks just as El made her way into the room, took one look at us, and charged right on by. “Huh.” Chase let me get the wine this time. “It’s not what you think,” I grumbled. “So, you’re not the reason for the missing button?” His amused expression wasn’t helping my mood at all. “The one near the top, is that bra,

blue?” I reached into my back pocket pulled out my knife and held it to his throat at the same time he pointed a gun at my chin. “Damn it.” “Still faster.” With his free hand he grabbed the wine and poured it into a waiting glass, the gun still pressed to my chin, he drank and then sighed happily. “So, you like her?” “No,” I lied. “You’re holding me at knife point because I commented on the color of her bra.” “Say it again, I dare you,” I snapped. “Blue.” He laughed as a trickle of blood ran down his throat where I held the knife. Nixon walked in, took one look at us, rolled his eyes and walked off. You’d think this would concern him. I think it just made him jealous he wasn’t a part of the pissing match. Damn mafia. Chase pulled the gun away, his eyebrows shot up. I relented and shoved my knife back into my pocket.

“So, we have guests tonight,” Chase said changing the subject like we hadn’t both been ready to attack each other. “Try not to pull any knives on them.” “You’re the only one lucky enough to piss me off on a daily basis.” I stole his glass and gave him the middle finger. Chase laughed loudly, then handed me the whole bottle. “Honestly, I think I’m going to really enjoy this.” “What?” Dread filled my stomach. “One of our cousins is here, I think he’d be great for El.” I spit out the wine into the sink and wiped my mouth. “Bullshit. What? I thought it was going to take weeks? Didn’t you say days this morning? Days until one of them came into town?” Chase shrugged. “He had business, decided to come early, we invited him into our lovely home—” “Never say lovely again.” “LOVELY!” Chase yelled loudly. “Besides, the sooner she gets under someone’s protection, the safer she is.” His expression sobered. “She doesn’t

want in this life anymore. And we’re able to give her that choice,” He slapped me on the shoulder. “So try not to kill the lucky bastard, eh?” I swore. “No promises.” “Yeah well, I’ll tell Nixon to dig a hole just in case.” “Make it deep,” I murmured.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

El SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING on the bathroom door. Which would have been weird if I wasn’t fully aware of the someone and the room connected to it. I jerked it open. To see Dante staring at me, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and a smile. I kept my eyes focused on his face. And tried not to let them linger too long on his mouth or anywhere below his chin where I knew

there would be chunky abs and a V that dipped deep into his pants. My eyes followed the direction of my thoughts, I didn’t even realize I was staring until one finger tilted my chin back up. At least he looked more amused than offended, while my face heated to a painful degree. You’d think I’d never seen a naked man before. Then again, my husband hadn’t ever… let me touch him in any way, I was there for his pleasure. Not my own. And most of the time, I was taken swiftly, in every way that made it possible for him to get off while I never even got to look into his eyes. I shoved the memory away. Along with the feelings of his hands on me. Well at least I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Numb again. One more parting gift from him I supposed. “So,” Dante shoved his hands in his pockets. “Since we’re friends… I thought I’d give you a fair warning.” My stomach leaped into my throat with all the

possibilities of what he could be talking about. “That jackass of a cousin is coming to dinner tonight, the one they want you to marry.” I made a face. “Exactly.” Dante scowled. “I just didn’t want you to get blindsided.” “Can’t I just…” I licked my lips and then braced my hands against the doorframe, he took a cautious step back like he was afraid I was going to lunge my body at him. “Can’t I just change my identity? Move?” He sighed, then gave me a pitiful look that parents give children when they explain that Santa isn’t real and that the Easter Bunny doesn’t crap chocolate. “Want the sugar-coated version?” “Never,” I retorted. He nodded, respect shone in his eyes. “There is nowhere you can go where they won’t find you. Nowhere you can go where I won’t be able to find you. They have people everywhere just like us, we have the FBI in our pockets, El, don’t be stupid enough to believe they don’t have people too. The only way out of this is in… you’re part of this life

now, but it’s your choice how much of it you want a part of. You can run — they like a good chase. Or you can marry some boring ex associate who likes to watch Netflix at night rather than wash blood off his hands. Your choice.” My head snapped up. “What’s your favorite movie?” He frowned. “Did you hear anything I just said?” “Yeah, I run, I get chased, blood, death. You must marry. No arguing.” “And your only question is about movies?” “You said Netflix.” “I was making a point.” “Right and now I’m asking what your favorite movie is.” His expression went from hardened criminal to sexy as hell and half-naked — again. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” I held out my hand. Dante looked down, gripped hard, then jerked me against his warm chest, whispering in my ear so soft it tickled the hair at the back of my neck.

“Newsies.” I gasped. He jerked away and winked. “You promised. I take promises very seriously, they’re basically blood oaths, you break your promise and I kill you.” “Not if I kill you first.” “Empty threats.” He smirked. “Do you even know how to use a gun?” I shrugged. “Maybe one day you’ll find out.” He licked his lips, took a purposeful step toward me until we were both standing in my room. Tension swirled around us. A knock sounded at my door. He squeezed my hand then turned around and quietly shut the bathroom door behind him, just as I opened my bedroom door. Nixon was standing there with Trace. He was holding their baby in one arm, and the bottle in the other. “How was school?” I glared past him then shook my head. “I lived to see another day.” He smirked while Trace rolled her eyes and

pointed at him as if to say sorry, he’s turned into a dad now. “So,” She stepped around him while he fed the baby. “We have company tonight.” “Yeah Dante filled me in.” Nixon’s eyes narrowed while Trace looked hopeful. “He’s sweet, I promise.” Sweet. I used to want sweet. I’d already slept with the devil. I deserved an angel, right? So why did the angel have Dante’s dark features and light eyes. “Yeah, okay, thanks… I’ll get ready.” “It’s going to be fine,” Nixon said gruffly. “This is the only way.” “I know,” I nodded. “And thank you.” They left. And I sat on my bed, feeling… empty. The door to the bathroom clicked open, and suddenly Dante was in my room, sitting on my bed and pulling open a laptop. Newsies was playing. The music filled my room. “We have time,” he encouraged.

But we didn’t. Not really. Because one day, he would knock on that bathroom door. And I would be gone. Nothing but a nice memory. Of a girl who asked for his friendship. Of a girl who was starving for human contact. And the man who was both monster and savior — who gave it to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dante HIS NAME WAS Chris. What the hell kind of Italian name was Chris? I hated him already. It was a completely irrational feeling. Deep down in the darkness of my chest where my heart attempted to make me feel things — I knew, I knew he’d done nothing wrong but get saddled with a Chris when he should have at least been a… I glanced back at him again and tilted my

head as I memorized his features. Maybe he was a Chris. Maybe I was over thinking it. Because Chris was the guy you took home to your parents. God, his button-down shirt looked like it had been ironed a dozen times. His red tie tight around his neck like he was going to a funeral. At least he wasn’t still in his blazer. A fucking blazer. It was blue. He literally showed up at our house looking like an American flag, maybe that was on purpose — he wanted to look like the American dream? A perfect American little husband? I scowled while Nixon continued introducing him to the rest of the family. I’d been sitting at that table for the last five minutes wondering how long it would take El to politely send him on his way. “You look beautiful.” Chris reached for her hand and kissed it in front of everyone and then casually sat and laid a hand on the chair she was sitting in like he was ready to wrap his arm around her.

Like he had a right to. He didn’t even know her! “How old are you?” I asked, careful to keep the strain from my voice right along with the disgust and jealousy. His brown eyes lit up. “I just turned twenty-six.” He turned back to El. I wasn’t finished. “What do you do for a living?” Chase snickered into his cup before Nixon gave him a cut it out look. Chris’s left eyebrow arched at me, like he was amused with my questions. “Maybe we should just get this over with.” “What do you mean?” I would kick his ass in a fight, I had at least thirty pounds of muscle on his lean Chris-like frame. He removed his hand from El’s chair, some of the tension left my body, and then he was grabbing his wine and talking again. “I’m a VP at my father’s clean energy corporation and have a few holdings in Italy, I graduated with my masters in international business, can speak French, Spanish,

Portuguese, and Russian fluently — and I’m a Pisces, anything else?” Glaring, I clenched my teeth. “Sounds good to me.” Chase nodded in appreciation. “Right, Dante?” He grinned at the rest of the table. “Protective brothers, am I right?” I choked on my water and almost spit it across the table directly into Chris’s face. Chase smacked me on the back. “Right,” I said hoarsely. “Protective brother…” My eyes found El’s and locked on, she gulped and suddenly found the napkin in her lap more interesting than the way that Chris tried to get closer to her. “So,” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for, coming… tonight.” “I was in town for business, it seemed prudent to at least meet, don’t you think?” Did he just say prudent? Meet? Longest night of my life. “Where are we on the whole dinner situation?” I asked the table.

“Thought we were waiting on Mil?” Nixon nodded to Chase. “She say how long she was going to be?” Chase’s lips pressed together in a firm line before he shrugged. I knew that look, it was the same one he wore before he asked to spar with me a few nights ago. “You know women — let’s just eat without her.” Nixon frowned. “You sure?” “Positive,” Chase snapped as another pop of tension expanded around the room. He took another long gulp of wine and slammed the glass back onto the table hard enough for it to shatter. Frank and Sergio shared a look before Frank stood and said a blessing. Tex and Mo took their seats. And my sister stared at me from her spot at the far end of the table as if I was a stranger. She was doing that a lot lately like I was some sort of puzzle that was missing every single piece needed to make it complete. We were another five minutes into the meal when Tex tossed a roll at my head. I caught it midair and flipped him off. “Nice try.”

“Man your reflexes are getting so much better, last time I did that you got jam on your chin.” “Last time you did that, you’d just beat the shit out of me and my eye was swollen shut,” I countered amidst the male chuckles around the table. “Look at you now! All grown up…” “Yup last night I shot someone without crying and everything, so grown up.” I scowled. Everyone fell silent. Chris paled across from me, his throat bobbed like he was having trouble swallowing. “No business during dinner,” Frank warned from his seat in the middle. He’d barely touched his food and was already on another glass of wine. In fact, most everyone was drinking more than they were eating. Everyone except Chris, who dug into his food with such vigor I was concerned he was going to suffocate from lack of oxygen. I grabbed the roll Tex had thrown and tore off a piece, it tasted like cardboard in my mouth and my chewing was just loud enough to make it difficult to

hear what Chris was saying to El. Her face flushed. I clenched my hand around the roll. “Has the roll offended you?” Chase teased, but the minute he saw the direction I was looking he sobered and said quietly. “We’ll spar tonight, yeah?” “I’ve got plans.” “With enemies or friends?” “Both.” I dropped the roll onto my plate and sighed. “Keep me updated.” He turned and whispered something to Nixon who made a signal to Tex while Phoenix wrote something down in one of his damn folders. Secrets. So many secrets. And the fact that Mil wasn’t there just added to the tension. As if I conjured her up, Chase reached into his pocket and glared down at his phone. “Be right back.” Phoenix grabbed a bottle of wine, then took Chase’s empty seat, he leaned back and winked at

his wife while his left hand dipped under the table. I followed it with mine and grabbed the piece of paper just as he released it and stood. “What’s for dessert.” “Wine.” Tex eyed the bottle in Phoenix’s hand while the wives all shared a look of displeasure. Mo elbowed Tex. “What?” “Eat.” She shoveled lasagna onto his plate and then froze. “Oh shit I sound like a mom.” “Eat, eat,” Nixon said in a thick accent before snorting out a laugh. Tex gave Nixon a challenging stare before grabbing Mo’s hand and kissing the inside of her palm. “I’ll eat later…” “More wine,” Nixon snapped his fingers while Sergio chuckled into his glass. “Oh please, we all heard you and Val last week in the laundry room.” I started choking on my bread while Val blushed across from me. “Freaking love family dinners,” Bee announced. Phoenix leaned over and kissed her cheek, then said something under his breath and kissed her neck

below her ear. “Hey, hey!” Tex waved his glass in the air. “None of that at the table.” I sighed and hung my head. I was surrounded by horny couples and my bleak future sat right across from me in the form of a Chris who probably wore white briefs and watched America’s Got Talent — hell the closest that guy had probably ever been to a gun was while watching his weekly recordings of dateline. I shoved my plate away, it made a grating nose across the large wood table. I felt like a petulant child when Val gave me a murderous look. Please I was allowed to be immature, I was only twenty. Give me a break. Trace scooted her chair out. “Chris why don’t you hang out with the men for a bit while we go clean up.” Nixon frowned. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to clean shit, let the guys get it.” The guys, me included, groaned in unison. “Maybe the dish soap will help wash the blood from our hands,” Chase said as he waltzed back

into the room, face indifferent. “I’ll wash if Nixon dries.” “Hey I get to dry!” Tex argued. “Last time I washed I almost drowned.” “Maybe don’t get drunk next time,” Phoenix piped up. Frank stood. “I’ll wash.” More groaning. “I’d love to help!” Chirpy Chris said. Yup that was going to be his new name, Chirpy Chris. God, I wanted to punch him in the throat so bad my fist burned. “Easy tiger,” Sergio whispered under his breath as he stood and pointed me toward the kitchen. “Your jealousy’s showing.” “I’m not jealous.” He snorted. “Right, you just keep reaching for your knife to make sure it hasn’t dislodged itself from your extreme sitting?” “You’re a pain in my ass.” He laughed. “Ah but at least I’ll keep your secret — not that it matters since the guys are about to clue in real soon if you keep clenching

both fists like you’re about to charge her.” I exhaled loudly and said through clenched teeth. “His name is Chris.” At that Sergio laughed so loud we earned weird looks from Nixon and Tex. Sergio laughing was still a weird thing to witness — he’d been dealt a shitty blow and still had lingering guilt over it — but mainly his constant stress was bringing Val into a world he wished she never had to see. And for that, I couldn’t hate him. Not when I saw the way he touched her. Cared for her. “Dante, you helping?” Tex chucked a towel in my direction, I caught it mid-air and sighed, then twisted it into a whip and snapped it in his direction. The towel connected with his thigh. He cursed. More towels were dispensed. And war was started. It was almost too easy with them. Dishes forgotten. We all took cover. And poor Chris was defenseless.

I smirked at him. Game on.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

El THE

WIVES AS

I liked to call them — were all

intimidating in their own right — each of them gorgeous in their own unique way with their olive Italian skin and strong tempers. They were equally matched with men who loved them fiercely and would do anything — kill anyone — in their honor. I didn’t understand that kind of love and a part of me was thankful, because if I did, I’d be insanely jealous sitting there with women who had it all —

when all I had were emotional and physical scars. “El,” Trace interrupted my morose thoughts. Her soft brown eyes locked on me. “What did you think of Chris?” I think his name is Chris and he has a nice smile. “He’s… nice.” And he was. There was nothing wrong with him physically and he kept a nice conversation even with Dante staring daggers at him from across the table, more than once I was worried Dante was actually going to leap across the dinner rolls and strangle Chris for breathing. Dante hid his anger well — so I wasn’t sure what had snapped loose in his brain other than the fact that he didn’t like the idea of me being stuck with someone like Xavier again. But Chris was my dead husband’s exact opposite. Xavier had been covered in tattoos from his hands all the way up to his shoulders, he liked to inflict pain, and he got off from being in control. Chris on the other hand, seemed like the kind of guy who would want sex in one position, with the

lights off. It would be over in minutes and I’d probably be able to feign a headache at least every five to seven days meaning he wouldn’t touch me. And if I pushed it further, I could probably escape without having to even share a bedroom with him. Another prison where at least I was able to call the shots and didn’t have to worry about a man’s hands on me, controlling me. Laughter sounded from the kitchen. Mo rolled her eyes. “Tex is losing again.” She elbowed Val. “Your boy Dante is relentless.” Val snickered. “I warned Tex last time not to get into a towel war with him, guy’s way too competitive to lose.” “Take your shirts off,” Bee said under her breath and then looked over at me innocently. “Oh, I’m sorry did I say that out loud?” “Can’t even blame pregnancy hormones anymore either.” Trace sighed happily. “But I know the feeling.” More sighing. The guys were a sight.

I didn’t blame them for wanting their husbands shirtless. But it was Dante who took his off first. I sucked in a dizzying breath as the wives gaped. “That man just gets prettier and prettier,” Mo said in an appreciative voice. “Remember when he first got here? And Chase got pissed because Mil couldn’t remember her name?” “You exaggerate.” Val laughed. I turned back to them. “She seriously forgot her name?” “Oh, I’m sorry.” Mo grinned. “Have you not noticed how dead sexy that man is? I’m pretty sure even Nixon was ready to force him into Frank’s house so he wouldn’t worry about Trace staring.” Trace rolled her eyes. “I’ve got my man doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate whatever God did right with that one.” “Amen.” Bee lifted her glass as they all fell into fits of laughter. More yelling from the kitchen. Tex charged Dante. Dante laughed and dodged out of the way as

more water went flying around the room, a dish fell crashing against the floor and then Nixon was attacking Phoenix who was already striping off his shirt to make a new towel like weapon. It was complete chaos. It was happiness. Chris stood in the corner unsure of what to do with his hands. I mentally groaned and slapped a hand over my face as Dante moved casually through the kitchen, dripping wet all over the hard wood his blue eyes were so clear, so light, they sucked you in, mesmerized and held on for dear life. “God that man’s abs,” one of the girls said behind me; I didn’t know who, I was too focused on abs. On a smile that promised lights on. And lots of dirty, sexy sex. He stopped in front of me, droplets of water slid down his chest, across his perfect abs, and fell into the front of his low-slung jeans. I gulped. “Ladies, it seems I’m losing, I came over to…”

He licked his lips. I could have sworn one of the girls sighed again. “Recruit.” “In!” Trace jumped to her feet and then all the girls were charging into the kitchen amidst yells and cursing from the guys. “You don’t play fair,” I said in a breathy voice that had me wanting to disappear into the couch. Dante reached for my hand, the same hand Chris had kissed. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed an open hot kiss to my wrist, one where I could feel the swirl of his tongue, and the heat of his lips. His half-hooded gaze lifted to my face, he dropped my hand. “Never.” I almost collapsed at his feet. One kiss on the wrist and I was owned. That’s all it took for a man like Dante to shatter your world. He turned around and made his way back into the kitchen, rejoining the fights, and I watched every laugh, I watched as a room full of mob bosses, assassins, played with dishwater while the oldest of them all drank straight from the bottle. I watched Family.

And for the first time since I was a little girl. I hoped. And I wanted. Chris caught my gaze and slowly made his way over to me. “Can I see you again?” Dante’s muscled body moved just past Chris. He didn’t want me — at least not in the way he would need to want me… and I refused to be stuck in a situation where I fell in love with someone — only to have them tolerate me because it was their job to protect me. Dante was a wild card. Chris. He was safe. So I nodded my head, and when Chris reached for my hand and held it, I let him. Even when I could see Dante’s murderous expression across the room. I wasn’t his. I would never be his. We both knew it. We just had to accept it. I hung my head and said softly. “Let me give you my number.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dante “YOU CAN’T COME!” I threw up my hands then braced myself against the counter. Chris was gone, thank God, and the rest of the family had left an hour ago. I knew Andrei was expecting me. And if I wanted in. If I wanted to find out what the hell was going on, I needed to go, but the little shit said girls were shared.

“No,” I repeated. El’s face fell. “I can help you.” “This is news to me, all right, I’ll bite, what can you do other than stand there and make the wall paper look pretty?” She put her hands on her narrows hips. “You mean the blood-stained wall paper?” “You’d be an improvement.” “That a compliment, Dante?” I sucked in a breath. Damn I loved the way her lips moved when she said my name, could almost taste her mouth when she was standing this close. She sighed and took another step forward, until our bodies grazed one another, until I swayed toward her because I was tired — and weak, and wanted to touch what wasn’t mine. Maybe I was more like my dad than I thought. Because this woman wasn’t mine to want. And that still didn’t stop me from imagining all the ways I could have her in my bed — in my arms. The worst part? I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt over the daydreams that paraded around in my head — the ones where I had her naked, panting, ready for

me. While I set Chris’s car on fire. “Look,” I breathed. “You’ll be a distraction.” “Exactly.” She beamed. “I’ll distract them too!’’ “The hell you will.” I growled gripping her arm only to release my hold. “Sorry, I just — that’s a really bad idea.” “If you’re distracted with me and… things.” She gulped. “Then they’ll be distracted, when you’re talking with them I can snoop around. It’s a two person job, Dante.” I rolled my eyes. “We don’t even know what the job is, other than Andrei clearly followed us from New York and set up camp.” “Exactly! There has to be a reason he’s here and not there.” The woman had a point. “I’m going to regret this. And I’m going to get killed,” I muttered under my breath as she beamed up at me. “Go change into something black, something tight, something sexy. Yeah I’m regretting this.” “This isn’t sexy?” She frowned down at her

ripped jeans and T-shirt. “Nice bait.” I pressed my lips together in a firm line. “I’m not taking it by the way, I have a sister I know how this conversation ends.” “How?” “With a knife impaled in my aorta.” “Maybe you are smarter than you look.” “Not taking that bait either. Not engaging,” I said in a bored tone. “Go change.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, I’ll wear something sexy, you’ve been warned there’s a reason I don’t wear nice things.” “Oh, why’s that?” She crossed her arms. “It puts me in a bad mood when they get dirty and he—” She paled a bit. “He used to dress me up for his associates… and then I’d have to go wait… sometimes for hours and then the dress was never worn again.” I tried to keep my rage in check, for her sake, so I didn’t scare her. “Why?” “Because he was almost always covered in someone else’s blood when he came to bed.” “I wish he was alive so I could chop off his dick

and feed it to him while I cut his heart out.” She jerked back and then pointed toward the hall. “I think I’ll go get that dress now.” “Do that.” I gritted my teeth and braced my body against the counter. Breathe in, breathe out. No wonder she wanted a Chris. Chris wouldn’t dream about her husband’s death and wake up with a smile on his face. Chris would shit himself if he saw blood. I shit myself if I don’t see it. I craved it. El deserved better than my shaking hands — the same ones who imagined what bliss it would be to choke out the very man who thought he had a fucking right to touch her — with anything but goodness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Dante I KEPT MY eyes on the road. I kept my breathing even. With great difficulty. I existed next to El and The Dress. With great difficulty. She’d taken my advice to heart, and now I referred to The Dress as its own tangible thing. It was the dresses fault that I was having trouble focusing, that I kept seeing flashes of her thighs and

imagining

them

wrapped

around

my

body

squeezing me tight until I felt nothing but her heat pulsing with every beat of my wicked heart. She cleared her throat. I cleared mine. Like a genius on his first date. “Remember,” I pulled into campus and parked the car, my movements jerky and awkward. “Any guy touches you and you use the knife.” “What knife?” “The one I’m giving you.” “Oh okay.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m really not sure about this.” “I can do it.” She covered my hand with hers. I finally looked at her. She was wearing makeup. She never wore makeup, her eyes were outlined, her face was soft. She’d been breathtaking before and it had always bothered me how afraid she was of her own beauty. And now she was highlighting it for the world to see. For me to see.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. I meant it. You’d think I slapped her with how stunned her expression was, like she’d never heard anyone say that phrase out loud and actually mean it, or maybe like nobody had ever said it out loud without wanting something in return. “Thank you.” Her eyes searched mine. The tension in the car doubled. I took a steadying breath. “We should go.” “Yes.” Her eyelashes were so long I wondered what it would be like to get closer, to be near them, yeah if her eyelashes were doing that much to me I was in deep shit. It was physically painful to tear my gaze away from her face, to go through the motion of opening my car door and making sure my gun was snug in the back of my pants. I assumed they wouldn’t pat me down since there wasn’t any fighting, unless they fought every night, but campus was pretty quiet. I gripped one of my pocketknives in my right hand as El made her way around the car and waited.

“Here,” I tossed it to her. She caught it midair. “Do I just hold it?” I stared, and kept staring. I think I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” “Do I hold it?” “What else would you do with it? Eat it?” Was this real? Did she really not know what to do with a knife? She’d given me the impression she did. Wearing a scowl, she marched over to me. “I know how to use a knife you jackass.” I smirked at that maybe I liked being called an ass more than my own name, or maybe I just liked to see the fire in her eyes when she said it. “I just don’t know where to put it, I don’t exactly have pockets and I’m not wearing a bra.” “Shit!” My cursing had everything to do with the fact that I was imagining her topless and nothing to do with the problem of no hiding place. “Are you…” I shouldn’t have brought her. It was a giant mistake. “Are you wearing underwear?” Her cheeks pinked a bit before she gave me a jerky nod. “Thank God.” And I meant it. I grabbed the

knife from her hands and knelt in front of her. “Don’t move.” She stilled. I reached under her dress, my right hand grazed her thigh, when I came into contact with whatever lacy thing she was wearing I almost ripped them with my fingers then imagined doing the same thing with my teeth. She trembled from my touch. I fought like hell to keep myself from doing something neither of us could take back as I fumbled with the closed knife and very carefully opened it slightly to fold it over the side of her underwear near her thigh, she would have to be careful but at least it was hidden. The knife was secure. But my brain was having a hell of a time trying to convince my hands to move away from her hot skin. I gripped her ass with both hands, moaned, pressing my face between her thighs as I took a deep breath and just existed. And when she ran her hands over my head, her

fingers digging into my scalp, playing with my hair. I almost died a thousand deaths. Finally, painfully, I moved my hands and stood. We were chest to chest, her breathing about as erratic as mine and I wondered if I pressed my palm to the skin on her chest, would her heart be beating as wild? Would it match the cadence of mine? Would it matter? I took a step back and held out my hand. “Use the knife if you have to.” “Okay,” she said, voice weak. We walked in silence all the way back to The Spot. A guy waited at the door, he must have recognized me from the night before because he let us both in. Music pumped through the room. The damn thrones were back in their spots. Alcohol was everywhere. And so were drugs. “Think we found the cocaine and heroin,” I whispered against her hair before gripping her hand and weaving us further into the crowds.

People were draped around each other, pressing each other against walls, drinking, partying. It was basically an all-night orgy. Only the guys on the thrones had guns. And everyone seemed to be performing for them. Like a giant fucked up circus act for their entertainment. At the bottom of the stairs there were two couples going at it pretty hot and heavy only to stop when Andrei pointed his gun at them and told them to move out of the way. Once El and I reached the top I could see better. A few card tables were set up behind the thrones, people played, gambled, probably lost their parents’ fortunes, owed each other favors. Eagle Elite politics never stayed within the school walls, these students would grow up to be leaders around the world, leaders who owed so many tiny little favors who held secrets as their power, it was a dangerous game to encourage. And it made someone like Andrei very powerful.

One of the chairs nearest him was empty. I sat, and tugged El onto my lap. “Didn’t think you would make it, Nicolasi.” Andrei sounded bored, then again, he’d seen too much to be entertained by mere kids making out in front of him and getting high. It wasn’t our world. He knew that as much as I did. This wasn’t shocking. Death was shocking. It was our reality. So when a freshman got in a fight with a senior and didn’t even draw blood, I kind of understood the boredom. “Where did you get the drugs?” I asked a few minutes after the fight as El stilled on my lap. Ivan was the one who answered. “Drugs are drugs, does it matter?” “It matters if each of you are getting a cut and I’m not,” I said plainly. Andrei chuckled. “Needing some money are you?” “You know how it works,” I shrugged. “It’s

never enough, besides, I thought you knew?” He turned his face to me. “I’m not a boss.” His smile fell. “Not yet.” “Maybe never, I have to prove myself, like I said, you know how it works.” Maksim and Ivan shared a look before Andrei nodded at them, they walked off. “Why don’t you send your girl away while we talk business?” El stood and then leaned over and kissed me on the neck. “See you later.” “Incredible.” Andrei snorted. “In all the years that whore spread her legs for Xavier, I never saw him kiss her — though I saw other things…” He laughed. The bastard laughed. Keeping my anger under control was turning into an impossibility, especially where El was concerned. “I used to hear her screams,” he said casually. “He loved to take her from behind—” I stood, pulled my gun and pointed it at his temple. “I don’t hesitate, and I don’t give second

chances, say any more shit about my girl and your bloody hand print’s going to be next.” He held up his hands and laughed. “I’m sorry did the truth offend you?” “Not at all,” I said coolly. “It was the way you said it — you don’t disrespect what’s mine.” “Not yours yet,” he answered back, calm as shit. “Am I right? She’s not even truly under your protection, I see no ring on her finger, I see no Italian name attached to her. Until then, she’s fair game, you know how it works. What happens when she’s alone? When your gun isn’t here to protect her? I’ll tell you what happens… the past repeats itself, besides.” He grinned. “She’s tasted Mother Russia, what the hell would she go back to Little Italy?” The only reason I didn’t shoot him was because I needed him for information. I jerked the gun away and sat. “You’ve got balls,” Andrei said. “I like that.” “You like my balls. I don’t swing that way.” He stopped smirking, nostrils flared. “You want in on the drugs you have to do me a favor.”

It was what I needed. More information. To dive deeper in to whatever operation they had and break it from the inside out. “Depends on the favor.” His eyes trained on El. “I want her.” “No.” I shrugged. “Pick a new favor.” “You didn’t let me finish.” I wasn’t going to like this. I knew it in my gut. I really shouldn’t have brought her. “She has a tattoo on her arm, she’s been branded,” He pointed to his forearm. “I want you to run a knife across it — she is no longer allowed to wear our bloody crown. And you know how these things work.” His cold eyes met mine. “Blood must always be spilled. A life for a life. You spill her blood, you do it now, and you’re in.” “How much are we talking?” “We have a silent partner.” He shrugged. “They get seventy we get thirty until we are in full operation again, the school protects us from the feds, and they funnel everything through their own

operation. We come off clean. It won’t get traced to you. Your cut’s ten mill.” Little did he know, the Nicolasi dynasty was worth almost one billion. I didn’t say that, kept that to myself. Only Phoenix knew how much we were worth. He kept the secrets. And dealt in favors. So, when I told him not to tell Val. I had to sign in my own blood that I’d do something for him when the time was right. “Give me a minute.” “No.” He gripped my arm. “You don’t get to warn her, that’s not how this works, Nicolasi. You do it now, or you leave.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

El I COULD FEEL Dante’s penetrating stare from across the room. I’d walked around for five minutes, nobody would talk to me nobody even acknowledged me. So basically, I was useless and in an uncomfortable dress that made me feel naked, with a knife plastered to my thigh. It was naive. To think that I could help Dante in any way by simply being by his side.

What was I doing? I’d wanted safe. I’d wanted Chris. And there I was, in the den of Hell with the one guy who was bad for me. I shuddered and looked up just in time to see Dante crook his finger. His movements were casual. His gaze heated — pissed. Andrei was still as a statue behind him, for the first time since I’d seen his eyes — they were alive — with excitement. I didn’t like his look or the evil way they glinted when I finally made my way over to Dante, only to have him grab my hand and squeeze it. “I’m sorry.” My heart sped up as he locked eyes with me and then very slowly ran his hand down my hip, touching where the knife was. I had no time to react as his mouth fused to mine, his tongue plundered, captured, dominated, until I stumbled backward, he caught me before I tripped his lips ran down my ear. “No choice.” I bit my lip and nodded.

“Be strong.” He set me on my feet and leaned down, his hand inching up my thigh as people started slowly circling around us. His fingers caught on my underwear and that look of awe was back in place, and then shut down like he had no choice but to be all business when his hands — his body was all about the pleasure. He pulled the knife free and stood. He didn’t turn around. He faced me. “Give me your arm,” he said in a low voice. Shaking, I gave him my right arm. “Not that one.” His eyes fell to my left, where I’d cheerfully set up enough bangles to cover the tattoo that marked me just like it marked Andrei. One by one, Dante pulled the silver bangles off. They dropped to the ground with the finality of a gunshot. The crown signified power. The blood signified the only way to stay in power. Sacrifice. Xavier was so proud when they gave him his

tattoo. I was sick. Would have rather been dead. “I’m going to take this from you,” Dante whispered, pointing the knife down in the middle of the crown. “It’s going to hurt.” “You’re going to… take it?” I repeated. “How —” He swore. The knife pierced my forearm and dug in. I barely held back my scream. The horror of what he was doing to me, hurting me just like him. Willing to do anything to be with them. Why did I keep telling myself Dante was different? I tried to jerk my arm free. Dante gripped my wrist so hard I was afraid I was going to have marks on my skin. Just like him. Abusive just like him. “No!” I shook my head. “Stop!” But he didn’t. He ran the edge of the knife along

my skin creating one long line across the crown, like it was getting pierced by my fresh blood. The cut wasn’t deep. It also wasn’t so shallow that I didn’t start bleeding immediately. It still felt like I was getting filleted alive. Dante finally stopped. His eyes locked on mine as he squeezed. Several drops of blood fell to the ground in swift succession. “The tattoo is drawn through — and blood has been spilled.” Andrei frowned. “She’s barely bleeding.” Speak for yourself asshole! “You said blood must be spilled, you never said how much, if you wanted a massacre you should have been specific, better yet, let me fight one of them and I’ll give you your blood.” He nodded at Maksim who backed up like he didn’t want a fight. “Fine.” Andrei nodded and then sat back down as the rest of the people around me continued their drinking and partying. “We’ll be in touch, enjoy the party.” And then he basically ignored the fact that I

was still bleeding and that Dante looked ready to kill. Fear wrapped around my heart like a vice, Dante let me jerk away from him, but not before wrapping an arm around me and leading me toward the door. “We’re going home.” “Are you insane?” I snapped. “I’m not getting in a car with you!” “Oh, okay.” His nostrils flared. “Should we just call an Uber and let you bleed all over it? You want to explain to Chase why you have a slit forearm?” “No, I think I’m going to enjoy watching you explain it to him!” I yelled, then raised my hand to slap him across the face. Dante caught my arm, his expression pained. “Let me go!” “Do you think I would ever intentionally hurt you?” He hissed. “You did! You are!” I finally pulled free and ran to the car as best I could. I wasn’t shaking from blood loss, I was shaking from something else. It felt a lot like fear and disappointment. Disappointment more than anything.

I’d done the unthinkable and softened myself to the enemy, to the monster. It had been easy to forget about the violence against others — the killing — until it was directed at me. Until his chilly gaze took mine in and the gauntlet fell. The door unlocked. I jerked open the door and slammed it. Dante didn’t get in the driver’s side. He opened the trunk, and then walked over to my side and opened the door. “What? You want to finish me off?” I spat. “You’re just like him! Just like them! I can’t believe I ever thought—” “Thought what?” Dante interrupted. “Go ahead, what? That I was good? That I’m capable of it? That I care?” He laughed humorously. “I’m just as fucked up as they are, I shot their friend and I liked it—” I sucked in a breath. “I liked it,” he repeated as if he was trying to convince himself more than me. “This isn’t a fairy tale, and if it was, I sure as hell wouldn’t be the prince.” Dante dug into a small black bag and grabbed

some antiseptic, then rubbed it down my long cut. White gauze followed until my entire forearm was wrapped up. It still stung but at least I wasn’t bleeding anymore. He slammed his hand against the car and cursed. “I had no choice.” “You mean you couldn’t have just said no? What? Too hard? Don’t want to lose your balls in front of them?” “You know…” His jaw ticked. “For being in the mafia as long as you were, you sure as hell don’t know how things work do you?” I crossed my arms and looked away. “It was either do what he asks, or leave in a body bag… Trust me, I did the calculations… I could maybe disarm him, shoot him before Maksim or Ivan made it over to me, but then it would be two against one and although I’m fairly confident I could take them — I have no idea if the rest of the students would be on their side, or mine. And then…” He swallowed back another curse. “Then, there was you. Maksim was two feet away from

you, would he use you as collateral or charge me first? I did the calculations. In every scenario, you were dead. In every scenario, I failed you.” His breath caught. “So, I did the hard thing — don’t lie and say you wouldn’t have done the same.” He shut the car door. We rode home in complete silence. And I hated him all over again. For being right. And making me feel like a fool. But not as much as I hated him for making me burn for his touch — when minutes ago — I’d been on the receiving end of his knife.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Dante BLOOD PUMPED THROUGH my veins as I hit the bag again and again until my body dripped with sweat. “Rough night?” Chase interrupted as he swaggered into the room and grabbed the bag as I continued to hit. I kicked the bag then threw a left hook. “You.” Right hook. “Could. ” Right hook. “Say that.” Chase let me fight my demons in silence. The sound of my fists hitting the bag was the

only soothing thing about living in that house. The fact that I could punch without having to worry about getting punched back. I finally sagged against the bag, pressing my forehead to the cool leather. “I think I lost her.” Chase let out a little laugh. “Wow, amazing you think you had her in the first place.” I glared. “I mean it, man. I’m stuck between trying to show them my loyalty and having her caught in the middle, I shouldn’t have let her go with me.” “Ah.” Chase nodded as if he understood. “Let me guess, you’re under the assumption she makes you weak.” I stayed silent. “I guess that could be true — only if you let it,” Chase said in that annoyingly bossy voice of his that reminded me of Frank more and more. And then before I could defend myself, Chase sucker punched me in the ribs, tripped me backward over his foot and had me pinned to the mat, his fist above my chin. “Listen closely.” I glared. “That was a cheap shot.”

“No, you just weren’t paying attention worth shit.” He snarled. “No more talking only listening, nod if you understand me.” I stared him down then nodded once. “She’s your weakness if you allow it… but the women in our lives aren’t meant to be coddled, they aren’t meant to be a weakness, a target — they’re meant to be our strength. You do not exist outside of the person you’re with — you exist within them. If you feel weak when you’re around her, it’s because you feel helpless. And that, my friend, is a big difference.” He sighed, then pulled his fist back. “You feel helpless because you make it your job to protect her from everything — yourself including — which is funny since I don’t remember her ever asking you to do that, in fact, I’m pretty sure she’s well on her way to being with someone else entirely.” He stood and offered me his hand, I swatted it away. “Do yourself a favor… don’t mess with her feelings any more than you already have, not unless you’re willing to go all in — and by the looks of you — you’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of you.”

“A dick?” I said helpfully. “Nah man,” Chase ran his hand over his hair and laughed to himself. “The one girl who’s capable of making you more… than this.” He did a small circle and then lightly tapped the bag with his hand. I don’t know how long I lay down on the mat, in my own sweat and filth. It must have been a long time since Chase finally came back with Nixon in tow. They both looked down at me. Nixon smirked. “Funny, I didn’t believe it when he told me.” “That I was star gazing in the gym?” I offered sarcastically. Nixon sat down so did Chase. I was in a Nixon and Chase sandwich. Kill me now. “That you actually liked her.” I groaned and covered my hands with my face. “She’s had a rough life.” Nixon just kept talking. “Don’t make it harder by making her think you’re capable of anything other than complete selfishness

and jackassery on your end.” “Was that your version of a pep talk?” I asked. Chase just laughed. “Should have heard his pep talks before he had a kid… those were the best. Lots of guns, yelling, cursing. This, this is as close to Disney as you get, my man.” I glanced to my right, took in the giant of a man with tats all over his body, a lip ring on his face and a permanent scowl with it. “Yeah, just like Disney, what would you be Nixon? Tinkerbell?” Nixon glared. “Say it again and I’ll hand you your ass.” “Tink.” I ducked as his fist came flying. And that was how I spent the next hour. Fighting off both Nixon and Chase. I was finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, but not exhausted enough to wake up hard as a rock after dreaming of her mouth. I had two choices. I could try to go back to sleep, take a cold shower, or be the total pervert who gets off on a girl who doesn’t even realize it while she sleeps in the next room. I groaned, threw off the large duvet and stripped

out of my boxer briefs, black, not white like Chris. That should help get rid of all arousal. Just think of Chris and his boring white walls, his Dateline, his inability to make El feel anything. Ah tiny penis. All better. Except I was thinking of El again. My body was completely out of control. It refused to listen to the signals my brain was sending it, ones that said slow the hell down before you embarrass yourself for the first time since you were thirteen. I flipped on the cold water and jumped in, gritting my teeth as I let the cold water pelt my body in punishment for wanting to sink into her and — I slammed my hand against the tiled wall. Not working. Not even close. Still painfully hard. Something or someone whimpered. I shut off the shower and grabbed a towel just in time to hear El yell in her sleep. “Stop, I said stop!”

I jerked open her bedroom door and ran over to her bed. Her fists went flying as I shook her awake. She gasped. Then slapped me. The sting of her slap made all happy thoughts down south reverse as I rubbed my cheek. “You wanna talk about it?” “You wouldn’t stop.” Tears filled her eyes. “And then your face morphed into his and I remembered and I just—” She wiped under her eyes. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.” “Shit, El.” I sat on her bed, ready to pull her into my arms when her eyes went wide. “What?” “Is there a reason you’re naked?” I quickly covered myself with my towel. Not that she hadn’t already seen every single inch of me. “I was showering.” She frowned and looked at her phone. “At four am?” “Early riser,” I lied. Her eyes narrowed. The longer I stayed the harder it would be for me to leave, and I was all too aware of how thin her pajamas were, all I had to do

was drop a towel and we’d have a serious problem that my dick was only too happy to solve. “Well at least I didn’t wake you.” She licked her lips. Yeah she did, just not in the way she realized. She set her phone down. Tension crackled like a hot burning fire between us, we’d gone past smolder and moved directly into firestorm. “You scared me tonight,” she whispered. “But you were right. I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. But I can see why you… why you did it.” She rubbed her arm. “I just — it reminded me too much of him.” “I know.” I grabbed her bandaged arm and ran my fingers over it. “But I’m not. Trust me, if I had you in my arms I’d beg you to look at me so you’d never have any doubt that I was the man filling you — making you feel that way.” Her eyes darted to my mouth then lower. I willed my dick not to conveniently shove the towel out of the way. “I know.” I wanted her so bad I could taste it. Taste her.

But the fear, the fear was still there and I hated that it was directed at me, like she wasn’t sure if she could trust me anymore. “We’re friends, right?” I hated myself so much. So. Damn. Much. She frowned. “Yes, why?” “Friends give each other advice and shit?” “More advice than shit. But yes.” At least she was smiling now. I nodded to the phone. “Call him. He’s… safe.” I hated that word. “Yes. He is.” She sounded disappointed. “Hey, maybe he’s even better once you get to know him. You can come to the wedding, I’d like to see you in a tux.” What was this feeling? The one threatening to squeeze the life out of my chest as I tried to take oxygen into my lungs. “Yeah.” I finally got one word out after seconds of painful silence where a part of me felt like it was dying. “I bet you do.” Her smile was sad. It completely gutted me.

I wanted her to yell at me again. I wanted her to fight. I wanted her to tell me that safe could go to Hell. Give me danger. Just give me you. She didn’t. And in the silence, I think we both had our answer. Our paths had crossed, never should they meet again. I kissed her head and stood. “Hey Dante?” I turned. “If you put on clothes, can you just lay with me for a bit just in case the monsters come back or something.” Tears filled her eyes again, and I knew it had nothing to do with the monsters coming — but the one leaving her room — her life. “Yeah,” I croaked. “Sure.” It took me eleven seconds to grab sweat pants and pull them on. Five to get back into her room. And an eternity to fall asleep with her in my arms.

Closing my eyes seemed so final. Like death. And for the first time in my life — I didn’t crave it or the addicting darkness that came with it. I just wanted her.

CHAPTER THIRTY

El DANTE’S CHEST WAS hot

to the touch — I didn’t

have any right to touch him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from trailing my finger down his chest and following the little lines of his abs as his breathing deepened. Sunlight flickered in my room casting a glow across his massive body. If this was waking up — I never wanted to sleep again.

Muscles bulged and stretched across his taut stomach, I ran my finger lower, lower — his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist before I could continue my exploration. “Hunting for treasure?” He said without opening his eyes, his firm grip still on my hand. “Or just curious from last night?” “Sorry.” I tried to pull away, he didn’t let me. “I just, you have smooth skin.” He smirked and opened his eyes. “Did you just say I have smooth skin like it’s a plausible excuse for you to touch it?” “Yeah.” I wanted to die. “I did.” Dante didn’t hand out smiles often, in fact, he smirked — a lot, but to see him fully smile. I didn’t have words for the effect it had on every single inch of my body or the way it made my heart pound in my chest stupidly like it had reason to believe the smile was for me. It wasn’t. He leaned in. I met him halfway. Just as a knock sounded on the door.

Of course. “Coming,” I yelled while Dante made himself comfortable in my bed, the bastard closed his eyes like he was going back to sleep. “Dante! Get up!” “Staying right here, El.” His smile fell and the challenging look was back the one I liked almost as much as the smile. “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine, your funeral.” I jerked the door open. Chase peered around me and shook his head. “Figured since his bed was empty he stole yours.” “I got scared,” I said defensively. “We fell asleep.” Why was I still talking? “Nothing happened.” Chase looked ready to laugh his ass of, instead he just nodded and sidestepped me. “Yeah sure, come on in,” I grumbled. “Comfortable?” He asked Dante. Dante put his hands behind his head. “Why is her bed softer?” “She deserves nice things.” Dante’s eyes narrowed. “And I don’t?” “Soft beds make hard men soft,” Chase

explained, Dante gave him a confused look and then Chase swore. “Sounded better in my head, I just wanted to give you both fair warning that Chris is on his way over for breakfast. He texted this morning after not being able to get ahold of you last night.” El looked down at the ground. “I figured it would be best to give you warning, so you can make sure you’re ready and not still in bed with the devil.” “Watch it,” Dante snapped. “It was a compliment.” Chase stood. “Oh, and Chris wants to drive you to class too before work.” My stomach clenched. It was already happening. The separation. Panic set in when I met Dante’s gaze. He drove us to school. Dante. He walked me to my first class, not Chris. I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave Chase a weak nod. “I’ll get ready.” Chase put his hand on my shoulder and patted it like that was going to make everything better, then

shut the door behind him. My legs were wobbly like I was seconds away from collapsing. Dante finally stood, his muscled form made its way over to me. He stopped inches from my body, and then pulled me in for a tight hug. I fit perfect in his arms just like I knew I would. My heart steadied its beat. Like it was finally calm. Home. He was a danger my heart didn’t recognize — because sometimes the heart doesn’t give a damn if the person who holds it kills people — it just recognizes its soul mate and beats anyway. His eyes — those blue eyes would haunt me until I was dead and buried. I locked onto them when he pulled away and stared me down, drank me in like he wanted to memorize every inch of my face. He cupped my face, his right thumb ran across my lower lip before he moved away. He stopped in the bathroom doorway and hung his head. “Maybe it’s a curse.” “What?”

“My family legacy. My name.” He didn’t turn around, just flexed his hands around the frame, his muscles taut like they were going to snap any second. “It’s a long story — maybe I’ll tell you before you leave.” “Tell me now.” “You should get dressed.” “Dante…” “My father had to die — in order to actually live… he was buried by her so at least… in his death he found his soul.” “What?” He looked over his shoulder. “Joyce Alfero owned Luca’s soul in life — and now, now he has it back in death. It’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, the idea that he walked around on this earth with complete knowledge that she existed — but he could never have her. Not in the way they wanted.” With that, he walked off leaving me breathless. And wanting. Because every single time Dante walked out of a room, I felt a part of myself break off and

crumble to the ground. He’d snuck past my defenses. He’d shown me his true colors. The face of a monster. And I wanted that monster — and the man. Suddenly sick, I slid down to the ground and told myself to be an adult about the situation. If he was that upset about me leaving. He’d ask me to stay. And I was too much of a coward to ask him if he wanted me to. If he wanted at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Dante CHRIS

WAS ALL

smiles and handshakes that

morning. I wondered how long it would take for me to bleed him out if I stabbed him with the butter knife. Three seconds? Four? I just had to hit a main artery. Easy. I could do it with my eyes closed. “Careful.” Chase coughed into his coffee while I kept vivid lifelike daydreams of Chris’s death in the forefront of my mind.

“We should go.” He grabbed El’s bag. “How many classes do you have today?” “Two.” Her smile was forced. “Great, I’ll see if I can get away from a meeting so we can do lunch, sound good?” “Yeah, just text me.” Watching them interact was pure torture. Didn’t he get it? The way she shied away from him like he had the plague? The smiles that never reached her eyes. The hesitation in her steps? “See you in class, Dante,” she said in a hopeful tone. “See you…” I answered in a rough voice as the door closed behind them. I thought I’d be able to breathe once they were gone, instead I tortured myself with visions of his mouth on her, visions of him kissing her goodbye, reaching for her hand. I slammed my empty mug back onto the table. And was left with nothing but the handle and a shattered mess of porcelain. “Shit that was Nixon’s favorite cup.” Chase whistled.

Mil walked into the room and yawned. “Did I miss breakfast?” “Well you’ve been missing everything else, why not?” Chase said in a sarcastic tone that immediately told me I needed to make sure Mil had nothing sharp she could throw at his face. Mil gave him a sad and exhausted look. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes either; she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. “Hey I said I was sorry you know I was doing Family stuff.” “Funny.” Chase stood. “Because I thought this was your family. That I was your family.” “Not in front of Dante,” she said with clenched teeth. “Dante’s the only one I feel like I can talk to without lying, so yeah, we can do this in front of Dante.” Nixon chose that really inopportune moment to walk in with Trace. “You guys okay?” “No,” Chase spat, while Mil said, “Yes.” She went over to the coffee pot. “We just didn’t get much sleep last night.” I wondered if Nixon could tell she was lying.

Just like I wondered if anyone had noticed that her hands were shaking as she poured a cup of coffee. “Hey, maybe lay off the caffeine a bit, Mil,” Trace said softly before she gave Nixon a wideeyed look. Chase’s chest rose and fell like he was getting ready to fight someone or something. Nixon jerked his head to me, basically saying do something. I grabbed Chase by the arm. “Take me to school.” “No.” “Yes. I have a chem test to study for and I could use the time.” Bullshit I wasn’t even in chemistry. “You’re taking chemistry?” I ignored him, grabbed the keys, tossed them in his face, and opened the door. He stomped out of the house started the engine and nearly took off without me in the car with him. I jerked open the passenger door and turned off the loud music. “Talk to me.” “You hate small talk, you can’t even stand to sit

through family dinners,” Chase muttered. “Yeah well this time I guess I’ll just do the listening, what’s going on?” Chase slammed his hand against the steering wheel over and over again until he jerked into traffic and hit the accelerator. “I can’t trail her without her recognizing one of the cars — she knows all of my associates and I honestly don’t trust worth shit what she’s doing. If I tell any of the guys—” He stopped talking. “My job is to protect her, even if it means I protect her from herself, but I’m flying blind. She won’t talk to me about it. And this morning, was the first time she looked afraid like maybe she’d gone too far. And I don’t know what the hell to do.” I took a deep breath, letting the words sink in. Did he know Sergio was suspicious? Did he know that he was getting watched just as much as his own wife? I had a choice to make. I trusted Chase. But did I trust him to do the right thing when the love of his life was hanging in the balance?

“Can I ask you a question?” I glanced out the window to give him the idea that I wasn’t studying his body language and how he answered. I’d like to think of myself as a good human lie detector, Sergio had taught me well — too well. Between that and the sign language, sometimes I felt like he’d given me too much too soon — because when you see people you love elude you — lie to your face — that’s when things get real and I hated that I’d often been on the receiving end of those lies more than I could count with both hands. “Sure, that’s all you’ve been doing this entire time anyway.” He sounded bored as he jerked the car through the open gates and onto campus. “You gonna ask or just stare at the trees and daydream about a girl who’s currently in a car with another guy?” “Remind me to find someone else for the pep talks in the future,” I grumbled, then sat forward, folding my hands as he pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. “If you had to choose between Mil and the rest of your family — what choice would you make?”

Chase’s hands froze around the steering wheel as his breathing slowed and then he turned and locked eyes with me, this wasn’t my friend staring back at me, I could almost see what people saw when Chase the assassin looked at them through the barrel of his gun. I didn’t want him as my enemy. He may not be giving me a choice. Damn Mil. “I was raised to protect one thing and one thing only.” Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Blood.” I nodded. “That’s not an answer.” “Then pray to God we never get ourselves in that kind of situation,” he murmured low in his throat, he snapped his attention back to the steering wheel. “Don’t you have chemistry? You know you’d think with all that training Sergio did with you, you’d be a better liar.” “I just needed to get you out of the house before Nixon suspected anything,” I said, keeping it honest. Chase jerked his attention to me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounded like.” I shrugged. “You’re living under his roof while you build your dream house, live next to him long enough and he gets… comfortable, he ignores the simple things like the way you look at Mil like you don’t even know who she is anymore, like the simple fact that you haven’t shared a bed with your own wife in over two weeks.” Chase sucked in a breath. “Should I keep talking?” “It’s like I have a fucking spy in my own home.” He groaned. “And it’s not for lack of trying, the sleeping in separate beds. At first she said she didn’t want to wake me up…” His voice caught. “Two nights ago, I saw her washing blood from her hands, she couldn’t get it off fast enough. Her eyes were haunted. I asked her if it was hers or someone else’s… but does it really matter anymore?” He snorted. “Blood, it’s all red. It should all stay inside the body.” He rubbed his lips together and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t wish this on my greatest enemy.” “This?” I repeated.

Chase put the car in reverse and nodded toward my door in his get the hell out way I was used to. “This,” He said once I opened my door. “Watching someone you love slowly disappear and a stranger take her place. The mafia never promised to be fair… I just didn’t realize it would be this cruel, not after everything we’ve already been through.” “It could be nothing,” I said quickly. “I mean it’s Mil we’re talking about.” “Blood in, no out, Dante.” His voice lowered. “Once a De Lange, always a De Lange.” “But Phoenix—” “Wouldn’t hesitate to kill his own sister if he knew she was doing anything against the families. Neither would Tex. Nixon. Frank — you don’t get it yet do you? Blood wins out. Every fucking time.” He screeched out of the parking spot just in time for me to see El and Chris walking hand in hand toward the business building. And I had to wonder. If someone asked me to shoot her to prove my loyalty.

If my own family asked me to end her in order to protect us. Would I do it? The thought haunted me the entire way to class.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

El CHRIS HAD WARM hands. And he talked — a lot. But I was actually thankful for his talking especially when I could somehow feel Dante’s eyes on my back, watching, calculating. And still, I could still feel his arms around my body the warmth of his touch and the almost kiss that should have never happened in the first place. He was dangerous.

Bad for me. He wasn’t safe. He was right about everything. That was why I was holding that warm hand and smiling at all the right times and leaning in when it was socially acceptable to get a bit closer. “You haven’t heard anything I just said have you?” Chris smirked, stopping me in my tracks right in front of my building. My eyes widened. “Of course I have, I’m sorry I just — it was a long night.” In someone else’s arms. My sheets would smell like him. Oh God what kind of torture was this? I forced my smile again. Chris sighed. “I like you, you know that right?” I nodded weakly. He smiled, it was a nice smile, and it made me feel cruel for using him in a way that he didn’t deserve. “Hey,” He tilted my chin toward him, he was good looking, he wasn’t anywhere near Dante’s level of sexual magnetism but he was handsome in

all the right places. He was like the model you’d see on an Abercrombie bag shirtless on his way to Harvard. So why did I want the tattooed bad boy who by all means should be in prison? “Look at me,” Chris asked softly. “I know I’m not like them—” He stopped himself before saying. “I can still protect you. I can give you what you need, but you have to give me a chance.” I nodded again. “Promise me you’ll give me a chance, El. I can’t fight a battle I’ve already lost. Let me take you out next time I’m back in town, all right?” I licked my lips. “All right.” His face lit up with a bright smile. “Great.” Before I could stop him, he’d placed a chaste kiss on my lips, he tasted like coffee and mint. I didn’t flinch or back away. But it made me feel somehow — dirty. That I was once again a pawn in a game I never asked to be a part of, being sold to a side I wasn’t even sure I was fighting with. He kissed my head next and then he was gone.

I didn’t walk into the building. I waited. For the inevitable. And one minute later, Dante was standing next to me. We walked side by side into the building. I went left. He went right. There may as well be a chasm of words that separated us. And yet neither of us reached out and built that bridge, took the words and formed them into sentences that needed to be said. The moment was lost. Doors closed. And I felt sicker in that moment listening to my professor, than I did with Xavier. And I had no idea why. Nor was I going to get a chance to. Andrei walked in a few minutes late, locked eyes with me and took a seat right next to me. I squirmed a little but tried to ignore him. “I need to talk to Dante,” he said under his

breath. “Then go find him and talk,” I hissed careful not to look at him. “You’re prettier to look at.” I could hear the smirk in his tone, as he leaned closer to me, his body heat attempted to penetrate my shield. “Besides, I figure another test is in order — I know I can trust him — but can I trust you?” I scowled. “I’m just trying to go to school — to rebuild my life.” “You had a life. A good life,” he said simply. “Xavier gave you everything, you wanted for nothing and he spread your legs every night and gave you more. Don’t be an unthankful bitch.” Bile rose in my throat. I refused to look at him. He wouldn’t understand. He didn’t value women. Only money. And himself. “Give him this. Don’t read it. I’ll know if you do.” He slid a note onto my desk and returned his attention to the professor. I snatched the note and shoved it in my bag. When class was over, I bolted and went in

search of Dante. It didn’t take long to find him — outside. Cornered by a girl I didn’t know. Smiling at her like they were familiar. Jealousy shot through me as I made my way over to him. His smile fell when he saw me. He dismissed the girl without saying anything and met me half way, pulling me into his arms. “What happened?” “Here.” With shaking hands, I gave him the note and tried to reign in my emotions. It was too much, being in his arms, seeing the concern on his face. He grabbed the note and read; a smile appeared on his face. “You read this?” “He said not to.” Dante exhaled. “Good girl.” “Don’t say good girl, it’s demeaning.” I shoved away from him. He didn’t let me get far, just grabbed my hand. “Let’s go to our next class.” We passed Andrei who tilted his head in our direction like I’d passed some huge test.

Once we were out of earshot and on our way to the next building, I whispered. “What did the note say?” “If she looks afraid instead of jealous — kill her.” I stopped walking. “Wait, what?” “Andrei’s girlfriend.” He shrugged. “The girl I was talking to?” My chest heaved. “It was a set up?” “Apparently.” Dante drew out the word. “But you passed.” “I could have gotten killed!” Dante pushed me against the wall with his body and nipped my ear with his teeth. “You can’t react here, not like that, El. It’s not safe, all right? Freak out in the car or when we get home.” Home. I liked the way it sounded on his lips. “But not here, here you’re Italian royalty all right? You’re with me, in my arms, in my family.” For some reason, my eyes started tearing up. “I won’t let anything happen to you, but that also means you need to be careful how you react, when you react, don’t play the hero.” He backed away.

“Had I read the note,” I finally looked up at him. “Would you have killed me?” “Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. I was too shocked to say anything. I wanted to slap him for being such a horrible person while at the same time hug him for being honest. What the hell was wrong with me? “Let me finish, before you start plotting my death.” He pulled me close again, most likely so nobody could see or hear us as they walked to class. And then his rough cheek rubbed against mine as he murmured low in his throat. “If I didn’t shoot you — they would have shot both of us and most likely tortured you, returned you to the life you fled from. You keep forgetting — they want you dead or returned. So yes, I’d rather kill you than see you with them, then send you back to the pits of Hell with no way to get you back. And I think you’d prefer it that way — because I’ve heard your screams at night, I’ve held your body while you shake trying to get the memory of his hands off of you. I know you. You prefer death. Tell me I’m wrong?”

I was breathing so heavy I thought I was going to pass out. I could only squeeze out, “You’re not.” Before basically collapsing in his arms. “Inhale, there you go, exhale.” He rubbed my back. “We should get to class, only one more to go, all right?” I nodded and let him wrap his arm around me as we kept walking. At least we were talking now. At least we were touching. He hadn’t brought up the kiss. Then again, it’s hard to bring up something so petty — when your life hangs in the balance. My heart soared with the knowledge of how well he knew me. While simultaneously breaking with the cold hard fact. I would never be his.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Dante I PROMISED MYSELF I wouldn’t think about the kiss they shared. I promised myself I’d focus on my job. I’d focus on blood. Not El. But the more I told myself that, the more she came to the forefront of my mind, especially after the stunt Andrei pulled today. I’d never been so thankful for jealousy in my entire life. I knew why he wanted El either with them or

dead. He was under the assumption Xavier told her things when all he did was use her for sex. The thought of anyone’s hands on her. I gritted my teeth just as she walked into the kitchen for dinner, staring down at her phone. Smiling. What the hell was that guy sending her? Cat videos? Naked pictures? I’d never been so tempted to ask my brother in law for a favor in my life. Hack her phone. But I knew it wouldn’t help. I’d just torture myself with all the inside jokes all the sweet compliments, and plans for the future. A future I wasn’t going to be a part of. “You’re smiling,” Frank pointed out from the head of the table, he lived alone so it wasn’t rare for him to share dinner with us multiple times a week. What was rare was that Mil was actually sitting down. She eyed me and then the potatoes in front of her.

All right then. “Dante,” Nixon grabbed a bottle of wine and set it on the table. “Sergio and Phoenix are on their way over — more training, so only eat what you wouldn’t mind puking up later.” Nixon. Always encouraging. “Noted.” I pulled a chair out. El sat across from me right next to Mil. Chase flanked my right. I gulped. This wasn’t awkward. Trace was attempting to feed the baby while Nixon helped. They were distracted. And in that moment, it all made sense. How Mil assumed she could fly under the radar in another boss’s home. He was distracted. Unarmed. I didn’t as much as flinch as the reality of my situation washed over me. Whatever she was doing or not doing. She was banking on Chase protecting her — and

Nixon ignoring her. I was the wild card. So, I did what anyone would do in my position. I fucked with her head. “Mil,” I poured her a glass of wine. “You look… tired. Doesn’t she look tired Chase?” Chase tensed next to me. I was loyal to him. But loyal to my blood first, my legacy, my dead father. And if she was doing anything to jeopardize my revenge on any enemy that tried to take my sister away, take El away, I would end them. “Lots of late nights, huh Chase?” She winked at Chase. He went still as a statue then gave her a completely disgusted look. She paled. And I knew… she had broken something once so strong between them. It was fragile. In a world full of lies and destruction. Sometimes all you have is one person to help you see the light. But what happens when they succumb to the darkness?

“I wouldn’t know,” Chase finally said, meeting her gaze with a pissed off one of his own. Trace finally looked over at us as if noticing the tension around the table. “What’s going on?” “I’m not exactly sure.” I eyed Mil. “But, I’m going to find out. The truth always wins — especially when you’re such a shitty liar.” It was out before I could stop it. Chase’s chest heaved. I did the job he didn’t want to. He would thank me later. After he tried to beat the shit out of me. Mil’s eyes narrowed. And I knew what she was thinking — weighing. Friend or foe. I smiled, it wasn’t intended as a friendly smile, but as one that promised pain if she touched anything or anyone I loved. I would challenge the boss of the De Langes if that was what it came to. And I would win. Because I had nothing to lose. And she did. Frank shifted in his seat, his eyes taking

everything in. Quietly. He did things quietly. And I knew he was watching the exchange in interest, the very fact that I’d put her in a shitty position in front of two bosses wasn’t lost on him. Mil’s gaze was ice cold. I’d never seen anyone crack in front of my eyes. But I saw it in her, saw the fear, the guilt, and finally the shame when she looked back to her glass of wine and drank the whole thing. Hand shaking. I turned my attention back to El her face was sad. Like she noticed the broken pieces between Chase and Mil and didn’t know how to fix them. She’d come to the same conclusion I already did a few minutes ago. Sometimes you can’t fix what’s been broken. Especially when it’s not love that breaks. But trust. “I lost my appetite.” I turned to walk away. Chase caught my arm, gripped it so hard that I knew he could break something if he wanted to. Instead, he just nodded once. And that was my answer.

His thank you. While his wife watched. Blood will always win. And because of her choices. She’d just put an even bigger target on her back. One I wouldn’t hesitate to hit. So Chase wouldn’t have to.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Dante ANOTHER SHITTY DAY. At Eagle Elite. After letting Chase punch me repeatedly, he’d been thankful that I’d outed Mil, but with that thanks, came his stress, which meant I got to play the bag to his punching. I sighed and looked around for El I should feel guilty that she was sitting by herself, that people were whispering like they

always did. But I had a job to do — and that job didn’t include holding her hand and making sure the kids weren’t being mean to her. I snorted in disgust and tossed a fry back onto my plate. Andrei approached like I knew he would — hey he was the one who invited me to eat by them. Silence ensued. It was becoming annoying, the way people looked at him like he was God, when I knew it was more like he was the exact opposite of anyone or anything you ever want to worship. I could almost feel the tension dripping from the atmosphere as he calmly sat across from me and folded his hands on the picnic bench. I had an hour before my next class. And was spending it trying to eat shit food and not stare at El while she read a book under the tree. “Still so pretty.” Andrei nodded in her direction. “Too bad she’s used goods, yeah, surprised you still kiss her knowing where her mouth’s been.” I kept my face indifferent when my heart slammed in defiance of his words, like it was taking

offense even though it wasn’t even meant to. Damn it, that mouth was mine. With a shrug I grabbed another shitty fry and shoved it into my mouth. “She’s worse than a Russian whore,” he said in a low voice. “Next time you bring her around, know that we will take advantage of her in every way. It’s our right. Besides…” He stood and winked. “She’s got no name to protect her, not that it’s surprising. No Italian was brave enough to take her, huh? What has it been? A few days?” His voice rose. She was only a few feet away from me. Tears filled her eyes, and she glanced back down at her book. “What makes you think I haven’t?” I said calmly. “Don’t assume I haven’t spread her legs for my own pleasure and laughed at the way she screams my name as if no one’s ever made her feel that way before, Xavier must have had a pretty small dick.” Smirking, I stood. “So fucking tight, I almost passed out. Probably a good thing Xavier’s dead, or I’d kill him for being such a shit sexual

partner.” “Watch it.” Andrei’s face cracked a smile. “He may have been an idiot, but he was our idiot.” “And now he’s a dead idiot,” I added with a smirk. “I can’t decide if I should trust you or just kill you,” he mused. “You’re asking the wrong question, Andrei.” “Am I?” “The only thing you can trust in this business is money and blood. You don’t need to trust the person, trust the greed you see in my eyes, trust the blood I spilled for you. End of story.” He nodded slowly. “Soon.” He knocked on the table and started walking backward away from me. “We have a few loose ends and then you’ll have all the money you could possibly want — and enough blood to spill to quench even your thirst, Dante.” I eyed him up and down with a bored expression and said. “Doubtful.” He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I like you.” When he was a few feet away from me, his back

turned, I imagined pointing a gun at his head and firing off the trigger at least a dozen times. If I didn’t need information on him, his contacts, what the hell he was doing at the University other than stalking the shit out of El — he’d be dead. Slowly, I approached El, casting a shadow over her form. She turned the page, scrunched up her nose like she was concentrating when we both know she probably heard every ugly part about that conversation. “Am I supposed to thank you?” She didn’t look up. “Don’t.” “Wasn’t planning on it.” I sat down next to her, our thighs grazed each other. She sucked in a breath and leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree. “He’s going to kill you.” “Not if I kill him first.” “That’s a gamble. They’re putting you in a bad position — the bosses, if this goes badly, if you’re no longer useful—” “That’s where you’re wrong El — I will always

be useful to men like Andrei because they can’t see beyond their own arrogance. I’m just dangerous enough for him to want me on his side, I have all the right connections, and there’s a sick satisfaction he gets thinking that I’d ever cross my own family just to build a name for myself. Nah, he won’t fire first, because he sees himself in me, and you don’t shoot yourself in a war, you shoot the enemy. My bullet will be lodged in his head, it’s just a matter of when.” She shivered and closed her book. “I hope you’re right.” “Why?” I turned to her. “You gonna miss me?” She rolled her eyes. “Must be nice, sinking between my thighs, huh Dante?” I stood and offered her my hand. “I wouldn’t know since you keep them so fucking tight I’m surprised you can even put pants on without difficulty.” She scowled and jerked away from me. “Thanks… for making him think I was your whore too.” I wrapped an arm around her. “It’s to keep you

safe.” “I know.” Her voice was muffled against my chest as I walked her away from the crowds of people and toward the business building. “I just… it makes me feel — dirty again.” I stopped walking, dropped her book onto the ground right after her messenger bag, then cupped her face between my hands, my mouth found hers in a searing kiss as my tongue slid past her defenses, my hands dove into her luscious midnight hair. When she gasped, I deepened the kiss until all I tasted was her. With a sigh, I pulled away, kissed her forehead, grabbed her messenger bag and discarded book and then her hand. We kept walking. “What?” Her voice was hoarse. “What was that for?” “That was a kiss, El.” “I know what it was Dante, I’m asking what it was for.” “A reminder.” I shrugged. “Of?”

“The purity of kissing, the simplicity of kissing just to kiss, because it feels good because sometimes sex is just fucking and emotionless, but when you kiss, damn when you kiss you feel everything don’t you? You feel it everywhere, it consumes you more than any sexual act you’ll ever do. People don’t really remember their first sexual experience, but their first kiss? You’ll remember it until your dying day. Just giving you something happy so you can replace the ugly. Sometimes kissing is the only way to give innocence back that’s been taken.” I stopped walking. “Now, El. Now you can thank me.” She sighed and then whispered, “Thank you.” It was unexpected. The feeling in my chest that told me the kiss wasn’t just for her. But for me too. My kiss had been selfless and after two seconds in her arms, it had quickly turned selfish. Because I wanted more. And a part of me was disgusted with every thought that was directed at the very girl I was

supposed to stay away from — to protect. She would never be mine. But for a few minutes. When our lips fused together. I was hers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

El SERGIO

AND PHOENIX

didn’t join us for dinner,

they bypassed all the wine and food — very unusual for any Italian, and went in search of Dante. And for the second night in a row, Chase didn’t move from his spot, nor did his eyes leave Mil’s, it seemed like she was trying after the previous night, not that it mattered, things were breaking — broken.

I was too afraid to ask him if he was okay in front of her. It felt like something was breaking, shifting, and home suddenly wasn’t as safe as it once was. Not with the way Frank watched Mil. Or the way Chase watched Frank. Nixon didn’t catch on, but he had a six-monthold in his arms. Trace however kept looking back at everyone. Mil finally stood and eyed Chase. “Want to go watch a movie?” “Code word for sex?” Chase tried teasing. A small smile hit her lips. “Probably.” They were faking it. Everyone knew it but them. He followed her out. I sagged in relief. Until Nixon spoke. “I’ll deal with it.” Eyes wide I waited for Frank to say something. Instead, he just leaned back in his chair and grabbed the newspaper. “Enjoy your daughter while she’s young. He sighed. “Dante’s already on it.”

Nixon froze. “The hell he is—” “Let him.” Trace touched Nixon’s face. “Please, just… let someone else draw blood for once, okay?” His body was rigid, his mannerisms jerky as he touched his forehead to Trace’s and nodded. “All right.” I stood and started clearing plates when Nixon’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back down into my seat. I dropped the plates and waited for whatever he was going to say. It was always hard looking directly at him, he was ruthless, dangerous, he was just like Dante only I knew the blood he had on his hands. Nixon Abandonato was a nightmare in the flesh. “How are things with Chris?” He asked casually digging into his food. I sagged in relief. “Um, good, they’re good.” “You think you’ll feel safe with him?” I hesitated. I don’t know why. “Safe.” I repeated the ugly word. “Is just a

fantasy parents tell their children, a bed time story to help them sleep better at night. Is any one of us, ever safe?” “No.” Nixon smiled at me, stunning me into silence with his beauty. “I wondered how long it would take for you to figure that out.” “What?” “Just think about it.” He nodded. “You can go now, but leave the dishes for Chase, it’s his turn.” I couldn’t get out of the dining room fast enough. My normal routine was homework and TV in my room. Shutting myself away from the world. Away from Dante. And now, now that I’d left the bathroom door open, now that I’d been in his world a part of it. It felt wrong to lock myself in my room like a prison. Maybe that was what I’d been doing all along. They’d brought me to a home. And I’d turned it into a jail cell because I was afraid.

I was still afraid. But not of the same things I used to be afraid of. I used to be afraid of the way men looked at me. Now? Now I was afraid of the day when a certain man would watch me with those crystal blue eyes — as I walked down the aisle into the arms of another. My legs carried me down to the training rooms where Dante normally kicked ass or had his ass handed to him. The sound of fighting filed the room. The smell of sweat. Blood. A few weeks ago, I would have run out screaming. And now, now I was curious. What had Dante done to me? I took a step inside and watched. Dante had no shirt on. Neither did Phoenix or Sergio. It should be illegal to see that much naked muscle in such a small space. I shivered as Dante lunged for Phoenix.

“Stop.” He held up his hands. “Remember your goal is to get away not attack, it’s completely opposite of what you know, but that’s what Krav Maga is. Now, lean in with your right hand, you can’t just poke eyes out with that much force, you’ll just impale eye balls onto your fingers like skewers or end up punching rather than poking.” “Love it when he says poke,” Dante said under his breath much to the amusement of Sergio who watched on the sidelines. I laughed with him. All eyes turned to me. I held up my hands. “Sorry, I was just… watching.” “I bet you were.” Dante grinned. I rolled my eyes. Sergio nodded to me. “Come on in, watch Dante get his ass kicked, it’s great entertainment.” Dante flipped him off. I walked to Sergio’s side as Phoenix approached Dante again, he was leaner than Dante, but not lacking any muscle whatsoever. Dante evaded one of Phoenix’s punches,

reached in with his right hand and stopped right before his pointer finger hit Phoenix’s eyelash. “Nice,” Sergio said approvingly. “Again.” They did the same movement about a dozen more times before Dante joined me and it was Sergio’s turn. “You were good at that,” I said lamely. Dante threw his head back and laughed. “It’s more brain than muscle, it’s difficult to tell my body to speed up with quicker movements when I just want to pull my gun or knock someone out.” I frowned. “So why learn it?” “Because it makes you lethal,” he said seriously. “And because Phoenix is the best at it, he taught Trace how to fight, you know that?” I felt my face light up. “Really?” “Yeah.” Dante eyed my mouth and then looked away. “So she wouldn’t be afraid.” “I never said I couldn’t fight.” “Ah but can you fight well?” I shrugged. “That a challenge, Nicolasi?” “You gonna let her talk shit to you, Dante? “Maybe I like getting talked to like that.” He

sucked in his bottom lip and followed up with one of the sexiest grins I’d ever seen in my entire life. Phoenix hit him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I think that means we break, don’t forget what we talked about, Dante.” Sergio didn’t move. Phoenix rubbed his chin with his hand. “You coming, Serg?” “I’m not sure.” Sergio crossed his arms. “I mean how many times were you a dick to me over your sister? Interrupting things you had no business interrupting. Raising hell,” He laughed when Dante looked ready to charge him with a knife. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, but you owe me, Dante.” “Make a list,” Dante snapped. Sergio and Phoenix laughed and closed the door behind them. Blanketing us in a tense silence. Dante pinned me with another heady look before he jerked his chin at me. “Rule number one, no shirts in the ring.” My eyebrows shot up. “Even for girls?” His voice lowered as he grabbed a piece of the

cotton material between his fingers and tugged. “Especially for girls.” “How do I know you’re telling the truth? I mean these rules, are they written down somewhere?” He tapped his head with one finger. “Locked up here, besides, why would I lie to you?” “Why indeed?” I jerked the shirt over my head before I lost my nerve. At least I was wearing a black sports bra, it still left nothing to the imagination thanks to Victoria’s Secret and their new sports line. Dante’s look swallowed me whole, like he was already envisioning tasting, taking. “Any more rules?” I put my hands on my hips. “Just one.” He approached until we were almost chest to chest, I could smell his sweat and had a sudden urge to run my hands down his chest, and see if they’d slide against his smooth skin. “No lies in the ring. You have to be able to trust who you spar with.” I kept my expression guarded as I agreed with a quick. “Okay.” “All right.” He was back to fight mode. “Show

me what you go—” I swung at his jaw, he stumbled back as my hit landed its mark. His stunned expression was worth it as I charged again this time, landing a round house kick to his stomach before he could ask me who taught me how to fight. “What the hell?” Dante hissed then stomped toward me. Oh shit. I blocked his next two punches before he landed one to my stomach, I flexed against it and tried to throw him over my shoulder. But he was too big. Too heavy. Too good. He laughed. Actually laughed against my ear like I was tickling him. I jerked free and tried to hit him again, this time he caught my right hand, my left, and when I tried to land a kick he gripped my ankle and jerked twisting me into the air until I landed with a huff on

my side. “You know exactly three different ways to surprise your assailant enough to get away.” He knelt next to me and grinned. “But you’re rusty.” “Ouch.” I rubbed my stomach. He didn’t apologize. I would have been pissed if he did. “Who taught you to fight?” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m self-taught.” “Bullshit.” I sighed. “It’s… does it matter?” He surveyed my stomach running his hands down where I knew I was going to bruise. “It matters to me.” “Papa.” I cleared my throat. “My Grandpa was a boxer who loved a bit of Jiu Jitsu. He taught me before… everything.” “Did you fight them?” Rage laced his tone. “Did you try to kill them before they took you?” “I did.” I swallowed. “And so did my papa. He died trying to save me… I didn’t know it at the time, but he helped secure the fights for a lot of the Petrovs. He wasn’t what I would call a good man,

but I loved him.” I blinked away a few tears. “You don’t love things because their inherently good El, sometimes you just love people for who they are — for where they’re at. You don’t have to love actions, you can love the person despite what they do.” “I loved him, despite what he did.” I left out the part where whenever I saw his face I thought of my dead parents as well. “Do you blame him for getting taken by the Petrovs? Sold to Xavier for his own pleasure?” “Twenty questions, huh?” I said nervously. “It’s not like we have a lot of time, El.” It made me sadder, made the tears fill my eyes faster than my papas own death. “It made me hate them. But I never blamed my papa for not being able to keep me safe — because I’d like to think that somehow, his memory is what helped keep me alive.” “Sometimes memories are all we have.” Dante cupped my face. “Yeah.” I gulped. He leaned in.

I shouldn’t have met him halfway. And when our lips were a breath apart. He stopped. “El.” “Yeah.” “Make this memory a good one.” He crushed his mouth to mine. And the first tear of many I would cry over Dante Nicolasi, fell.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Dante EVERY SINGLE TIME I kissed her in my mind, it was frenzied, rushed, with barely restrained passion. But now that it was a reality, now that my lips were tasting hers, now that our mouths were sealed with words we’d never trust the world around us to hear — I knew. I would rather die than rush each kiss she let me give her. I reached for her ass lifting her onto my lap, she leaned up on her knees straddling my body against

the dirty mat as I dove my fingers into her silky hair jerking just hard enough to gain access to her throat. El let out a moan as she clenched my shoulders moving her body slowly against mine in every way I’d dreamed of since that first time we kissed. Since the first time we locked eyes. Since the first time she let me see her pain. And I let her see mine. You know you’ve found something undeniable when you can show the girl the monster and rather than run away she runs toward it and holds its hand. I was the very thing she hated. The very thing that represented death. And still she returned each kiss with more pressure, and when my tongue slid into her mouth, she cried out against me like she’d been waiting her whole life for my taste. I pleaded with my body — remember this. Never forget. Because I knew I would never have it again. Her lips trembled when I ran my hands up her

sides my fingers dancing along her skin. Remember. Remember. I wrestled. I warred with the need to take her. And leave nothing for him. Maybe I wasn’t a monster after all. Because I couldn’t find it in me. I lifted her off my body, easily laying her down next to me. “Let me see all of you.” She gulped. “I’m not used to…” Red flared across her cheeks. “El, I’d kill him for you. I’d make him suffer, but since someone’s already beat me to it — I’ll make them suffer, I’ll make Andrei suffer. I’ll kill them all. For you. I’ll make it hurt.” Her full lips spread into a smile that pierced my heart, shattering it with its intensity. Her smile could both start wars. And end them. “Please,” I urged. “Please let me give you this.” She nodded a jerky nod but it was still a nod. I reached for her jeans and slowly pulled them

past her hips, knees, feet with each movement, each tug, my breathing slowed. Those legs. I could spend years worshipping her legs alone. Kissing behind her knees, licking my way between her thighs until she screamed my name. Until she knew what real pleasure was. Not some prick getting off. But love. The kind of passion she was born for. The kind she would never get from Chris. Me. Only me. I focused totally on her as I dropped the jeans next to us fully aware that there were cameras, I turned my back so that security couldn’t see shit even if they wanted to. I’d delete it in the morning. Or maybe keep it and watch her face when I had nothing left of her except the memory of her taste on my lips. She didn’t move to cover up anything as I followed through on my fantasy and leaned my face toward her hips. Inhaled and exhaled against

her hips, and then very gently bit down on the lace of her underwear and slowly tugged it down her leg, watching her watch me the entire time. Her chest rose and fell slowly. Her eyes hooded as she clutched her hands into tight fists. I released her underwear from my teeth and stared. At every effortless piece of her. “You’re more,” I said reverently. “More,” she repeated in a whisper. “What do mean?” Even now I could see the hesitation in her gaze, the fear that I was going to turn into him. She was used to being screwed. No pleasure. She expected men to have no control. Control was all I had left to give her. She’d already taken my heart. “More,” I reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips one by one, then moved between her legs, resting my hands on her thighs. “You’re more beautiful than I could have possibly imagined, more

tempting than I ever realized, you’re more in every way, El. Just. More.” Tears filled her eyes. “I wish.” “What?” “That I could get looked at the way you look at me — every day.” “You will,” I promised. “Even if you don’t see me, know that every night for the rest of my life, I’ll look at you just the way I am now — even if you can’t see me.” She nodded, tears filled her eyes. I wasn’t safe. But a part of me hoped she’d still see the good. Amidst all the bad. I kissed her then. Kissed her with the promises still fresh on my tongue. Sealing them between us. Something inside me mourned the loss of what could have been with the girl that should have been. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her mouth pressed against mine, completely naked

from the waist down, in only her bra and she still kissed me with abandon. Women like her were made to be worshipped for hours. I pulled away then kissed her again. “Your kisses distract me,” I said aloud. “Isn’t that the point?” She said sadly. “No.” I lowered my head. “This is.” My first taste of her would be cemented in my brain and etched in my soul for the rest of my existence. Her hips bucked against my face. “I’ve never — this isn’t something—” “No, he wouldn’t do this because he was a bastard who deserved death.” I stopped and glanced up at her. “I’m making up for it right now.” “That’s not your job you know…” Loving you has always been my job. I just didn’t know it. More things left unsaid. Her gaze didn’t leave mine as I leaned down my tongue invaded every tight inch of her. I drank her in as her body contracted around me, begged me

for more with each touch of my tongue. I sucked deep. “Don’t stop—” she cried. “Please don’t stop.” “Never,” I rasped against her core as she dug her hands into my hair. “Could stay here forever…” Another swirl of my tongue. “Live here forever.” “Yes.” Voice hoarse, she lifted to meet me again and again, I loved her with my mouth, played her with my tongue, tasted her like she was mine to taste. A shudder wracked my body as she contracted around my tongue squeezing me tight, and I wished in that moment I would have done the shitty thing. And filled her with me instead of only part of me. Her muscles spasmed again, I sucked harder, reaching my fingers in to her most sensitive areas. And set her free. “Dante, Dante, Dante,” She clamped her legs around me, my name on her lips, the taste of her on mine. “I never knew.” If it was possible for someone’s heart to break

multiple times, mine would have. “Good,” I whispered reverently, as her face lit up with a smile. “I’m glad it wasn’t him… but me.” “Me too.” She reached for me just as I lowered my head to kiss her, our hands intertwined as she rocked me onto my back straddling me yet again, reaching for my belt. “No.” I grabbed her eager hands. “I’m not taking that from you.” “But—” her eyes clouded. “I don’t understand, don’t you…” She chewed her lower lip. “Don’t you want to?” “Do I want to?” I repeated, then rubbed myself against those eager hands. “What do you think?” She blushed again. “You’re not mine.” I hated the way it killed the look of bliss on her face. “Why does this feel like goodbye?” Because it was. Because he was coming back. Because he’d already kissed her. Because I had a feeling a war was coming, and I would do anything I could to keep her as far away

from it as possible. “Memories,” I reminded her. “Good memories.” She swallowed and looked away as another tear fell. “The best.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

El I WASN’T SURE

he was going to hold me while I

slept. My body was still buzzing from him. I’d never known that kind of feeling from anyone. And the man who’d scared me the most when I first got to Chicago — was the one who gave it to me. Freely. Without asking for anything in return. Fairy Tales had it all backward didn’t they? Princes grew up in lives of privilege, they never wanted for anything or anyone.

Monsters grow up knowing exactly what everyone thinks of them and fight anyway. Princes catch — and keep you for themselves. Monsters capture — only to set you free. I didn’t cry into my pillow when an hour passed and I didn’t feel Dante next to me. Instead, I checked my phone and sighed when a message from Chris waited. Can’t wait until this weekend! XO XO I turned my phone on its screen so I wouldn’t see it anymore. And stared at the boring white walls. What would life be like without Dante in it? Boring. Empty. Safe. The bed dipped. “Dante.” My voice shook. He pulled me against his chest and kissed the back of my head. “Sleep.” “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t going to.” “What changed your mind?” “Not enough memories, El.” He tightened his hold on my body. “I needed just one more.” “And sleep was one of them?” “I’m not sleeping — not tonight. Tonight I’m going to hold you until you fall asleep so that when you’re gone, I’ll remember what it felt like to have you in my arms.” “Safe.” Using the word with him felt right in so many ways. “From your enemies, yes—” His mouth found my neck in a painful kiss. “But El, you will never be safe from me.” I shivered. “And if I don’t want to be safe from you?” He ran his hand down my arm and came into contact with my tattoo. “Ask me the question, El.” “What question?” Confused, I turned to face him, glad that he let me. His eyes flashed briefly. “The one that needs to be asked.” “I don’t… I don’t understand.” What was he

talking about? “Would I hurt you again?” He ran his hands down my bandaged arm. “If I had to.” I gulped. “I know that answer.” He gave me a disgusted look. “Yes,” I said, voice weak. “You would.” “So you see why you’d never be safe with me, not really, not doing what I have to do.” “Yes.” He shuddered then kissed my forehead. “Sleep, El.” “You’ll be here when I open my eyes.” He didn’t answer. Just pulled me closer against his chest until I felt like we were one person, until the rhythmic cadence of his heart lulled me to sleep like a song. And when I woke up. He was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Dante “YOU SURE THIS is a good plan?” Sergio asked the next morning at breakfast. I’d gotten to their house at six am, early enough to talk with him before my sister woke up and late enough that I could spend the last few minutes of the morning in El’s bed. “No.” I reached for my coffee. “But she can’t try with him if I’m constantly watching her, I’m still sparring with Chase on a regular basis, so I’ll be around enough to watch Mil and she’s so rarely

home my time’s wasted watching her.” “You need a car.” Sergio shrugged. “You have twelve,” I snapped. “Literally.” His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Yeah well I’m attached to them. All of them. Use some of that Nicolasi money and buy yourself something nice…” he lifted a shoulder, shrugging. “One that Mil hasn’t seen before.” Realization hit. “You know my covers blown if she finds out I’m the one tailing her.” “She already suspects. She’s not stupid,” Sergio said. “You laid out your hand quite nicely according to Frank that is. At dinner.” I groaned. “Chase left me no choice.” “Chase is between a rock and a hard place. One that I pray no one I love ever has to be placed in,” Sergio snapped. Val walked into the room and stilled. “Dante? Is everything okay?” She frowned when she saw a small duffel bag. “Body or clothes?” “It’s alarming that you ask that.” I eyed Sergio like it was his fault. “And I’m just staying for a week or so.” Until El leaves forever.

Until the temptation to beg her to stay passes. Sleeping next to her. After really tasting her. Feeling her surrender in my arms. It would be physically impossible to stay away. And she deserved that. A clean break. For once I felt like I was doing the right thing. Val yawned behind her hand. “Whatever, I need coffee, you have class today?” She was wearing the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen and a tank top that barely covered her stomach. I glared at Sergio again. He smirked into his coffee. I kicked him under the table. He blocked my second kick. Val turned around. We broke apart like we hadn’t been fighting. “One more favor.” I stood. “Put me as far away from your guy’s room as humanly possible, I’m not even opposed to sleeping outside with noise canceling headphones on.” Sergio rolled his eyes. “Chin up, man, she’s not

that loud.” I cupped my ears while Val shot Sergio an irritated look then smacked him on the back of the head. He let her. Then grinned up at me. I removed my hands. “We good? No more sex talk?” “Easy.” Sergio shrugged. “We don’t talk about it because we’re actually having it, unlike some people.” I growled out in frustration and reached for my keys. “Thanks for the… idea.” “Anytime.” He checked his watch then jerked his head toward the door. “Take Chase with you, he knows cars.” “Won’t he tell her I got a new car?” “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” “Damn mafia,” I grumbled as I walked out the door and made my way to Nixon’s Benz. It was nice. Like all of his cars. But it wasn’t me.

I grinned in excitement. A year ago, I’d had no idea how much money I had to my name. And now that I knew — the millions that were left to Phoenix, and the millions Luca asked him to save for me and Val. It was humbling. And staggering. To think that while celebrities were hanging out in their private yachts thinking they were living the dream. I knew, I could buy ten of them, and still not feel it. The thought made me smile until I stopped and looked at the messenger bag still in Nixon’s car. El. Shit. What was money, when you had nobody to share it with? And suddenly car shopping felt very, very, stupid.

“YOU’RE

KIDDING,

RIGHT?”

Chase was still

fighting me over my choice. “You said no to the Range Rover, no to the Benz, and said that the Bugatti looked like a space ship, there’s no hope for you man.” “I liked the G-Wagon.” He crossed his arms like he was upset that I picked out an SUV instead of the Maybach he’d basically licked ten minutes ago. “You know, you can get a new car, Chase,” I teased. “It’s not like you don’t have loads and loads of Abandonato money.” He flipped me off, then his smile fell. “No, I can’t.” “Why?” “Mil,” was all he said. I waited. He cursed and then kicked the front tire of the G wagon I was in the process of purchasing. “How much do you know about the De Langes?”

“Enough to know that they’ve done anything and everything to rebuild their wealth and up until Mil, they were the most hated family in the Cosa Nostra.” “Still are,” Chase added. “She tried, I’d like to think she tried really hard to right all the wrongs — but you can’t create miracles without money. The only money she has is mine.” “You won’t give it to her?” I knew I was pushing, the conversation they’d had a few nights back was eerily similar to this. My thoughts went to the pantry. To El. Focus. “She won’t let me.” My head snapped in his direction. “If you have money to give her, millions in fact, why not take it and use it?” “She did.” He licked his lips. “At first, and then she just stopped, said that it made the men uneasy knowing that they owed the Abandonatos a favor… she wanted to do it all herself. It was commendable, is commendable. So I let her.”

“When was this?” “We were in New York at the time searching for you and Val, nine months ago, give or take a few months. Does it matter?” Chase swallowed and looked down at the ground. “That the minute I said yes, the minute I agreed, I lost a part of the woman I loved to the world I hate.” “Shit.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Chase, this isn’t over.” “I know that.” He met my gaze. “Because I’m still alive, and so is she.” “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that I have a bad feeling. I’m saying I don’t know what the fuck to do. I’m saying that if there’s any way—” He looked away. “I won’t tell her about your new car.” I closed my eyes. “I didn’t want this, Chase.” “Who does?” He said simply. “And if—” “Don’t tell me.” Our salesman, someone else that was in our pocket, walked toward me with paperwork.

“I’m gonna go drive Nixon’s car home for you.” “Chase,” I called at him. He finally stopped walking and turned. “Yeah?” “You’re a good man.” “I wish I was better,” was all he said as he got into his car. Something had changed in his demeanor, like he was preparing for a war he knew he wouldn’t survive. Like he’d already accepted his fate. And wasn’t happy with it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

El HE WAS GONE. The breakfast table was empty. I was barely able to choke down some cereal before I went back to my room and then hung my head as I walked through the shared bathroom and knocked on his door. The door creaked open. His bed was made. The lights were on.

But he was missing. Tears filled my eyes. How could I have ever thought that this man in this room would be anything but incredible to me? Dangerous and good all wrapped up in one perfect package. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew who it would be. I didn’t want to look at the text. Didn’t want to see a stupid emoji from Chris for as long as I lived. Voices sounded in the hall, I hurried back into my room just in time for Trace to walk in with Bee. They both had babies on their hips, making the mafia family life look like a goal that was actually achievable. I’d always wanted kids. It’s why I was so attached to Xavier’s. I’d held them when they cried. Told them stories when they were afraid. A part of me still longed to hold them — but they were better off with a real family, not memories of the one they were in with me. Where we took turns getting beat. Where I did the best I could to take the beatings

for them so they wouldn’t have to experience pain when you should only experience unconditional love. “Hey,” Bee’s bright smile was so opposite of Phoenix that it was weird. She looked like Tex in that moment, tall, commanding, and yet approachable. Her little boy was trying to pull her hair in a vain effort to get her attention. With a sigh, she handed him a fruit snack and kissed his head. “Mama’s talking, baby.” His eyes widened as he shoved the fruit snack in his mouth. “So,” Bee licked her lips and looked between me and Trace. “I was thinking we should hang out today, do something fun, get out of the house and leave the kids with the guys. Phoenix already said he’s down for a dad play date with Nixon and I figured since you were—” She stopped herself. “Here, it could be fun, besides you probably leave soon with Chris, right?” At the sound of his name, I wanted to puke. I didn’t want Chris anywhere near me. Why had I thought I wanted him?

His kiss paled in comparison to Dante. And now that Dante was gone. I choked back a sob and nodded my head. “Yeah, sure what did you guys have in mind?” “A movie!” Trace almost shouted and then frowned. “Sorry, we don’t usually go to the movies… so it’s always a big deal when we do.” It was my turn to frown. “Why don’t you guys go to movies?” “It’s a good place to get shot,” Bee said in a completely bored tone. “It’s dark, only one exit — you know that sort of thing, but Nixon very kindly bought out the entire theater for us and we’re bringing a few guys just in case.” My jaw dropped. “All of that for a movie?” “I’m really passionate about Ryan Reynolds.” Trace nodded her head solemnly. “We invited Mo and Val too, but Val might be too busy with Sergio so…” “Too busy?” I wondered aloud. Bee scrunched up her nose. “They’re still in that gross honeymoon stage where it’s their only purpose in life to christen every room in his

ginormous house.” She snorted. “I almost feel bad for Dante having to witness all of that.” My head jerked up. “What? Why would he be witnessing that?” Bee pressed her lips together, her face guilty. “He’s staying over there for a few weeks… it’s been hard on him being away from his twin.” “Oh.” Rejection slammed into me swiftly, painfully. “I guess that makes sense.” He’d left me. And I had no idea why. No more nights where he held me while I slept. No more shared bathroom. Just. Gone. “So…” Trace propped the baby onto her other hip. “We doing this?” “Yeah.” I ran my hands through my hair and put it up in a quick ponytail. “Let me just grab my stuff.” “Great!” Trace said as she wandered out of my room. Bee stayed. Her eyes were sad.

I hated that look. It held way too much pity. And it was all directed at me. “I’m married to the scariest of them all,” she said in a low voice. “I’m married to a man who tried to rape and murder one of my best friends.” She took one step, then two. “I sleep with a man who keeps not one, not two, but seven knives all within a foot of our bed.” She stopped when she was directly in front of my face, she matched me for height, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world. If you sent me to suburbia I would lose my mind. If you told me to get a normal job where I wasn’t flanked by security all hours of the day, I’d be so bored I’d lose my ever-loving mind.” She huffed out a sigh. “This life is what you make it, El. I’m scared every day of my life. But sometimes I wonder if that’s what makes me feel alive. Living isn’t being shut in a small safe box where nobody and nothing can hurt you — living is feeling the pain and making every second count.” She walked away.

I collapsed onto the bed and put my head in my hands, I didn’t even realize I was crying until someone handed me a tissue. I took it. Bee and Trace helped me to my feet and pulled me in for a hug, but not before Bee asked Trace if she packed her gun. It was a dangerous world for them. And they were some of the happiest people I’d ever met. I was the miserable one. And I wondered if that misery wouldn’t just increase the minute I left this house and stepped into Chris’s very safe, very boring, arms.

CHAPTER FORTY

Dante I FOLLOWED HER. Careful not to get too close as she ran around the city. She went grocery shopping, then she went to the bank. But she went inside. Hope she wasn’t about to rob something I would hate to explain that to Chase. When she walked out, she was shoving a pretty stacked envelope into her purse.

Ten minutes later she was pulling in front of the airport. I waited. When she didn’t come back. I put on a baseball cap, walked in and searched around the ticket counter. She just, disappeared. I put in a call to Sergio. “Yeah?” He answered gruffly. I didn’t even want to know why he sounded out of breath. “Hey, look up Mil’s phone, what’s her GPS location?” “Hold on.” He sounded annoyed. “Aren’t you supposed to be tailing her right now?” “It’s past noon, stop having sex at odd hours, it makes it difficult to know when to come home if you’re screwing on the dinner table next to the pasta.” He swore and then the sound of typing filled the empty space of the phone. “You still there?” “Yup.” I pulled the brim of my hat down to shield my face.

“Shit.” The typing got louder, moved faster. “She’s about ten thousand feet in the air.” “We have no idea where she’s going or if she’s coming back,” I muttered. “She’s coming back, she wouldn’t just leave Chase, I’m more concerned with the direction of the plane.” “Funny,” I sighed. “Because I’m more concerned about who owns whatever plane she’s on, because she sure as hell didn’t fly commercial, it’s only been fifteen minutes.” “Hell.” Sergio sounded exhausted. “Head home, I think I need to call Nixon.” I gripped the phone, my hand ached. “You sure that’s a good idea?” “Something’s going on, Dante. If this ends badly.” When this ends badly. “Nixon’s going to need to help us make sure Chase doesn’t do something stupid.” “Fine.” I licked my lips. “I’ll meet you at the house.” “Be ready.” Sergio sounded… not necessarily afraid but, like he was trying to warn me.

“For what?” I hated my own curiosity. He hesitated like he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell me. “Ever since the baby he’s been distracted, you’ve seen him blow up maybe one or two times. This, this is going to destroy him, he and Chase, they’re more like brothers, they’re the closest out of all of us. So if Chase is hurting, I can guarantee you that Nixon’s going to be feeling that same pain, kind of like the whole twin thing. Nixon’s been the sleeping beast… everything revolves around his wife, as it should,” He quickly added. “We’ve been in a sort of peace for the last six months, this is going to blow that all out to hell, and Nixon, well Nixon isn’t just a boss, he’s got everyone and everything in his pocket he will bring this down and he’ll kill whoever stands in his way.” “You and Chase both need to work on you prep talks, can’t you lie? Just once? And say hey Dante, no big, just head to the house and we’ll all have wine and laugh about this?” Sergio laughed then, “Welcome to the mafia.” “Yeah, yeah.” I hung up and made my way back to my new car, the one bought with blood. I stared

at it from the perfect rims to the shiny, glossy black paint. Did wars never end between families? Or did they just… regroup? Because it sure as hell felt like the world was crashing down on us again and the last time that happened. My father ended up dead.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Dante GRAVEL CRUNCHED BENEATH my boots as I got out of my car and made my way into Sergio’s house. “In the kitchen,” Sergio yelled. I rounded the corner and stopped. Nixon was bracing the counter with his hands, every muscle in his body strained against his skin like it was just waiting for the go ahead to burst free. His head jerked in my direction, cold blue eyes locked on mine. “Tell me everything.”

I dropped my keys onto the counter and pulled out a chair next to Sergio, a bit surprised that Phoenix and Frank weren’t at least there to hear me out, then again, they probably knew every single detail thanks to Sergio. “I don’t know what she’s involved in,” I finally said after I gave him every detail I’d been able to find. “But I know if Chase is worried, if he suspects her of something, then we need to be ready.” Nixon slammed his hand onto the counter so hard one of the wine glasses tipped over and shattered. “Do we have access to the De Lange accounts?” Sergio whistled. “I can probably gain access but she knows if we suspect anything that’s the first place we’d look.” Nixon jutted his finger at me, “You’re her new shadow. When she lands, you follow her everywhere, got it?” I frowned. “What about school? What about the Russians?” “We’ve got a bigger problem than fucking with the Russians right now,” Nixon roared. “In our own

family! If we’re broken from the inside, we’re finished!” He stalked toward me. “Understand this, I will kill Chase before I let him do something that he can’t take back. If killing him saves him from himself — I’d do it in a heartbeat and he’d want me to. He’s one of the best and he’s too involved to do shit. Which means, from here on out, you use your friendship to find out anything and everything you can.” I sucked in a breath. “Fine.” “Sergio,” Nixon reached into the back of his jeans, pulled out his gun and set it on the counter, it was pointed in my direction. I hoped it was by accident. “Keep hacking, keep digging.” “What about school?” I finally asked. “Looks suspicious if you stop going to class.” Nixon nodded slowly and then as if realization occurred he slammed his hands onto the counter again. “Shit!” I shrugged. “It also looks suspicious to have me work this hard to get into that little Russian gang only to suddenly lose interest.” “Can you handle all of it?” Nixon fired at me.

“Do I have a choice?” I snapped right back. “No,” he finally said. “We’re rarely given the luxury of choices in this life, at least good ones.” Sergio eyed me and nodded once. “He can do it, I have complete faith.” Nixon slammed the gun onto the table directly in front of me. “Take this with you everywhere, always wipe your prints just in case. Shoot first. Feel nothing. Mil isn’t in the position to give us justification for any secrets let alone leaving the City without permission.” “Permission?” I looked between them. Sergio’s eyebrows rose. “Apparently we didn’t teach you everything. You leave the city, you gotta ask the Capo. Tex would have known and right now Tex is ready to rip her apart limb by limb for even thinking it would be okay to step foot on a plane without his consent. Makes him look weak. Makes the families look stupid. Makes her a shiny red target.” “Shit.” I grabbed the gun. “Good thing I didn’t take that impromptu trip to Mexico last night.” Neither guy laughed.

Chase would have. My gut clenched. I hated pumping him for information. But I knew I had no choice, not now. Nixon was right, we weren’t given choices. You acted. And hoped to God, chose right. My head pounded with information while my heart still felt like it was cracking in two. I should be focusing on my new mission. Instead of smelling her on my skin. After two showers. “No distractions,” Nixon barked before he left, and the door slammed behind him. “That was…” I blew out a breath. “Different.” “I did warn you.” Sergio stood, his eyes fell to the table. “He killed his own father in cold blood with that gun, keep it safe.” “Pep talks,” I grumbled. “Work on it.” Sergio snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Maybe your sister can help.” I pointed the gun at him and smirked. “What was that?”

“And to think I was worried you wouldn’t fit in.” I turned off the safety. He rolled his eyes and left the room. I put the safety back on and laid the gun on the table in front of me, then started spinning it with my finger. A year ago I was bar tending and involved in underground fighting. A year ago I knew about my heritage but was never involved. A year ago I was innocent, blind, stupid. And now, now I had a gun from one of the most powerful mob bosses in history… laying in front of me like I’d earned the right to use it. It was a lot to take in. Normally I would talk to Val. But that relationship shattered the minute she married Sergio. I lost my best friend. Only to lose another. El. And now, my stomach clenched with the

thought that I could lose someone else, someone who deserved so much more than secrets and lies. Chase.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

El THE

MOVIE THEATER

was completely empty as

promised. I tried to paste smile on my face, which proved difficult when Chris kept sending me texts about not being able to wait until next week. Chris: So excited! Can’t wait to kiss you. Another heart emoji.

Chris: Thanks for giving us a chance, it’s going to be great, you’ll see! I finally just shoved the phone in my pocket, it’s not like it would be Dante on the other end calling or even wanting to talk to me. Apparently he was done talking. And moving on. Like I should be. I refocused myself on the movie as Trace gripped Bee’s arm, Ryan Reynolds popped onto the screen. Mo threw popcorn and Val handed me a piece of red licorice. It felt so normal. How could they act that normal when we had three armed men outside just to keep us safe? I frowned again. Safe. I was safe. In that theater, but safe was only a word, the men could easily get over taken if they weren’t evenly matched.

Safe. I gripped the arm rests as a gunshot sounded on the screen, nobody seemed fazed. I was sweating from one single sound. Another gunshot sounded; apparently, it was an action flick. And suddenly it was all too much to take. I stood and walked out. One of the men was by the door, I didn’t know his name but he seemed nice enough maybe five years older than me with buzzed hair close to his head and blue eyes. “You all right in there?” “Action movie. I’ve seen enough,” I said lamely. He laughed and crossed his arms. “Haven’t we all?” “You look like—” “I’m going to have to stop you right there,” He held out his hand. “I’m Ax, Sergio’s favorite and only brother.” I took his hand. “Ah makes sense, they only send the best huh?” “Not every day a trained assassin gets to watch Ryan Reynolds,” he joked.

I frowned. “Isn’t it demeaning?” “Protecting those you love is never demeaning,” he said with a simple shrug. I chewed my lower lip and leaned against the wall. “They want to marry me off to a really nice guy.” “I know.” “Ah so you know who I am?” “Doesn’t matter if I know who you are — do you know who you are?” He fired back softly. Stunned, I think my mouth dropped open a bit before I closed it and shook my head. “Uh, yeah, last I checked.” “Hmm, just making sure, you seem a bit confused.” “I’m at the movies with mob boss wives and talking to an associate who probably knows at least twelve different ways to kill me with a toothpick.” “Eh, more like seventeen,” He waved me off with a smile. The door to the theater was shoved open, Bee stepped out, her eyes were sad. Ax nodded and stepped away.

“You all right?” She reached for my arm. “Yeah.” I gulped. “Just, I’ve had enough action you know?” She grinned. “I’m sorry I didn’t think it would be this violent, it probably reminds you of… Xavier.” I froze. Because actually, I hadn’t thought of Xavier since Dante’s mouth roamed across my body. My mind was consumed by Dante, only Dante. The gunshots reminded me of his job. Of him pushing me into someone else’s arms. Of not being able to make my own choice. My head jerked up. “You would do it again? All of it?” Bee blinked. “This,” I spread my arms wide. “This life, the scary ass man you married, you’d do it all again?” Her lips tilted into a small smile. “Hell yes I would.” We sat and talked for the next hour and when we left the movie I felt lighter than I had in years. She told me scary Phoenix stories.

And then added in cute stories about their little boy. Making it impossible to be terrified of her husband when he got peed on so much. Making him seem less monstrous. And more man. Maybe that’s how all these men functioned with one hundred percent of everything they were born and bred to do. Living a life of extreme violence. And extreme blood. It somehow balanced everything. And oddly enough — it made me feel safe.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Dante IT WAS WEDNESDAY. It had been six days since I’d kissed her. Six days of lonely torture, sleeping with a pillow over my ears while trying not to listen to my sister and her new husband. Sleeping with this aching need that wouldn’t leave. Everything reminded me of her. Every. Damn. Thing.

I suddenly hated breakfast because she wasn’t sharing it with me, and when I drove to school without her by my side, I ended up spending more time punching the steering wheel than actually driving. I’d stopped off at Nixon’s in a moment of weakness to see if I could take El to school only to have her already gone. And see Mil waltz in with a huge smile on her face as she grabbed Chase’s hand and jerked him down the hall. As if nothing had even fucking happened. I’d had to look away, the joy on his face was too much, like maybe, finally, whatever shit she’d been doing was done, she was his again. It forced me to drive to class early so I wouldn’t glare at her across the table or say something I’d regret. And driving to school early just left me alone with my thoughts way too much. And was obviously bad for the steering wheel of my new SUV. The one Mil could have easily seen. I’d been careless.

Because I was that desperate to see El. Once I found an empty space, I killed the ignition and rubbed my temples with my fingers, digging into the constant headache with such force I saw spots. I waited for the inevitable. For the minute El would get out of the car. Five minutes. Four. Three. Two. I sucked in a breath as the black Mercedes pulled up. She slowly got out, adjusting her skirt. My eyes lowered, God those legs were incredible, shoving my face between them had surpassed every vivid fantasy I’d ever had about her. My mouth fucking watered for more, my body strained toward her as she pulled off her sunglasses and shoved them in her messenger bag. And before I could stop myself, I was getting out of my car. I was maybe two feet away from her when a body blocked my view.

A very Chris like body. He pulled her in for a hug and yelled. “Surprise!” I almost puked my guts out right on the sidewalk then pulled Nixon’s gun on him and fired two rounds. The Hell? Before she could even say anything, Chris was kissing her mouth. Correction. My mouth. My body. I licked that body, up and down, inside and out. I swayed on my feet and watched, waited for her to push him away, to say he wasn’t what she wanted. Instead, she hung her head and then smiled up at him. “It’s good to see you too.” The knife twisted into my gut, and twisted, and twisted. She looked past him, directly at me. And then looked away. Like I was just a figment of her imagination. Like I didn’t exist at all. I don’t know how long I stood there, watching

them walk to class, it was at least ten minutes until I was able to shove the angry haze of jealousy far enough into my brain to actually function by putting one foot in front of the other. I was completely useless during class and only managed to catch half the material my business communications professor said. When class ended I jumped out of my seat and went in search of El. Her class wasn’t out yet. I waited by the door. When I saw the outline of her body, when I smelled her perfume mixed with that shampoo that smelled like peaches, I snatched her back against me, pinning her against the wall. I tilted her chin toward me, her skin was softer than I remembered six days ago, her eyes more clear. Her lower lip trembled. I ran my thumb across it and closed my eyes as I leaned forward and inhaled. She’d always smelled so damn good, like fruit and vanilla cream. “You left,” El accused.

“No choice.” I kept my eyes closed, if I looked at her, I’d want her more than I already did and my control was already snapping with every inhale, with every small innocent touch of my hands against her skin. “If you didn’t want me around you could have just told me, you didn’t have to flee the house, Dante.” My eyes snapped open. “Is that what you really think? That I don’t want you around?” Her glare said it all. “My tongue was inside you,” I reminded her. “You were naked, shaking beneath me, I spread these thighs,” I kicked her legs apart, shoving my knee in between them. She let out a little gasp. “Licked between these gorgeous legs,” I hissed. “And you think I don’t want you around?” El didn’t say anything, her cheeks tinged pink as she swallowed and looked down. “Why?” “Because you aren’t mine,” I pressed my cheek against hers, my lips rubbed against her ear. “Had I stayed. You would be. In every way. And I’m not that much of a bastard to take everything from you

— when you’re leaving.” She was quiet. “You are leaving still, right?” Her eyes locked on mine. “Give me a reason to stay.” “I’m carrying a gun in my jeans, a knife in my boot, and hits on three different people right now, you wanna stay? For that?” “No.” She kissed my cheek and whispered, “But I would stay for you.” Before I could ask what she meant, she was already shuffling through the crowds of students going to class. I slammed my hand against the wall, hey at least it wasn’t the steering wheel this time. “Lady troubles?” Andrei’s voice was really starting to grate on my nerves. “Always,” I lied. “Something I can do for you?” “Business… is good.” I nodded. “Great. What’s that have to do with me?” “You help us with the next shipment, distribution, and we’ll give you a big cut. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a really easy way to go to prison.” I sighed. “So I guess I’m in. Does this mean I get to find out who we’re working with?” I used we on purpose so he’d think of me as being on their side. When I wanted to kill them all. “You don’t need details.” I gritted my teeth. “Actually since it’s my life I think I do need details. Especially since I’m most likely doing all of this against my own family — I joined you — basically spat in the Italians’ face and now you say I don’t need details?” He shoved me against the wall. “Not here.” “Where then?” I was done being patient. He looked from left to right. “It would be presumptuous to assume that you’re irreplaceable.” “Then call me presumptuous.” I grinned. He scowled. “We’ll be in touch, it’s a big shipment, there will be no fights this week, we have to keep a low profile during this time.” By we, he meant him. The only son left in the Petrov family. The youngest of them all.

And somehow, the most dangerous. Because a man who had nothing left to lose — against men who had everything to lose? It never ended well.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

El SINCE CHRIS SURPRISED me, it seemed only natural, normal even to have a giant family dinner. On a Wednesday night. Wine was poured. And I was seated directly across from Dante. It would have been easier if he ignored me. Instead, his eyes had been locked on my face since we all sat down. His blue eyes so intense that I had trouble not squirming in my seat. And I was

reminded about our conversation. About his tell. About him looking at my soul. I grabbed my water glass with a shaky hand and took a sip. Frank stood. Everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads. Everyone but Dante. No, he kept his eyes glued to mine. “Amen.” Frank made the motion of the cross. “So…” Chris passed me a plate of something I wouldn’t be able to stomach if Dante didn’t stop staring at me. “Business as usual?” The sound of forks scraping across glass plates had my nerves on high alert because they suddenly all. Stopped. “We try not to talk business during meals,” Nixon reminded him in a lethal tone that had Chris paling a bit next to me. “I see.” Chris cleared his throat and suddenly didn’t seem fazed. He grabbed another piece of chicken, while I tried not to pass out. “So,” Chase smirked in my direction. His face

promised trouble. My stomach clenched. “Chris.” And here we go. “Once you take El back to Seattle with you, what’s the end game? You gonna start trying for kids right away? Maybe buy a nice minivan? A small dog? I say dream big, am I right?” Dante reached for Chase’s wine and started chugging. I didn’t blame him. Nor did anyone stop him. “Actually,” Chris beamed, the guy beamed as if he was so damn proud of whatever idea was about to float out of his perfect little model head. “I was thinking we’d move out of the parents’ house and —” “Parents?” Chase, Dante, and I said in unison while Tex and Nixon shared a look across the table. Even Phoenix was smiling down at his chicken. What the hell? Chris laughed. “Yeah well why move out when we live in a ten thousand square foot house? It’s not like I live in their basement and play Warcraft all day.” “Damn it, and here I thought you could help me

beat the next level,” Chase teased. Chris joined in with some fake laughter that had me praying for lightning to strike the table so I could either die or leave. Those were my only two options at this point. Death or survival by hiding in my room. “As I was saying, I was thinking I’d move out and we could go pick out a nice house together, nothing too big—” “Oh, of course.” Chase nodded like he totally understood everything Chris was saying and agreed, you know because his house wasn’t going to be twice the size of Chris’s parents. They were building a moat. He was about to live in a castle with one other individual, they were going to need one of those airport sidewalks to get from point A to point B. “Yeah,” Chris shoveled a bite of chicken in his mouth, chewed twice, and then started talking again. A piece of chicken fell out of his mouth onto his plate. It was a small piece. I side-eyed it, then glanced up to see Dante giving me a knowing smirk. Like he knew how completely turned off I

was from this guy’s chewing — from the conversation. From everything. Chris kissed like he chewed — with the sole purpose to get to the next step, digestion, more food, sex. It was a means to an end. Kissing Dante was a feast in and of itself. I drank more water. “And as far as kids…” Stop talking, Chris, just stop talking. “I think we should get started right away. I mean neither of us are getting any younger, so why not?” Sure, why not? Having children was totally the same as picking out a house or a paint color or moving. I pressed a hand to my chest to keep from choking up the water I’d just drank. “Hmm, have you asked El about any of this?” Dante finally joined the conversation. “What if she hates kids? Hell, what if she hates houses and wants to live in an RV. You gonna buy her an RV?” “Um…” Chris looked between us. “Yeah, I guess I would.” “That’s nice.” Dante tipped back the rest of

Chase’s wine. “Isn’t that nice everyone? What a fucking gentleman this guy, buying her whatever her heart desires… because… you love her right?” Chris’s eyes narrowed. “I think I could, yeah, what’s not to love?” “Absolutely nothing.” Dante’s eyes met mine, the intensity was back, the soul-searching gripping flicker grew behind the icy blue gaze. “What about you, Dante?” Chris asked leaning his elbows on the table, like an animal. “Anyone special in your life.” “Yup.” He said it so quickly I almost got whiplash from the small time it took for me to look from Chris’s elbows to Dante’s smug face. “Or I guess you could say, I had her…” He didn’t once look at me. The table fell silent. “She’s got legs for days, though that’s not the first thing I noticed about her.” Chris grinned seemingly excited the spotlight was off of him. “Oh yeah, what’s the first thing you noticed?” Dante was quiet and then he spoke slowly, confidently. “Her pain.”

Chris frowned and looked around the table, his eyes finally landing on me. I was too stunned to speak. “And the sexy as hell way that she rose above it, continues to rise above it, every day of her life.” He stood. “I loved that girl.” “What happened to her?” Chris asked his eyes ping ponging between me and Dante. “Beauty was never supposed to end up with the beast, Chris, she marries the prince. That’s what happened.” He grabbed the wine bottle, scooted his chair back, and walked out. I was breathing so hard I was afraid I was going to pass out. I made eye contact with Chase. His face was indifferent except for the small smile that curved his lips and the quick wink he sent me all before he spoke. “Hey, Chris, have I ever told you the story about the white horse?” “I uh,” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to use the bathroom.” I was calm until I reached the hallway. Calm until I reached my room.

And then I became a hot mess when I walked through the bathroom and found Dante in his. Barefoot with jeans and a T-shirt on, drinking wine straight from the bottle. “Underage drinking.” I nodded. “Rough day?” He shrugged. “Rough existence, and I think if I’m old enough to kill in cold blood, I’m allowed alcohol whenever the hell I want it.” “Good point.” The minute our eyes met. A buzzing awareness filled the space between my ears. My head was full of it full of the way just being in the same room with him made me feel. “Tell me the truth,” I pleaded. “Did you mean it? Any of it?” “El,” He groaned and placed the bottle on his desk, before turning back around and holding my face roughly between his two hands. “Every. Word.” Tears welled in my eyes. “Then I guess that’s that.” His nostrils flared as he dropped his hands from my face and ran them through his dark hair. I

expected him to give up. To do the noble thing. To be the guy I didn’t want him to be anymore. Instead, when he turned back around his eyes were wild, the monster was back — and I was relieved. “Fuck this.” Our mouths slammed together in a painful kiss as he lifted me into his arms, my legs tangled around his as we stumbled backward hitting his desk, sending the wine bottle flying along with everything else on top of it. And the whole time his mouth never left mine. This side of him, this wild side, I would never get enough of it, enough of the way he angled his mouth over mine or pulled my hair to get better access just painful enough to be erotic. His fingers dug into my scalp only to leave as he pulled my shirt over my head. A ripple of tension pulled and snapped again when his teeth met my shoulder like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bite me or kiss me again. He chose both. I swayed into his strong arms, trying to gain a footing, or some sort of control, but he only kissed

me again, the taste of wine invaded my mouth, it was rich, intoxicating — heady just like Dante. Words weren’t spoken. Maybe they just weren’t needed. Not when the line had already been crossed. Dante’s expression was full of pain when he finally broke free enough to pace in front of me. “He can’t have you.” I nodded, tears filled my eyes. “Not when someone else already does.” Dante stilled. “I won’t stop. I’m seriously lacking in self-control in every area in my life, El. When it comes to you it’s a miracle I have any.” His lips were wet from my kiss, his shirt looked like I’d been twisting it in an effort to keep him closer and somehow there was a scratch down the side of his neck. I think I made it. I bit down on my lip then jumped into his arms. He caught me, like he knew I was going to jump. He kissed me without reservation, this time, pawing at my bra before saying. “Next time.” Next time?

He pulled my skirt up over my hips. “Damn,” He groaned, pulling my underwear aside as I fumbled to unbutton his pants. They slid, and hung on his hips. No boxers. No briefs. Heaven. I reached for him. He gritted his teeth. “Any other time I would die happy to let you touch me, any other time I’d think I wasn’t doing my job if you weren’t screaming out my name, but your guy, the one you’re about to dump, the one I’ve been itching to punch, is two rooms down.” “Meaning?” I stole more words from his mouth with my kisses. He let me. His tongue plunged inside making me see stars, the way he kissed wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced. Every flick of his tongue sent me further and further into darkness I never wanted to wake up from. “Fuck, you’re killing me, El.” His lips found mine again, two more times, and then he was sitting me on the freezing desk. “Just… you know what? I

don’t even care, scream all you want, yell my name, make sure he knows you’re mine and that nobody deserves you.” “I don’t want to be deserved,” I confessed. “I just want to be yours.” We locked eyes, and then he was lifting me to the edge of the desk and I was trying to figure out how I didn’t realize how much the guy had been packing. He surged forward invading me so hard and fast that I shrieked and then sucked in a much needed breath. “Okay?” He stilled. “Because I’m trying not to split you in half, I swear—” “More.” I gripped his elbows and slid onto him more forcefully as he lifted one of my legs and angled inside. I gripped his shirt like a lifeline, pulling him harder and harder against me until I couldn’t breathe, until all I felt were his thrusts and my own body pulsing around his length. “Shit, El.” Dante braced his left hand against the table and kissed me again, lips slid, tongues tangled in an effort to feel more, to go deeper, to get more

out of this small moment. A blast of heat hit me, my thighs clenched around him. “El,” he said my name reverently. “I’m here, just let go.” I’d never let go. Had no idea what it felt like. And had no idea it could be like this. “Then it’s over,” I said with an anguished voice. “This can’t be over.” “Look at me,” Dante demanded. Our eyes met. “It’s not over — because it’s just beginning.” “Promise me.” I clenched harder. He cupped my chin, and kissed me softly on the lips before whispering in my ear. “I swear.” It was all I needed to hear, to find my release to give my body completely over to both monster and man. He surged forward as the desk slammed against the wall behind us, his kiss was rough, possessive as he climaxed, his breathing still ragged. “I have an idea.” Voice rough, he pushed the

hair out of my face. “We should stay here forever. On this desk, have people send food. That sort of thing.” I laughed a real laugh and kissed him again, just because I could. “If only, huh?” “If only,” he repeated with one last brush of his lips against my cheek.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Dante I LICKED MY lips, tasting her there, craving more. I pulled up my pants. She tugged down her skirt. And I kissed her again like a greedy bastard. She let me, hooking her legs around me yet again. “Shit.” Our foreheads knocked together softly. “At this rate we’ll never get back to dinner.” “You think they’ll know?” she asked in a small

voice. I eyed her mussed hair, swollen lips, and fuck-me gaze. I looked away. “Not at all.” She smacked me on the arm. “You didn’t look at me.” “Because I’m lying.” I cupped her face and gave her one more kiss, sucking her bottom lip so hard that it made a popping noise before I pulled away. “Just… act normal.” “Normal.” She chewed that same bottom lip. I groaned and ran my hands over my head and face. “I’ll go first.” She gave me a jerky nod. I quickly left the room and shut the door behind me, then took my time walking down the hall, arrogant as fuck because my dick was still pulsing with the aftershock of being inside her. The kitchen was loud as usual. But the minute I took my seat. Silence enveloped me. I reached for my water and locked eyes with Chris. A smug expression crossed my face before I could stop myself. My entire body was gloating

from the way I could feel my muscles straining against my clothes, my lips swollen from her kisses, my hair mussed from her hands. My shirt wrinkled from her constant tugging. Eat your heart out, Chris. Mine. “So,” Chase spoke first. “You just skipped dinner and went straight for dessert huh?” He winced, someone must have kicked him under the table. I shrugged. “What can I say? You know I have a sweet tooth.” “Man loves his cookies.” Chase nodded. “Nothing better than a soft, warm,” I grinned at Chris. “Cookie.” His eyes narrowed. El walked swiftly back into the room, her hands were fidgety as she patted down her hair and took her seat next to Chris. The best part? She didn’t look like she’d just been screwed against a desk — she looked like she’d just been loved. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were a cherry red, and her eyes, they kept darting over to me

even though I could tell she was trying not to look at me. “What about you?” Chris turned to her. “You eat desert too?” Everyone watched, with rapt attention. “Dante buys her cookies,” Chase said cheerfully. “So she probably licked some of his — wouldn’t be the first time.” I jabbed him hard in the ribs. Chris shoved his chair back and eyed Nixon. “A word?” Nixon glared at me before nodding at Chris, they left, the door to Nixon’s study slammed shut. And utter chaos ensued. “HOLY SHIT!” Chase tossed his napkin on the table. “We could hear you! Nixon said he left the TV on, but c’mon man! No TV makes that kinda noise unless it’s two a.m. on Starz!” El covered her face with her hands. Tex clapped slowly. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He lifted his glass in my direction while Phoenix and Sergio exchanged money. “Wait!” I stood and pointed. “What the hell!

You guys took bets?” Phoenix didn’t even look guilty. “Entertaining as hell watching you try to do the noble thing.” “One word,” Sergio put his arm around Val who refused to make eye contact with me, for obvious reasons. “Mafia.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked the table. “It means,” Chase chuckled. “That sometimes our moral compass is a bit… skewed, I was almost afraid yours was broken, what guy would walk away from that.” “Stare at her like that again and I fight you,” I growled. Chase held up his hands. “I rest my case.” “Bastards all of you,” I grumbled. And then Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill and slid it toward Phoenix too. “You too?” I roared. “Frank, man that’s low, was anyone on my side?” Blank stares. I think El wanted to crawl under the table and

hide by the time Nixon and Chris returned. Chris looked at El, then at me, then back at El and said, “You’re letting the better man walk away, I hope you know that.” I don’t remember throwing my chair back, I don’t even know how I made it to his side of the room so fast. I lifted him up against the wall, and pressed a knife to his throat. “Say it again, I dare you.” The room was quiet again. “Say it!” I roared. Nobody was stopping me. The anger was over powering, I shook with it, shook with the need to cut out his throat for saying something so — true in front of El. I knew I was the lesser man. “Don’t you fucking think,” I said in a low voice, “I know she deserves more than this.” I pulled the knife away and shook my head. “Get out.” He hesitated. “Wrong choice.” I gripped him by the shirt and shoved him toward the door. He turned around, gave me a disgusted look and left.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I turned back to the dinner table. Everyone acted like nothing happened. Everyone except Mil. She locked eyes with me, then narrowed them at El, like I’d somehow just complicated her life in a big way. Chase took one look at my expression and followed my eyes. Mil looked down and then excused herself from the table. Ten minutes later. And she was pulling her car out of the driveway. Chase saw, we all saw. “If she’s hiding something she’s doing it in plain sight,” Nixon said as we cleaned dishes. “Which means only one thing.” I handed him a towel. “What’s that?” “Damage control.” “On her end?” He nodded. “She knows we know. She has nothing left to lose, and a desperate person is not someone I want to fight.” “Because they don’t fight fair?” I guessed.

“Because they have nothing left to lose.” He hung his head. “And we have everything.” The timing couldn’t have been worse, El walked in the room holding Nixon’s baby girl, Trace laughed at something El said. Nixon’s massive body shuddered like he’d just been hit with something. “I’ve got this,” I reassured him. “I’ve been tailing her every day, we’ll figure something out.” He sighed. “El doesn’t want Chris, she wants you.” My body heated at the thought of being with her again. “Even if I’m bad for her.” “Let her be the judge of that.” Once El approached, Nixon kissed his girl on the head and motioned to both of us. “My office, now.” I grabbed El’s hand, needing to touch her for reassurance. It was going to be fine. I’d protect her until my dying breath. Funny how I never wanted to be put in that position, it made me so angry I couldn’t see straight.

But now I saw the anger for the farce it was. I wasn’t angry. I was terrified.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

El POLISHED WOOD, EXPENSIVE art, a sideboard with at least seven different kinds of expensive whiskey, and the smell of cigars — and in the corner a flat screen TV. His office was as big as the bedroom they were letting me stay in. Everything was chic, pricey, and modern. Xavier never had nice things, I remember one time having to beg him to buy groceries, he didn’t care about taking care of anyone or anything but

himself. His idea of being in the mafia was all about destruction. Nixon’s family was about life. Dante released my hand as the door shut behind us, letting Phoenix in the room. He stood silent behind us as Nixon paced in front. My anxiety skyrocketed when Nixon didn’t speak for another two minutes before putting his hands on his hips and facing us. “El, I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.” I sucked in a sharp breath. Dante tried to lunge for Nixon. Phoenix held him back. “What the hell, Nixon!” Dante roared. “Let me finish,” Nixon snapped. My stomach dropped. I had nowhere to go. Nobody to protect me. No family. Outside of the Italian mafia — the only place I could run was to my own death. I should have accepted Chris. Should have just accepted the card that was dealt.

My head suddenly felt heavy like it was going to roll off my body as I started falling to the ground. Dante’s arms caught me instantly. Phoenix must have let him go. I just needed to sit. Or something. Dante knelt at my side while Nixon continued to speak as if I hadn’t just nearly passed out from the last sentence he shot into the universe. “You can’t stay,” he repeated, unnecessarily since the first time nearly sent me into hysterics. Funny how the prison now felt like home. “Unless you marry him.” “Him?” I looked around. “But he left.” “Not him.” Nixon finally cracked a smile and nodded his head to Dante. “I meant him.” He crossed his arms. “So what will it be, Dante?” Dante didn’t as much as flinch. He opened his mouth and closed it. “I warned you,” Nixon said in a dangerously low voice. “I warned you what would happen, Dante. You knew she had to get the protection of one of our names, and now that Chris is out of the

picture we’re shitty on any other option. Finding someone trustworthy takes time, finding someone single, someone who knows our business but promises to stay out of it? Do you realize the kind of favors I had to pull to get Chris’s family to accept the terms? He broke off a two-year engagement!” Nixon’s voice rose. “That’s the power behind my name. He gave up everything. And you rubbed his face in it. I expected it of you, I did, I just didn’t expect you to wait until he had to hear every fucking second of you doing it!” My body shook. A half hour ago, I’d never been happier to be in Dante’s arms. And now? Now I was questioning everything. Were they just pretty words? From a man who wanted everything he knew he couldn’t have? “I’m sorry.” Dante’s voice cracked. “Then do something about it,” Nixon shot back. “Every second she’s under our roof, she puts everyone in danger, every second she’s not aligned with us, she puts herself in danger. This is a war she won’t survive if we allow her to leave. And it’s a war we can’t win if she stays without our blood.”

“Why?” I felt my body sway. “Why do they want me dead so bad? I never heard anything. Never saw anything.” My voice rose an octave. “I was a sex slave!” Nixon didn’t answer. Phoenix, however, did. “All we know…” Phoenix’s eyes, the way he looked through a person, it was like he was a walking nightmare, a walking reminder of what happened when you’ve seen so much evil that it’s become a part of you. Sometimes, Phoenix terrified me with one look more than Xavier did with one touch. “Is that they’re convinced that you’ve seen something, we just don’t know what. It has to do with your blood as much as it has to do with what your family did for the Petrovs.” I tried to keep my body language neutral. “Papa ran fights.” Phoenix’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Yeah,” I frowned. “He ran underground fights for Petrov, and then one day he was just… killed. I was handed over to Xavier, end of story.” “Wrong.” Phoenix gave me the closest look of

compassion I’d probably ever see on his face. “You don’t knock off a small-time bookie, El. It’s not worth the wasted bullet. You knock off informants, rats, loose ends. He was one of the three, and I bet my entire stack of dirty black folders that he may have been all three, it’s the only reason you were given to Xavier and not killed right away. He liked the package and you were the spoils of war.” Dante tensed next to me, like he just now realized the horrors that I’d seen at that man’s hand. “So, what now?” I shrugged. “I just walk out of here and wait for someone to shoot me?” My chest cracked. Dante still hadn’t spoken up. He was staring at his hands like they had the answer. When all I wanted him to do was react. It was like the monster was hibernating and the man was incapable of speech. “No.” He finally stood. “She’s not walking out of here, she’s not going anywhere.” I held my breath. “If there was a way out of this—” He glanced down at me, as tears filled my eyes. “I’d take it, not

because I don’t want you every second of every day, but because I don’t know how to keep you safe from this world — and from me.” “Sometimes,” Nixon nodded to Phoenix who rapped his knuckles across the door, it opened, Tex walked in with a Bible. “We just have to trust that God will be just in allowing us a few years of happiness with those we love before they’re taken by disease, accident, war—” He shrugged. “Some of us aren’t that lucky, some are. Which is why we cling to every damn moment we get—” “And sleep with one eye open,” Tex said cheerfully. Dante’s face was one of pure torment, like he blamed himself for me having to marry him when all I wanted to do was shout yes and then slap him for being so stupid. How do you prove to a man that you trust them with every part of you? Even though you know he’ll most likely break every last piece of your heart without even knowing it? He wasn’t gentle, Dante. He wasn’t safe. But I knew, he was good.

And in a world full of hate. Full of destruction. Good was all I had. I prayed love would follow.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Dante I EXPECTED TO at least be given a warning. I expected to spend the next few nights in her arms, convincing her, convincing myself that I was a good enough man for her when I knew in my soul — I wasn’t. Nixon didn’t give either of us the luxury of getting used to the idea. Would she hate me? Would she resent me?

When all I ever wanted was to take care of her? El suddenly stood, and faced me. I expected tears, confusion, anger, a hell of a lot of anger. Instead she unraveled the bandage still covering her arm and dropped it to the floor, then grabbed my hand and placed it over the almost healed wound. “Cut me.” “El, what are—” “He marked me, put his initial on me, right here. When you spilled my blood, you missed.” “What the hell do you mean when he spilled your blood?” Nixon roared. “I may have left out some pertinent details from you,” I snapped. “Chase knew.” “Oh well that makes everything better,” Tex said sarcastically. “Please,” El pleaded, her eyes filled with tears. “Take your knife, cover the X, make it go away, give me a new scar—” She swayed toward me. “Give me you.” “You don’t have to do this, El. We can get you a

new tattoo.” “I’m not getting into a new marriage with his name still on my skin!” She yelled. “It has to be you!” The last time I cut her she thought I was trying to hurt her, to ask me to do it again, in front of others, to give her pain instead of pleasure right before we said our vows. I didn’t want to be humbled. It felt wrong to be honored. And yet, I was. I pulled out my knife. Nixon moved toward me. Tex stopped him, while Phoenix shook his head. The X was small, in the middle of her forearm, it looked like he’d etched his initial in her skin with a knife, the cut was jagged, deep. “He did this to you.” My hands shook. “Until the scar stayed,” she revealed. I didn’t warn her. Tensing wasn’t going to help any of us. Instead I ran the knife along the edge of the X letting it dig deep enough for her to start bleeding,

and then I quickly curved the knife creating a half circle. When I pulled back, the X looked like a bloody D. And I wondered if that would be my legacy, if she would look down at her arm and hate me just like she hated him. Blood rolled down her arm, slowly dripping onto the hardwood floor. Tex stepped forward and placed the bible beneath our hands, but not before taking my knife and sliding it across my forearm and pushing our hands together, our blood mixed and slid drop by drop onto the Bible. He wiped it off, then opened it and began to speak. I couldn’t hear anything except for the own hammering of my heart as El watched me watch her. She barely blinked. Her lips trembled. I just wanted to kiss her pain away — soak up all the fear.

And then it was over. Five minutes. That should have lasted a beautiful woman hours, days of celebration, picking out dresses and shoes, inviting friends and family — tasting cakes. It was done. I hung my head. Chris was right. She was marrying the wrong man. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to spend a lifetime trying to be the right one. Even if that meant I kept my blood-filled hands to myself. “You can kiss now,” Tex said. We leaned in at the same time, she sighed against my mouth. It should have been a sad kiss. A chaste kiss. It wasn’t. I couldn’t help myself. Holding her — knowing she was mine, knowing that mouth would never touch anyone else’s, I groaned, dipping my hands into her messy hair, only to have someone jerk me away. “Kind of how you got in this predicament,

Dante.” Nixon cleared his throat. “Got carried away.” I cleared my throat. Tex winked over at me. “Happens to the best of us, trust me whenever I kiss Nixon’s sister I get a mini orgasm right near my d—” Nixon punched him in the stomach. Tex doubled over and coughed. “Worth it.” The guys walked out one by one, Phoenix stayed. Licking his lips, he looked between the two of us, then handed me an envelope. “I’m glad I was right.” I frowned down at the envelope. “What’s this?” “Take it.” He shrugged. “Think of it as a wedding present from the Nicolasi family — from your father. Go, have fun, I can buy you one day away from this Hell. And then, you’re back on Mil tracking, and you,” He nodded to El. “Are back at classes as if nothing ever happened.” “Something big’s going down this weekend.” I sighed and handed the envelope back. “I don’t think it’s smart to miss one day of school. Andrei may suspect something.”

Phoenix seemed to think about this then shrugged. “I’ll force the professors to go on strike tomorrow, easy, they’ll have miraculously recovered by Friday. Anything else?” “You can do that?” El gasped. Phoenix snorted, a small smile played at his lips. “Sweetheart, I can do whatever the hell I want.” “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Tex poked his head back in. “And since I was eavesdropping, this means I get to help, right? It’s been too long since I’ve shot something.” “It was yesterday.” Phoenix stated slowly. “But yes, you can help.” I was uneasy about the entire thing. And maybe a little nervous not having anything else occupying my mind but El. Shit what if after being with just me, and not needing me for protection or my gun — what if she hated what she saw? “I don’t know, Phoenix.” “You’ll go.” His eyes flashed and then softened. “Shit, you’re going to make me say it, fine I’ll say it. You take that day together because I can’t promise you more, all right? I can’t control

everyone and everything, and while I know something big is coming this weekend, none of us knows how big. So you’re going to take that fucking day, and you’re going to enjoy it, because it may be your last. Got it?” I jerked the envelope back. “Got it.” El let out a shaky breath. “Sorry,” Phoenix grumbled. “I’ve been working on my bed side manner.” “It shows,” I lied. He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah right. Go, enjoy, and take full advantage. Oh and, take his.” “His?” I repeated. “Your dad’s Rolls Royce, drove it over earlier, take it.” My jaw dropped. El squeezed my hand tighter. “There’s no bombs in it right?” “Course not,” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Checked it myself.” “That’s not exactly comforting.” “Go,” he said again. This time I listened.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

El I’D NEVER SEEN a more beautiful car in my entire life. It had a little Just Married sign on the back of it. I’d taken ten minutes to pack a bag. And in that ten minutes, the poor car had been decorated, it had cans hanging off the end of it, and enough ribbon to make someone like Dante probably want to commit a violent act toward someone or something.

I’d been married twice in my life. The first time, I was drugged so I’d say yes. I was raped by my own husband. Beat. Humiliated. But this time? This time, I’d said yes with a clear head, I’d kissed my husband because I wanted to. I didn’t need a fancy dress. I just needed him. Tears filled my eyes as the wives all gathered around the car and shrieked with excitement like it was the best day of their lives. “EL!” Trace yelled then charged toward me while Mo took my duffel bag, unzipped it and shoved a few small boxes inside. “Wear the red one.” “No!” Mo stood. “Wear the black.” “Why does it matter?” I asked. “We made bets.” Bee shrugged like it was normal, is that all this family did? Just bet on my relationship with Dante down to the color of, I opened up one of the boxes and flushed. Lingerie.

On the color of lingerie. Great. I’d never worn anything so transparent. What if Dante hated it? What if he didn’t want to touch me? His hand was forced, even though he said he cared — did that mean that this fantasy between us — this pull would end? I didn’t have time to think more about it before I was scooped up by Tex and placed in the car. “Welcome to the family.” He kissed my right cheek. Frank followed, Nixon, Chase, and finally Phoenix. He shut the door behind him. I tried to calm my nerves when Dante got in on his side. And failed. He had no right to look so calm. So untouchable. Gorgeous. “You ready?” He was looking at everything but me. My heart sank. “Yeah, I guess, sure, yeah.” His lips twitched. “That was a hell of a lot of yeahs, El.”

“Ignore me. It’s been a long day.” I reached for his hand. He took it and squeezed. Someone slammed the hood of the car. I jumped a foot as Tex gave Dante a middle finger salute. Dante hit the accelerator and pulled down the driveway. “So, what was in the envelope?” “Keys.” His jaw flexed. “An address, and…” He gulped. “And my mom’s diary.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Dante MY SLUGGISH

BRAIN

wasn’t processing anything

past the fact that I was driving a car my dad had once driven. How often had he touched this steering wheel? Did he have someone drive him? What the hell kind of secrets was Phoenix keeping from me, if he had my father’s car this entire time and just randomly slaps me in the face with it.

All those things ran through my mind right along with the fact that El hadn’t stopped shaking since the minute she sat inside it. My mood probably wasn’t helping matters. I was torn between wanting to pull over and kiss the hell out of her — or just getting an accident and doing it while driving. It was making me insane. Knowing she was mine, and not getting to taste her again and again and again. I muttered a curse under my breath as I waved through the thick Chicago traffic, only to find myself completely outside the city. Frowning, I followed the directions on my phone. And pulled down a little dirt road. “Are you sure this is right?” El asked. I shrugged. “I honestly have no clue, but,” I reached for my gun with my left hand and kept driving. “Just in case.” Her eyes darted between the gun and my face. I could feel her watching my reactions to everything I was seeing.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I promised. “I know.” She said it quickly with confidence I probably didn’t deserve, then again she’d seen me in action she knew how quickly I drew blood without thinking twice about it. I wonder if that made her feel better or worse. The dirt road seemed to go on forever. Until it finally made a small circle and brought us in front of a looming ranch house. Something about it felt familiar, but I had no idea why. It had a wraparound porch and looked like something you’d see in Wyoming or Montana or— I looked at the address again, the slip of paper Phoenix had given me, and turned it over. Nothing. Unsure if someone lived there or if we were about to get shot at, I pulled to my phone and called Phoenix, putting him on speakerphone, “I take it you made it to the house?” His tone was amused. “Right, what exactly is this house?” “It’s a house.”

“Yup, got that,” I snapped, God maybe he was right, maybe I did need a day. “But why here? Is it some sort of safe house?” “It’s completely off grid,” Phoenix explained. “That’s how your father wanted it,” He hesitated. “When he built it for your mother.” “Come again?” I rasped. “It was her favorite place in the world — Frank’s ranch house in Wyoming. So, being the competitive dick Luca was, he decided that if she ever came back to Chicago, came back to this life, he’d have a replica waiting for her.” I couldn’t find words, didn’t know what to say, these people, they were strangers to me, people who gave me life but never walked me through it. People who loved as hard as they warred. “Dante, your father’s will — he deeded the house to you, for you to give your wife should you ever come back into the fold — one final gift, someplace safe for your family — something he never had.” “It’s ours?” El choked out then covered her mouth with her hand. “We have a house?”

Phoenix chuckled. “Not just any house, El, you’re completely off grid, nobody knows it exists, just make sure to turn your GPS off your cell phones. We’ll see you tomorrow.” “Phoenix,” I rasped, finding my voice. “Thank you.” Silence and then heartless Phoenix’s voice cracked. “Love her well, Dante. We don’t know our future. Twenty-four hours.” “Twenty-four hours,” I repeated, then ended the call. “We have a house,” El said for the third time. “An actual house!” I’d never seen her so animated, so excited, it rubbed off on me because hell yeah we didn’t just have a house. No, because houses could be built. My father had left me something I’d never had. He’d left me a home.

CHAPTER FIFTY

El DANTE STARED UP at the house, his eyes filled with longing, his body language stiff. “Hey,” I reached for his hand. He jerked in his seat when my fingers grazed his. The velvet texture of his thumb ran across mine, his eyes closed like he was in pain, his thumb continued to caress me, barely touching me and my body was crackling with his awareness, my heart

thumping with each breath he took. With a shudder, he pulled back. “We should get inside.” “Yeah.” I unbuckled my seat belt while he calmly stepped out of the car and grabbed our bags, gravel crunching under his boots. I’d never seen such a beautiful porch in my entire life. Two white chairs were placed next to a large swing, I don’t know why but it felt romantic — and at the same time. Devastating. Maybe because this was the type of home you filled with children, the type of place you past down generation after generation. And it was empty. Maybe because now I knew, it was built for a mom Dante never met, by a man who was completely owned by the mafia, it had wrapped its tentacles around him just like Dante. And part of me cried out in despair — would we face that exact same fate. Twenty-four hours. And then complete unknown.

Dante set the bags gently by my feet as we both faced the screen door. He let out a breath. “Do you wish you would have gone with safe now?” I reached for his hand and quietly said. “Safe is boring.” “Boring also means living.” “No.” I turned to him, dropped his hand and gripped his face between my hands. “This, right here, this is living.” His breath hitched as I pressed a feather light kiss to his mouth, his lips were hot, his tongue heavy as he deepened the kiss, his muscled body pinned mine against the door. It was a full-on assault of the senses, the addicting power behind his kiss, behind his body, behind the very hands that had spilled blood — that had promised to love and protect me. To kill for me. To die for me. He pulled back as I sagged against his chest trying to catch my breath. Kissing Dante made me never want to breathe again, breathing meant

prying my lips free from his and that always sounded like the worst possible choice I could make in life whenever he was near. “You’re driving me insane.” He rasped, kissing my head before pulling the door open and turning to give me one of the sexiest smirks I’d ever seen that had my thighs clenching together in memory of what it felt like to have his head between them. “And I don’t think twenty-four hours is enough time to do all the things I want to—” he stopped himself his eyes slowly raking over me before he cursed and held the door open for me. I stepped in. Eyes wide. Mouth gaping. “This is,” I did a small circle of the entry way, every piece of wood looked like it had been specifically picked by hand. “Incredible!” Dante’s face fell as he clenched his jaw. “Yeah.” The tension in the room could have made even Phoenix sweat, the way Dante switched moods, one second ready to rip my clothes off the next like he wanted to ram his face through a wall and stay

there for the next twenty-four hours. It was another reminder how well we didn’t know each other, how much time we still needed to get past the phases where one of us or both say or do the wrong thing. All I knew about him other than my feelings for him. Was that the only thing that tended to calm him down was fighting. Blood. Not really how I planned on the next twentyfour hours going, but I went with it anyway. Maybe I was a woman desperate. Maybe I was in over my head. But I wanted my monster. And I wanted to break through whatever was going on in that head of his. So without any warning, I punched him in the shoulder, and when he turned to me with a mixture of shock and irritation. I did it again. This time he blocked me. Murder in his eyes. Yeah I was going to end up in a body bag.

What was I thinking? Dante could take down four guys at once. Dante shot a complete stranger because another complete stranger told him to! He gripped me by the shirt and slammed me into the wall closest to me. I sucked in a breath at the impact. And then his mouth nipped mine, he bit down on my lower lip sucked me dry, tangled my shirt in his hands and then jerked it free from my body. I closed my eyes as the sound of one giant rip filled the quiet house. And then his mouth was on me again. His hands everywhere. “Never,” He gritted his teeth as he tugged my bra free and skimmed one of my nipples with his tongue before sucking it completely into his mouth, his tongue flicking, harder, harder, I whimpered. “Never do that again.” “Talk to me—” I gripped him by the hair, forcing his face to meet mine. “After.” His blue eyes flashed with pain. “I’ll talk to you after.”

“After what?” His answer was another smug grin before he fell to his knees in front of me and ducked under my skirt. He bit inside my thigh. My knees buckled as little bites up my other thigh followed, and then panties discarded somewhere near my feet as cold air hit me in the ass. Then heat. So much heat that I had trouble standing straight as I lamely tried to grip the flat wall with my fingers, digging them into the plaster in the vain hope that I wouldn’t end up passing out from pleasure. Dante stretched me with his tongue, then as he gripped my ass with his hands dove into me face first, the man sucked with the same precision, the same intensity as he killed. With every cell in his body focused on one solitary thing. My pleasure. Me. I squeezed my thighs, trying to slow down the

waves of pleasure, only to earn a hard smack on the ass followed by a bite that had me both embarrassed and turned on. “Not done yet,” he said against my thigh. “Damn you taste good.” Feather light touches from his tongue were my undoing. The lightest of touch did it. “Dante—” I was so close when he stood, when the wicked glint in his eyes pinned me to the wall, when his mouth met mine again, his velvet tongue tasted like me, like us. With quick movements he kicked my legs further apart, then stopped kissing me altogether as he reached between my drenched thighs and cupped me, his palm coaxed a scream out of me. “What are you—” I closed my eyes. “Watching you,” he answered. “I’m watching what I do to you, letting it fucking burn in my memory so I never forget, even if it’s only twentyfour hours.” He shuddered as I came apart.

With swift movements he freed himself and groaned as he drove into me, my head fell back against the wall from the force of him. It was impossible to hold back. “Your turn.” He moaned. “Watch what you do to me, El, never forget this moment, this is you and me,” His hooded gaze was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my entire life, the way he slowed his movements, rocked his hips like he had all the time in the world even though his jaw clenched with the need to go deeper, harder, faster. “This,” He slammed his hand against the wall near my head as he pounded harder into me only to slow down. “You drive me fucking crazy.” His jaw popped, heat and power radiated off his body in torrential waves of pleasure as I gripped his shoulders pulling our bodies closer, needing to feel more. He found my mouth again, his kiss urgent. This kiss was different. This kiss was complete desperation on both our parts. To hold onto this moment.

I wished for things I had no right to wish for. I wished for a life with him. I wished for children in that house. I wished for peace. “El!” He roared my name, his body taut as he pumped into me one last time, as his frenzied pace continued. All at once my climax hit, his mouth found mine in sloppy, hot kisses, his lips running down my neck until he pressed his forehead against my chest, still inside me, still heaving from exertion. “Look at me,” I begged, I needed to see it in his eyes, the same will to live, the same hope that everything was going to be okay. “Please.” “Just ask, El.” “Everything’s going to be fine, right?” He didn’t lift his head when he whispered. “I promise.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Dante IT’S INSANE. The fact that I hate lying. I’d rather shoot someone in cold blood than be dishonest to their face, maybe that was the one gift God decided to give me in this fucked up life. Honesty. I still couldn’t look at her. She wanted reassurance I couldn’t give her. I stayed like that, my head pressed against her

chest, listening to her heart race for a few minutes before I finally pulled away, fully expecting to see disappointment in her eyes. Instead, I found resilience. The same resilience I’m sure was her only friend when she suffered under the hands of Xavier. She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’m going to change, and then maybe find us something to eat? You think they left it stocked?” And that was it. She grabbed her bag. And returned to the room ten minutes later in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. They looked new. I tilted my head, examining her from head to toe, I rarely saw her outside of her Eagle Elite uniform and even then she typically dressed to cover her body. I could see the outline of her ass perfectly. I licked my lips. “See something you like?” She asked in that teasing tone that had me ready for round two and a hell of a lot of naked time with those legs.

“Always.” I grinned. “I always like, trust me, even when I pretended that I didn’t like what I saw, I always did, I think your beauty fueled my anger.” “I’m trying to find the romance in that.” “My curse.” I shrugged. “Complete honesty.” I grabbed my own bag and pulled out a new shirt. I peeled off the old wrinkled one and put on a black T-shirt. El made a noise in the back of her throat. I turned. Her face was pink, her neck was pink, about as pink as all of my favorite parts that I kept licking. “You all right over there?” She nodded. “Sorry I just, is it normal to have abs like that?” Not what I was expecting. I burst out laughing. “When you get your ass handed to you by five guys on a daily basis and need to defend yourself — yes, normal. How else am I supposed to brace against all their punches?” “Armor?” She offered. “Yeah I wasn’t there the day they handed out the new mafia armor with full on bullet proof vests

and helmets, maybe next time though.” I winked. She bit down on her lip still checking me out, then nearly ran into a wall before finding her way into the kitchen. “Any food in there?” I called. “My guess is they sent Chase to grocery shop because whoever did it remembered cookies and wine.” She held out a bottle and then tossed me Oreos. “Whoa!” I caught them with one hand. “One doesn’t just toss a bag of Oreos, El, they’re delicate.” She pressed her lips together like she was fighting a smile. “You know they still taste good if they break, don’t you, Dante?” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you making fun of me?” “Never.” She winked and lifted her hands innocently into the air. “I’ve seen what you can do with your… body.” I closed my eyes and groaned. “We should at least eat first, before I do things with my body.” She sighed. “If you say so.”

“Killing me.” I ran my hands over my face in frustration. “I’m trying to be gentle with you, ease you into things, the last guy you were with—” “Was a complete sociopath.” She finished. “And never looked at me once the way you do.” “How do I look at you El?” “Like I’m not just an object, a means to an end, you look at me with purpose — you look at me the way I think every girl on this planet wants to be looked at.” My chest heaved as I waited for her to say more. She swallowed, and uncertainty lit her eyes before she looked away and whispered. “You look at me like you can’t see every dirty impure inch of me — you look at me like you aren’t worthy. And sometimes, it breaks my heart, because that’s how I feel when I look at you. So I know what it’s like, to want so badly but be afraid that it’s going to get ripped away from you the minute you give in.” I was too stunned to speak. She eyed the Oreos. “Want some milk?” “You say that,” I croaked. “And then you offer

me milk?” “We have time.” I wanted her to take it back. Because time was the one thing we didn’t have. A choking sensation wrapped around my neck as I glanced between her and the rest of the living room. Was this how my father felt? When he was with my mom? When he knew his time was limited? All I was told was that they were given a sort of pass by Frank to be together, but it was only a few days. I was conceived in a few days. In a cabin that looked just like this. El placed a glass of cold milk in my hand. I almost spilled it. “I didn’t hear you.” “You look haunted.” “This house is haunted,” I said eying where I’d dropped the diary onto the floor. El walked over and picked it up. “Want me to read to you?” I gave her a jerky nod.

And then her voice washed over me like a warm blanket, like safety, like love, and I prepared for the worst between those pages. I prepared for shattered promises. Broken hearts. Death. I prepared for my future.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

El MY HANDS WERE shaking, I was afraid to read the secrets, afraid of what they would reveal. “Diary of Joyce Alfero,” I said, reverently running my hand over the first entry just as a slip of paper fell out. I read it out loud. “Son,” My voice cracked, I reined it in. “A war was nearly fought over this damn diary. It holds many secrets, many regrets, it holds it all. I

remember when Joyce told me about it, I felt so much shame for my part in ruining life after life after life. Son, I am not a good man. If you take one thing from this diary take the God’s honest truth. I have killed. I have warred. I have fought. I haven’t won. And finally son, I have loved. God gave me a moment in time with the only woman I ever had eyes for — I loved her with every beat of my heart, with every inch of my body. I loved her, and you were born out of that love. If you’re reading this — it means only one thing. I have failed you as a parent. I have left this earth too early to raise you to be the man I need you to be. My only hope is that Frank and Phoenix did the right thing in finding you and your sister. My last hope as you were told, was for you to take the rightful place as the boss to the Alfero family. Frank pushed me into the Nicolasi’s because my father wanted power.

We were both rightful heirs to the Alfero throne. But my father wanted more. He was blood thirsty. And I was born out of that blood — not love. My dying wish was for Frank to find you, to place you where you belong. My dying wish is selfish, because it’s to see my son as the head. You are Nicolasi by birth. You are Alfero by blood. Maybe, my story, the story of your mother and I, will help you with that decision. My final advice, my final wish for you is that you will find a love so deep, so pure that it transcends this life of war. That in your love, you will find peace, even as the world burns around you. With love in your heart, a gun in your hand, and family at your side. You. Will. Not. Lose. I welcomed death, not because I wanted to leave you — but because I knew that through my death — my own blood would rise to power. My family would become unstoppable.

Nixon. Frank. Phoenix. Tex. Chase. Sergio. You.” I frowned when I realized he’d left out Mil. “The new Cosa Nostra. People will fear you. Let them. People will fight you. Let them. People will die for you. Let them. Never forget who you are. Dante Luca Nicolasi Alfero. My son.” I looked up. Dante had tears in his eyes. I’d never seen him cry, never seen any emotion even close to it on his face. Wordlessly, he stood, and walked out of the room. His footsteps echoing behind him. A door shut. I closed my eyes as a single tear fell onto the letter still clutched in my hands. And then another. I cried for a man I never knew.

And the love he’d had. The love that gave me the beautiful broken monster that could kill in cold blood but refused to lie to my face. I folded the letter back into the diary and closed it. They weren’t my secrets to read — not without Dante by my side. I stood on shaky legs and decided to sit on the porch. I imagined a time when Luca was holding Joyce’s hand and telling her everything would be okay. I imagined a time when laughter filled the ranch house that looked just like this. When they were free. And when I glanced at the clock on the wall, I could almost hear it ticking in the silence reminding me, that we had little of it left.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Dante I’D WALKED INTO an office. His office? I wasn’t sure if he ever came back to this house once it was built, the memories, the ghosts, were almost too much for me to handle and I didn’t live through them. He’d left me a letter. And I could have sworn, in those moments, it wasn’t El’s voice I heard, but my fathers.

Memories of his scent rushed to the surface. Of the cigar in his mouth. Of being pat on the head. Of being shoved behind him as he yelled at men around him. Flickers, they’d always been flickers, and just like that, they unleashed hell on my mind, my heart, my soul. His voice. His strong, slightly accented voice. I closed my eyes again, unable to get it out of my head no matter how hard I tired. My son. My son. My son. Up until this moment in my life — I just wanted revenge. I wanted to kill. I wanted the tools to do what needed to be done. I wanted Petrovs line ended. I wanted to be free. One letter from my father changed everything. It lit something inside me I knew I couldn’t ignore.

Like ignoring the crown on your own head for the last twenty years only to find it still there all along. Italian royalty. I wondered how Frank felt. Then again, he wouldn’t have fought so hard to find me unless he wanted me to have this dynasty, this power. I was too young. I wasn’t ready. Too many uncertainties plagued my mind and still the clock ticked by minute after minute, every one I wasted thinking, was one I could have spent in El’s arms. I sat behind a large oak desk, the chair dipped under my weight. I groaned and looked down, paralyzed in place. Charcoal. Paper. Pencils. Breath seized in my lungs. “You used to draw…” With shaking hands I picked up the charcoal and

didn’t let go, didn’t stop as my hand furiously moved across the paper, and with each stroke, with each movement, a calm poured over me. Until the picture was finished.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Dante I LEANED AGAINST the doorframe, she was on the back porch, a mug in her hand, her eyes staring out at the horizon. There wasn’t much to look at except for the great expanse of land and one solitary cow. “Who do you think feeds it?” I asked making my way toward the empty chair next to her and sitting down. El smiled out at the cow. “I’d like to think that it just exists doesn’t need to be fed, like a miracle

cow.” “Yeah.” My eyes narrowed at the brown and white animal. “It’s too fat to exist without extra help.” She laughed into her mug. “I’m going to assume that since Phoenix was the one who sent you here, he’s the one who knows about the cow. I’m going with scary as hell Phoenix.” “Is it wrong that it brings me actual joy to think of Phoenix having to take care of a cow?” I wondered aloud. “The man used to lock me up and dangle food in front of my face before eating it.” I grunted. “He deserves an ornery cow with a sour disposition and a humping addiction.” El’s soft laugh was quickly becoming one of my favorite things, the wind picked up pieces of her dark hair as it kissed her chin. “And just how did he get this humping addiction?” I shrugged. “Maybe Phoenix just brings it out in him.” “It could be a girl.” I smirked. “Did you fail basic anatomy in school?”

Her face fell a bit. “I was homeschooled.” Frowning, I reached for her hand. “And that makes you… sad?” She didn’t answer and then looked down at my right hand. “What’s that?” I held out the piece of paper. “It’s you.” She sucked in a sharp breath, her hand trembled when she delicately grabbed the portrait. “I don’t look like this.” “You’re right, you look better, but I haven’t drawn in a long time, plus I had to do it from memory.” She traced the outlines I’d made in charcoal. The shading for her lips, her eyes. “Is this how you see me?” Her voice filled with awe as her tear filled eyes met mine. I nodded. “I want you to see me like this, I look so untouched, so—” “You’re mine.” I dropped to my knees in front of her. “Not his, mine. Do you understand me?” I squeezed her thighs, our eyes met, hers searching, mine with longing.

Please God don’t let history repeat itself. “Thank you,” she finally said, staring down at the simple picture. “You’re really talented when you’re not busy shooting things.” The compliment felt so foreign I didn’t really know how to respond. The last time I’d drawn anything had felt like years ago. Before the anger over my dad’s death, over my legacy became too much. Before I discovered that fighting made me feel better than drawing ever did, because at least then I could see that I was making a difference, at least then I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. I could see the damage on the outside. And compare it to the damage on the inside. “Why did you stop?” El asked. “Drawing I mean.” I sighed, and tried to pull my hands away. She didn’t let me. I was still on my knees, like I was seconds away from worshipping her with my mouth as my eyes feasted all over her face. I’d never do her justice,

not with charcoal, paint, pencils. Humans are only capable of capturing a certain amount of beauty — she had so much of it that I’d never be able to include it all. But I’d try. “Have you ever loved something so much that it’s all you think about?” I asked staring out at the cow while El ran her hands over my shoulders and squeezed my arms like she was trying to comfort me during my confession. “No.” Her voice was small. “I was never given the luxury.” I snorted. “Now I’m going to sound like a complete dick.” “As opposed to other days? When you sound like a gentleman?” She shot back. “Yeah that’s fair.” I exhaled and stood and pulled her to her feet and then started swaying on my feet as I twirled her beneath the dusk sky. “I stopped drawing because it stopped helping me escape.” I twirled her again, the air felt thick, heavy with something I couldn’t describe as she laughed and

continued to dance with me. Without music. Out on the porch. The hair on the back of my arms stood on end as El looked up at me, her smile bright her eyes penetrating. “Didn’t take you for a guy to dance, let alone on a porch without music.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I admitted then instantly regretted saying anything at all. Because I couldn’t promise her that she’d ever know anything beyond the next few days. It was a fucking horrible feeling. This constant state of fear, not for myself, but for what we could have together, just to stay alive. Easier said than done. “Hey,” She cupped my face with her hand, her eyes falling to my lips. “I have an idea.” “Yeah?” I croaked. “What’s that?” She grabbed my hands, interlacing our fingers before she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to my mouth. I smiled against her mouth. “Wow, you’re a

genius.” “That wasn’t the idea,” She admitted. “I just wanted to kiss you.” “Don’t let me stop you,” I said gruffly as I kissed her again, changing angles, my mouth slanted over hers in an attempt to deepen the kiss. El pulled back. “We have all night tonight and part of the day tomorrow, right?” “Right.” I narrowed my eyes. “You,” She shoved against my chest. “Are taking me out on a date.” “I am,” I repeated, and then cleared my throat, my gaze darting above her head. “I’ve uh, never been on a date before.” She sucked in a breath. “You’re either trying not to laugh or you’re so shocked I’m going to have to do chest compressions,” I grumbled. “Which is it?” I was too afraid to look. And maybe just a little bit embarrassed to admit it out loud. “I haven’t either,” El said in a weak voice. “It’s why I wanted one, I mean we skipped that part.”

“And every time you and I were together,” I shrugged and finally looked at her. “No dates huh?” “I was young when Xavier took me.” Her lips trembled. “What about you?” I let out a rough exhale and shrugged. “I never had to.” She frowned. “I don’t understand?” “I never had to ask,” I said slowly. “or take a girl out, I just—” El smacked me in the shoulder then punched me in the stomach before I could flex. “What the hell!” I roared. “That hurt!’ “You’ll live.” She glared, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you saying girls just fell at your feet, that they practically begged you to take their clothes off? That’s what you’re saying isn’t it?” I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning, but the look on her face was priceless. I lost the war and doubled over in laughter. Real, laughter. It felt good. Until she started hitting me again. “El, hey,” I said between laughs before picking

her up and throwing her over my shoulder. She continued hitting my back, my ass, whatever she could touch. “You know that just tickles now right?” She kept going. “Fine, a little to the left.” She pinched my left ass cheek. I dropped her on to her feet. “You don’t want to play that game, I’ll win every time, El.” “What game?” She huffed and lunged for me. “Okay, okay,” I put the couch between us. “I’m not really sure if what you’re looking for is an apology here, but I’m sorry that I screwed girls without taking them out on dates and I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me without having known what it would be like.” She crossed her arms. “And?” “And—” I leaned my body against the sofa. “I would love to take you out on a date, right now.” “Right now?” I grinned. “Maybe after you put on something sexier—” She threw a pillow at my face, I narrowly dodged it only to get another one aimed at my dick. “El,” I said, holding my hands out and smirking.

“I’m not trying to be offensive here.” “And yet you are!” She chucked the pillow. I sighed. “See? I would be total shit at dating!” She waited, weighing the other pillow in the air. “What I’m trying to say, badly might I add… so badly…” I wiped my face with my hands. “I have a sister.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait.” I pointed at the pillow. “Just let me finish, I have a sister, a beautiful wonderful, annoying sister. I know what girls want when they go on a date, they want to spend hours getting ready just so the guy almost drops dead when he sees them. So he looks at her and fully realizes what a lucky bastard he is for getting her to say yes. So, go to the bathroom, take your time doing whatever the hell girls do in there, put on something fancy, and give me time to figure out this whole… at home date.” My chest was heaving by the time I was done, but at least the pillow was back on the couch. “Okay.” She nodded. “So just, disappear for a bit?”

“Yes,” I exhaled. “So I can surprise you, and so you can do your worst — but know, I’ve seen you naked, so if you’re wearing clothes it’s still going to be my second favorite thing I’ve seen you in.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Then maybe I show up naked.” “Then maybe you get to be dessert,” I fired back. “Maybe that’s all I wanted all along,” She walked by me, I snaked my arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her parted lips, then pointed her toward the hall. And prayed like hell I wouldn’t do something else offensive or stupid. I had no idea how to date. Especially since it’s not like I could just pay for dinner and a movie. Yeah I had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to figure out how to do it.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

El OF COURSE, HE’D never been on a date. I had eyes. I was aware of what type of godlike presence the man had — it’s not like I was exactly thrilled that he basically just slept with whoever he wanted without having to even buy them dinner first. I’d felt so stupid saying something that I almost ran into my room and locked the door behind me. But his laugh.

God, that laugh. It was loud, real, amused. I loved it. It was one thing I would take away from my time in this ranch house, hearing Dante Nicolasi laugh should be illegal. It wrapped around me, made my body throb in all the right places, and it took everything in me not to jump into his arms and start ripping off his clothes and beg him for more. More laughing. More teasing. He was always serious. Always haunted. Always angry. And I wondered, if maybe, I was helping chip away at the armor he was so keen on keeping — maybe I could break through. Maybe this, whatever this was, could go beyond sex, beyond attraction. Beyond misguided protection of his name. I had hope. For the first time since I could remember I had

hope that my future wouldn’t be filled with death but life. Hope was a dangerous thing. Because it made me daydream about things I had no right daydreaming about, it made me think anything was possible when I knew that we were running against a clock that picked no sides, that owed us no favors. I sighed and went over to my suitcase and opened one of the frilly boxes the girls had given me. The nightgown was black silk, it had an open back and could almost pass as a chic cocktail dress. I quickly put it on and eyed the garters next to it. “What the hell?” I pulled on the thigh-highs, attached the garters to the matching lacy black thong and did a little turn in the mirror before letting the dress cascade against my legs. It felt expensive. I pulled my hair into a loose bun at the base of my neck and went searching for some makeup. I never wore a lot around Dante, mainly because

Xavier had always wanted it caked on my face. I think it made him angry to see my bruises and know that it was because I fought him. He wanted complete submission. While I wanted to stab him in the throat with whatever sharp object was close by. He wasn’t here now. It was just me, and Dante — and that weird cow out back. I squared my shoulders and applied some dark eye shadow followed by a blue eyeliner and some bronzer. Lipstick was just going to come off, at least I hoped so, but I loved red lipstick, loved it. Even though I rarely wore it. I used to see it on his skin. And I hated that he ruined one more thing for me. But maybe, maybe the red on Dante’s skin would be redeeming. With shaking hands I added a few more finishing touches. A spritz of perfume that one of the girls had packed with the boxes, and finally a pair of black

and white heels I don’t remember being given. What did they do? Just buy things and stash them away for times like this? I gave my head a shake and touched the doorknob. I’d been gone maybe forty-five minutes. Was that enough to come up with something? Anything? Or would he still be standing there wondering how the hell he was going to give me a date? I took a shaky breath and opened the door and walked with slow steps down the hall, my heels making a clicking sound against the wood. It smelled like he was cooking I just wasn’t sure what. The table was set. One plate on each side of a white tablecloth, with napkins on the dishes that he’d folded and placed silverware on top. He’d even lit a candle and turned the lights down. Throat dry, I made my way around the table and found Dante in the kitchen. It was a complete

disaster. He cooked the way he fought — with reckless abandon, he was very goal oriented. And apparently his goal had been to massacre spaghetti until it resembled something like mush. “Looks… good.” “I over cooked the noodles, tried again, then under cooked them, but this batch,” he said, pointing at the stove, “is going to kick ass, I just had to go through two boxes of—” He looked over his shoulder. Eyes blazing he raked his gaze over me from head to toe and back up again, he sucked in his bottom lip like he was imagining tasting me, and when his eyes met mine again he looked drugged. “Don’t move.” “Okay.” “El…” He swallowed, looked back at the pasta then back at me. “Fucking dates.” “You don’t want to do this?” Suddenly embarrassed I started to back away. “Don’t. Move.” His jaw cracked as he braced his hands against the countertop and leaned over like he was preparing for a fight. “You know what? I have an idea, here.” He turned off the stove,

drained the pasta, and dished out everything onto plates like he was getting timed. Once everything was on the table, he grabbed a towel and handed it to me. “Take this.” “A towel?” My eyebrows shot up. “Am I on cleanup duty already?” “Not in that dress you’re not.” He groaned. “Just wrap it around my eyes.” I tried not to flinch at the hurt that spread through my shaking hands as I took the towel and wrapped it around his eyes, just as I was ready to tie it, he gripped my wrists and hung this head. “El,” He inhaled greedily like he could smell me in the air. “You look beautiful.” “And yet you don’t want to look at me.” “One more second of looking instead of touching and that dress would be either destroyed or on the floor, your makeup smeared, hair pulled, thighs wrapped around my body so damn fast that you wouldn’t get your date. I’d feast on your body while the spaghetti got cold, I’d worship you with my tongue and I wouldn’t take my time, I wouldn’t ask you questions. Fuck I can’t even remember

Nixon’s address right now.” He confessed. “I want to do this right, El. Up until now I’ve done everything wrong, it’s the only thing I’m good at, doing the wrong thing. So give me this chance, to give you the date you deserve, and don’t let me see you until you’re ready for me to make love to you, not against the wall, not on the table, but in a bed, a nice bed where I can take my time with you where I can worship every inch of you. All right?” I swayed toward him as tears filled my eyes. “El?” I didn’t answer. I sniffed loud enough for him to probably guess I was well on my way to ruining my makeup. Nobody had ever taken me on a date. And nobody, not even Xavier had ever touched me on a bed, where I was able to look into his eyes. Where I was able to be a part of the process. Where I was an equal. I pressed a kiss to Dante’s back, he let out a guttural groan before I tightly wrapped the towel around his face and knotted it. “Done.” When he turned I wanted to roll my eyes or at

least have a very serious one on one talk with God. How was it possible to look better with half of your face gone? His smile was sexier, his mouth a touch wider than I remembered, his skin smoother. I cupped the sides of his face, ran my thumbs down his strong jawline and pressed a light kiss to his mouth. He licked his lips, and nodded. “More?” “Food first.” “Food first,” he rumbled. “But now that I can’t see you’re going to have to do something for me…” “What’s that?” “Feed me.” He grinned again. “Ever seen Lady and the Tramp?” “Let me guess you’re the tramp?” “Well I’m the one who never dated just screwed so yeah I’ll take the title, after you,” he pointed to the table as his lips danced along my ear. “My lady.” I shivered and pulled out his chair then sat in mine, I was inches from him, our plates nearly kissing. “I think I like this date already.” I eyed the

French bread and tore off a piece. “Apparently they stocked us up with food?” “I think Phoenix did the shopping.” He sat. “Loads of macaroni, Chase would have an aneurism if he saw all the boxed-up food in here and cans, the man hates anything not made from scratch.” “Chase should have been a chef,” I agreed. Dante’s face fell a bit before he shrugged. “I think we all could have been a lot of things, had we not been born in this.” “Yeah.” The bread suddenly felt like sand in my mouth, I set it down and then grabbed a fork. “What about you?” Dante interrupted my thoughts. “What did you want to be growing up?” “Nice date talk,” I deflected. “Answer the question,” he fired back. I dropped my fork and stared down at my hands in my lap, he reached across and grabbed them in his. I’d always been afraid of what his hands were capable of, not realizing that I had fear over a part of him that would take care of me, please me, do anything for me.

Those hands, they would kill for me. Those hands, they would rip apart anyone and anything for me. And those hands, that night, would touch me, caress me, love me. The hands didn’t define the man. The man defined the hands. “I love these.” I kissed his fingers without thinking. Dante sucked in a breath. “My hands?” “Destructive, murdering, beautiful, saving — hands.” I kissed his wrist. “Answer the question, El.” Nothing got past Dante. Not even my obsession with his hands. I sighed as he squeezed my hands tighter. “My parents were killed by Xavier before I ever even knew who he was, before I moved in with my papa. I was playing with my dolls and a knock sounded at the door, it was the same day I told my mom I wanted to be a mom just like her.” I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. “Girls my age they wanted to be supermodels,

reality TV stars, teachers, astronauts—” Tears glistened in my eyes as I shrugged. “My dream was to be her.” Dante leaned forward, his chair creaked. “El… what was that like? What was she like?” And then I remembered, like an idiot. I was talking to an orphan. A casualty of this life. Just like me. He’d grown up not even knowing his own mother. He’d grown up knowing that this life that had killed his father — would most likely take him at some point. He grew up motherless. “She was always singing,” I whispered. “Everything was homemade, she’d be in the kitchen for hours, I hated that kitchen because it always meant I had to do dishes,” I laughed at the memory. “She was beautiful, happy, always doing things for others. You know, I don’t think I ever saw my mom cry? She was so strong. When—” I gulped. “When the gun shots went off, I ran

downstairs, there was blood, so much blood.” I shook my head. “I stood there for at least an hour. There was no pulse. But at least their eyes were closed, you know? At least it looked like they were sleeping. That’s what I told myself when papa came with them.” Dante froze. “Who did your papa come with?” “The cavalry.” I sighed. “Or at least it felt that way, the man looked like an angel, he had salt and pepper hair, crystal blue eyes, he smelled like cigars and peppermint. His suit was pinstriped, and I remember him asking if my papa was capable of protecting me.” I licked my lips. “Papa didn’t even hesitate. He said he’d protect me with his life. The man seemed to be upset about something, he and papa argued a bit but it was decided I’d be okay. And then,” I smiled at the memory. “Even though it was the worst day ever, he knelt down next to me and placed his hand on each cold body and said a prayer.” “Blood of my blood, you’re free — find rest—” “Find rest at the end of your journey, may you be blessed, may your family be blessed, may their

lives be blessed, may they be protected by the blood you spilled. Sangue in nessun fouri,” Dante finished quietly. I gasped. “How’d you know that?” He didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched and then he leaned back in his chair and gave his head a shake. “Because it’s what Luca Nicolasi says when he loses one of his own in battle. It’s the motto of the Nicolasi family and it’s been passed down to the rest of the four families. We memorize it just in case we have to say it to a friend, relative, associate. It’s our way of sending someone home.” Tears slowly began to make their way down my face. “Are you saying that, the man, that the Italians were the ones who came that day?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, instead he nodded to the table. “We should eat before it gets cold.” And that was it. He was either uncomfortable with the conversation. Or hiding something.

But I knew Dante well enough to know this — there would be more, when the time was right, when he wanted to talk. And for the first time in a long time, I was able to speak about my parents’ deaths, about my dreams. Without crying. His hands, those hands, they squeezed mine again. And I knew — his strength was my own. I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Dante I WISH I could say El’s story wasn’t typical. But in our world, families were destroyed by the secrets they agreed to keep. And often times, it wasn’t even their fault that they were killed, more often than not, it’s because someone just knows too much. Often times, it’s because someone is uncomfortable with someone else’s knowledge and when you’re uncomfortable. You’re willing to kill

to get comfortable again. El wouldn’t have been spared had they seen her. El would have been killed for being in the same house as the secrets. And still, she had no idea. She wasn’t being hunted because of Xavier’s death, it was part of it, of course. But she was being hunted because she’d cheated a deserved death. The mafia doesn’t just kill parents — they wipe out blood lines and for some reason. They wanted hers gone. I tried not to react and probably did a shit job of it, but this changed things, this meant that even with who I was — she was still a target to them, would always be a fucking target — unless. Heaviness weighed down on me. Unless I was boss. My blood was royal. My name was as good as Nixon’s or anyone else’s. But I had no title. Not yet.

I promised her I’d protect her. I promised her I’d kill for her. In order to keep those promises. I was going to have to put on the fucking crown. And sit on the throne of the Alfero family. I may not survive it. “Here,” El interrupted my thoughts by lifting a fork to my lips, sauce coated my lower lip as I licked it off and moaned. “Open.” I opened my mouth as she slid the fork in. I chewed a few bites and swallowed. “I’m surprised you’re being nice and not getting sauce all over me.” “Yeah well, you haven’t seen your pants, sauce everywhere, I figured the dirtier they got the sooner you’d take them off.” I groaned. “Killing me.” “What about me? I’ve had to stare at your mouth for the last hour!” “What’s wrong with my mouth?” She was quiet and then a strangled. “It’s nice,” Came out. “It’s nice?” I repeated on a laugh. “Nice doesn’t make you sound like you’re choking, nice doesn’t

make you wet, now does it?” She gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry is this not proper date talk?” “No!” She shoved another fork against my lips. I quickly shoved it away and leaned toward her. “Wet.” “Stop that!” “You,” I dug my fingers into her thighs and dragged her chair toward me. “Admit it and I’ll eat.” “Want some wine?” “Want some of my mouth?” “Dante.” “El,” I lowered my voice. “Sure, pour me some wine, just uncross your legs.” “No.” “Yes.” I slid my hand under her dress and inched my fingers up her thighs, one by one, until I pried them apart. She clenched my hand like she was trying to break it. “What?” I gave my head a shake as my heart roared to life right along with every cell in my body.

“The hell, are you wearing?” “Garters,” she choked out. “I’m full.” I stood. “I’m not.” Her voice teased. “Sit, I’ll pour you wine, we can talk some more, you know, like on a real date.” Hated that word. Date. She was my wife! I sat anyway. I tried to control my thoughts. Garters. Garters. Garters. “What color are they?” I asked once she handed me a glass of wine. She sighed loudly. “You’ll find out.” “Same as your dress? Would we call this a dress? Because it looks like lingerie.” I took a large sip. “It is.” I choked. “The girls bought me boxes and boxes of it.” “Did they now?” I pounded my chest, voice strained. “Remind me to thank them next time I see them.” Or buy them their own island in the south of France, along with a pony for every child born from

here until forever. “Uh-huh.” The teasing in her tone intensified the sound of her putting her wine glass down on the table filled the room. “I haven’t unpacked everything but there’s a lot of lace.” I swallowed and forced myself to breath. “Only twenty-four hours and all that lace… sounds like a challenge.” “You do love challenges.” “I like winning.” I smiled. “I like prizes. I’m the mafia’s version of a raccoon only with a shiny gun and knife fixation — right along with an unhealthy obsession with rust colored eyes, red lips, and apparently garters. What color did you say again?” “I didn’t.” “You sure?” “Stick to killing, you’re horrible at negotiations.” She laughed. “I’m only horrible because I’m distracted.” “And again, stick to guns, Dante.” “Guns huh? Just because I can’t negotiate with my mouth doesn’t mean I can’t do other things with my lips, my tongue,” I leaned closer to her until I

could hear her faint intake of breath. “I haven’t heard you complain once.” “Maybe because I’m afraid of you.” “You were.” I nodded. “But not anymore.” “No,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid of you anymore — I’m afraid for you. It’s worse, so much worse.” “No more talking about death, mine or anyone else’s, El.” I stood and offered her my hand. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” “So you can see my garters?” “I didn’t say I was taking the blindfold off.” “But how—” “Let me worry about finding my way around your body, besides, I kind of like the idea of hide and seek right now.” She gripped my hand in hers. “And I think, that allowing you to do whatever you want in a bed is probably the best idea I’ve ever had.” Her hand fell. “Is it because you feel sorry for me?” “No.” I spoke slowly, purposefully. “Every woman deserves to be worshipped El, but I think

often times men are stupid assholes who forget that women don’t just want to be objectified — they want to participate, so I’ll wear my blindfold, and you…” I grinned. “Do your worst.” “I’m liking this date more and more…” I laughed, it felt good, talking with her, so natural that I could almost forget the constant weight on my shoulders, and the ticking clock hanging over our heads.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

El THE

BLINDS WERE

open in the master bedroom,

creating a silver glow from the moon as it cast its light across the white duvet and giant king bed. There was a fireplace off to the right next to a sitting room that connected to a giant bathroom with a shower big enough for ten people. It was warm yet modern. “You’re quiet.” Dante stood in front of me, hands on his hips, his low-slung jeans hugged his

leg muscles and his black shirt barely hid his built chest and biceps. “I was just staring at you,” I finally admitted after a few beats. “You know the wives all think you’re hot.” He tilted his head. “And I care about this because?” “You don’t get how sexy you are.” “No, I don’t, you should probably keep telling me as you strip and show me those garters of yours.” “I go first.” I pushed him lightly on the chest, and he fell back against the mattress. “And the garters are white.” He groaned his head falling back against the pillows like he was trying not to react. “A promise is a promise.” I’d been used as a sex slave for years. I’d never once sat on a man and stared down at him. Had Xavier given me the chance I would have slit his throat open with my fingernails if need be. “You’re quiet again,” Dante said, bracing my hips with his hands. “Am I doing this wrong?”

I laughed. “I like this side of you, the one where you aren’t scowling all the time.” “I don’t,” he scowled. “Scowl all the time.” “You’re doing it now.” “I have a sexy as hell woman straddling me and I can’t even see her, what do you expect me to do? Laugh? You realize how painful it is to be pressed against you and not feel you?” I smiled at that. “Do you trust me?” He sighed, running his hands up and down the sides of my ribs. “You could have a gun to my head right now and I wouldn’t know, El. The first thing I do when I walk into a room is look for exits. I’ve never been blindfolded, I’ve never let any woman straddle me because I don’t trust anyone not to have an agenda. I walked into this room blind. I laid down for you. Blind. Yeah, El, I trust you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and kissed his neck, then pulled the towel free. His crystal blue eyes locked onto mine. “What’s wrong?” “It’s not what’s wrong,” I said. “It’s what’s right. I want to see you. I want you to see me.” I

ran my hands through his hair. “I just want us.” His chest rose and fell as he drew lazy circles with his fingers on my hips, and then we were lying down next to each other, staring. He spoke first. “Promise me something.” “What?” “This right here.” He waved his hand around. “This is our safe place, no blood, no war, just a man and a woman.” “Just a man and a woman,” I repeated, lacing my fingers with him. “I like that a lot.” “Good.” He tilted my chin toward him and brushed a soft kiss on my mouth then used his other hand to gather the silk dress and pull it up past my hips. He felt the garters first, his fingers wrapped around the material as a smug grin spread all over his gorgeous face. “White may be my new favorite color.” I pressed my hand against his, the warmth of his palm spread all the way down my thigh. “Better than a big white dress, right?” He lifted his head and blinked. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to wear the big white dress.”

“I’d rather have the garters,” I said, my face heating with shyness. “And you. Plus, this dress is prettier than anything I’ve ever worn.” “I’m going to have to disagree with you on that,” he got up on his knees and leaned over me, his mouth grazed mine. “The most beautiful thing you wear is your own damn skin, El.” I met his kiss. I slammed my mouth against his with pure hunger, pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for his jeans. “This was supposed to be slow,” he murmured against my mouth, his tongue sliding out just enough for me to whimper for more. I jerked down his jeans, he kicked them off. “No boxers today,” I mused taking him in my hand. Dante let out a groan and flipped me onto my back as he slid my dress up over my hips and then over my head, it floated to the ground. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I should have married you weeks ago,” he watched my face, muscles flexed in his stomach and chest as he

welcomed me with another open-mouthed kiss. I rocked my hips against him, he smiled against my lips. “Not yet,” Dante moved his massive body down, he covered my belly button in another kiss then rested his head on my stomach as he moved his hands down my thighs, his palms caressing the garters like he couldn’t actually believe they existed, and then he very slowly tugged one free, pulling the nylon all the way down to my foot, then did the same with the other. I nearly melted when his lips fused and held onto mine, his length pressed against my stomach as he grasped my knees and eased them apart only to narrow his eyes at me, like he was spending time taking it all in, like he wanted to savor the moment forever. “Look at me, El.” He pressed my face between his hands, his eyes urgent. “Don’t look away.” I didn’t. I locked eyes with him. He braced himself over me. I sucked in a breath when he paused near my

entrance. “Are you watching?” He breathed. “Watch El, this, this is us.” Tears welled in my eyes as he pressed into me, slowly, possessively. I wanted to close my eyes, it was too much to process, this beautiful man, moving with me, inside me, with me. I arched, my head dipped into the pillow as a wave of pleasure built and broke between us only to build again, he slowed his movements, leaned his heavy body across mine, and kissed me with his eyes open. I leaned into him with each kiss. And with each arch, took him inside, held him tight. Promised forever. His body shook, his breath hitched. “Nothing should feel this good.” “Nothing ever has,” I admitted as a tear slid down my cheek. He kissed it away. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on while he showed me love. While he took me with passion.

While he forced me to see what it should have been like all along. And what it would be like with him. “Let go, Dante.” I kissed his mouth, the strain of his muscles was beautiful, the way he held himself protectively over me, both loving and saving at the same time, probably without him realizing it. Men like Dante Nicolasi existed in two places. Books. And in my arms. He groaned out my name. I gasped as he thrust deeper. “I. Am. Yours.” He gave me everything. I took it all.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Dante I DON’T KNOW how long I stared at her, but it was long enough for her to fall into a deep sleep while I watched her chest rise and fall. While I reminded myself that in this moment, she was in my arms. She was breathing. Mine. A clusterfuck of emotions hit me all at once. Protectiveness, fear, and if I wasn’t such an asshole a part of me would admit that the last emotion I

was experiencing felt different. Foreign. Like someone had cracked open my chest just to make sure my heart was beating and poked it with a stick. It was painful. It was constant. It was horrible. It was love. I tightened my arm around her body, kissed her head, and imagined a world where the hours ticking by didn’t sound or feel like a death sentence. I told myself I was exaggerating. I told myself things were going to be fine. But my gut told me differently. “Dante,” El wrapped her arm around my middle and squeezed. “Don’t leave me.” “Never,” I lied. “I’ll never leave you.” On purpose. I left that last part out and promised her anyways. Because at least I wasn’t looking at her face. I wondered if love would make me a liar. Because at one point I promised her that I’d

never look into her eyes and say anything untrue. But now that things were different. I knew — I would do it to save her. I’d lie to her to save her. Love didn’t make good people honest. It made liars out of all of us. Because when faced with hurting someone you love by telling them the truth or giving them the lie so they don’t experience darkness. I would choose the lie every damn time. I finally fell asleep, only to wake up hours later with the bed empty. “El?” I called out her name and, pulled on my jeans. She wasn’t in the bathroom and no lights were on in the house. I walked down the hall, the door to the office was open. I pushed it further. El was standing in front of my father’s desk. Holding a picture. “This is your father?” She asked as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder.

“That’s him.” We looked so much alike it was scary from the crystal blue eyes to the jet-black hair and strong jaw. “He was there,” she said. “The day my parents were killed.” I stilled behind her. “Do you think that maybe… maybe I was saved for you? That in this messed up bloody world, I served my time with the devil — and God gave me an angel as penance?” “I’m not an angel.” “You’re right,” She turned in my arms. “You’re my savior.” “I’m not good El, we talked about that.” “I don’t need you to be good, Dante. Remember?” Our foreheads touched. “Yes,” I said gruffly. “I hope to God that my father took one look at you and how you were suffering, whispered something in Frank’s ear and saved you so that one day you wouldn’t be beaten bloody by that monster — but loved completely by me.” I tasted her tears on her lips as she kissed me and lifted her up onto the desk as she wrapped her

legs around me and hung on. “We have a desk fetish,” she said between kisses. “I don’t mind.” I nipped her lips harder as she dropped my jeans to the floor. “I’ll never get tired of this.” She guided me into her. “Me either.” We were making love on my father’s desk. In a house with more secrets, more ghosts than I could possibly imagine, and yet, I couldn’t conjure up anything but pure joy that maybe, just maybe, El was right. He saved her without knowing her future. Or mine. He did the right thing. And because of that, a man who isn’t good, who will never be good, got to experience a taste of heaven. I thanked him silently as I worshipped her, and was even more solidified in my decision to take my rightful place. Not because it’s what was best for her. Or for me.

But because it’s what Luca Nicolasi would have done. And it was what he wanted. A man not good, not bad, but both, wanted. And I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Knowing, it would kill me. But the right thing is the right thing, and I was tired of being angry, tired of running, fucking tired of revenge. “I love you,” I moaned against her neck. “Then promise me you’ll be careful.” She gripped my face with my hands. “Promise me.” “Isn’t this where you’re supposed to say you love me back?” I deflected with a thrust. “Dante.” “I promise.” I looked into her eyes and then our mouths collided against one another as she reached her climax, and called out. “I love you too.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

El I DIDN’T WANT to leave. I knew what was waiting for us when we stepped outside that ranch house. But our time was up. We’d spent the morning in bed. Talking. Laughing. Like we were normal. Like this situation was normal.

And every time he didn’t think I was watching him — I could see the uncertain future age him before my very eyes. Dante may have walked in here still figuring out life. He was walking out of the house a man. It was in his gait. The way he watched everything, the cow included. Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle, the puzzle of our future, the Russians, and whatever the hell was going on. “You ready?” He held out his hand. I didn’t want to take it. Dante’s face softened, he kissed my head and pulled me into his arms. “We’ll be back.” “For longer than twenty-four hours?” “Absolutely, besides someone has to feed that damn cow,” he teased. The cow moo’ed as if he’d heard promises of food. We both shared a smile and then slowly walked down the porch steps to the waiting car. Gravel crunched beneath my shoes.

Sadness hung between us like a heavy tether. Dante opened my door for me. “You think it was like this for your mom and dad? When she had to leave him?” I asked. “I’m sure it was worse.” Dante looked out into the distance. “She belonged to someone else, and you, you will always belong to me.” I sagged in relief. “I’m yours.” He locked eyes with me. “And I’m yours.” He kissed my fingertips one last time before going to his side of the car, getting in and shutting the door. Silence existed around us. A heavy silence that spoke of every single fear I refused to admit out loud. He started the car. My heart hammered in my chest. We were leaving the fantasy. Back to reality. Back to blood, guns, war. How did they do it? How did they still laugh? Drink? Have babies? How did they do it? Without dying a little bit inside every single time

one of their husbands left the house — knowing that they may not come back. How did you keep yourself from resenting the very thing that gave you this life of luxury? Because these men, they were molded by the violence, had they not been in this life, I don’t think the love would be as intense. What made them mafia — is what made them people. Dante inched the car forward, then gripped the steering wheel with both hands and exhaled slowly. And then we were driving down the gravel road and suddenly back on the freeway. We didn’t talk. I think both of us were more consumed with what today would bring. I was just about to ask him if he was going to go to The Spot and see Andrei that night when Dante let out a curse and changed lanes. “What’s wrong?” My heart skipped a beat. “We’re being followed.” He tossed me his phone. “Call Nixon, now.” I fumbled with the phone and hit Nixon’s

number. “Yes?” He answered on the first ring. “Dante says we’re being followed.” “Shit.” I heard rustling behind him. “Where are you guys?” “Freeway.” My hand was going numb from gripping the iPhone so hard. “Tell him to hit it.” “Hit it?” I repeated out loud. Dante slammed his foot into the accelerator and did some sort of weird move I’d only ever seen stunt devils do as he maneuvered through traffic and took the next exit. My body slammed into the door. “Okay I think we lost them.” “Shit!” Dante roared twisting the steering wheel to the right and going down another side street. His eyes darted from right to left, then back before he put the car in park. “Give me the phone.” “Why are we stopping?” Panic seized my chest. “The phone, El.” I handed it over. “I’ll need clean up,” was all he said to Nixon

before turning off the phone and holding my face between his hands. “Get on the floor. Now.” “But—” “You love me. I need you to trust me. Right now, El.” I undid my seatbelt and moved to the floor just as he popped the trunk and walked around it. Why was he walking so slow? I peeked over the seat. That was in there the whole time? He pulled out an AR-16, shoved in some ammo and held it in the air. I scrambled for the phone just in case. I had no weapon. I squeezed my eyes shut as a black SUV screeched to a halt in the street in front of us then turned toward our parked car. They didn’t stand a chance. Dante started firing rounds so hard and fast I had to plug my ears. Tires popped in the SUV, a guy with a gun tried to shoot at Dante but he got him in the head before he could.

A ringing sounded in my ears as a man got out of the car and started shooting at Dante. One shot. The guy fell. Another followed. Until six bodies scattered around the road. I jumped a foot when Dante appeared at the passenger side and knocked on the window. I opened the door. He knelt down. “Are you okay?” “I wasn’t getting shot at.” He smirked. “Yeah well—” The sound of a foot crunching against gravel hit my ears, Dante pointed the gun to the left and fired off two more rounds. The guy, whoever he was, fell clutching his chest. I sagged back against the seat. “We’re almost home,” He kissed my cheek, tossed the gun back into the trunk and then grabbed his phone and called Nixon. “About ten miles out —” I toned out his voice, the address he gave, the

explanation. This was the life I signed up for the minute I married him. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The fighting. The guns. The blood. Seven bodies just… dead. By my husband’s hand. The same hand that held mine like a vice the entire way home. I was still in shock when we pulled into the driveway. Nixon, Sergio, Frank, Phoenix, Chase, and Tex were all waiting in front of the house, arms crossed. Mil was nowhere to be seen. Which just made my stomach even sicker. Dante killed the ignition and squeezed my hand one last time. “Trust me.” “I do.” “Love me.” He smiled sadly at our joined hands. “Always.” His eyes saddened. “I’m sorry, El, for what’s

coming, for what I need to do, just know. If I could I’d run away with you — do the whole starving artist thing.” He bit down on his lip. “Draw couples on the street.” “And I’d bake.” He choked out a laugh. “And do dishes.” “Make everything from scratch,” I added. “These are our cards, El.” “I know,” I admitted sadly. He nodded his head and slowly got out of the car. I followed. We walked hand in hand to the men. Dante stopped in front of Frank and slowly, confidently, raised his head and spoke the words I never thought I’d hear him say. “I, Dante Nicolasi Alfero accept my role as boss to the Alfero family.” Frank’s eyes were a mixture of sadness and joy. Nixon’s shoulders sagged in relief. Dante released my hand as Frank leaned forward and kissed his left cheek then his right. And down the line Dante walked. Until he was faced with the capo. With Tex. Tex held out his hand to Frank.

Frank slid a ring off of his right ring finger and placed it in Tex’s palm. It looked heavy. It was the crest of the Alfero family. Tex kissed it, then slid it onto Dante’s finger. The heaviness of what just happened hit me in the chest so hard, I swayed on my feet. I’d left married to a made man. And returned with the rightful boss to the Alfero throne. One ring to rule them all, never felt so right. And wrong at the same time. “And now,” Frank grinned. “We toast.” I tried to muster up a smile, but I was too sick over what Dante had done what I knew he had to do. And what that meant for our future. Especially since I knew he would be hunted more than ever. Resented. Despised. Feared. Revered.

I took a deep breath and followed the men in, and was stopped by Frank, by the killer of my exhusband. By the former boss of the Alferos. “He did the right thing,” Frank whispered in a solemn voice. “This is his path, this should have been his father’s path, he is making right what I made wrong. It is my fault. And I will carry that burden all the way to my grave until I can see my brother again and apologize, until I can see Dante’s mother and kiss her face—” He shook his head at the house. “This life it is hard, but we make up for it. We laugh hard. We drink hard. We work hard. We live hard, and in the end, isn’t that what every human wants? An existence where they can close their eyes every night and know that if God took them — they did life well.” I blinked up at him. “I never thought of it that way.” “Eh, the mafia, makes you think of a lot of gray areas, there is no black and white in life don’t let anyone tell you any different. No straight lines. No rules. Life is life, it is up to us to decide how well

we live what’s been given to us.” I hung my head. “No matter what happens, El,” Frank tilted my chin toward him. “You live hard. You live well.” “Yes, sir.” He smirked. “I’m not that old, and I am Dante’s uncle, that makes you my niece now.” Family. I had family. Stunned I could only stare at him. “What? You did not make the calculations in that head of yours.” He wrapped an arm around me and led me toward the door. “Now, we drink, every last drop of Nixon’s wine. I take great pleasure in raiding his cellar.” I laughed at that. “I bet you do.” “Serves him right for seducing my granddaughter and giving me a great-granddaughter who’s so damn beautiful it brings tears to my eyes to see her pink face.” He sighed. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I almost shot Nixon in the face?” “Which time?” Tex called from inside the house.

“Or the time when Nixon almost beat the shit out of Tex and shot him at point blank range,” Chase mused into his wine glass. “Best bedtime story ever, wish I had a picture of his face, oh wait,” he closed his eyes. “There it is!” Tex grumbled into his wine. And soon we were joined by all the wives. More bottles were opened in celebration. And when Mil came home late — again. Nobody said anything. She acted perfectly normal. Except for the fact that Chase watched her every move like a hawk and when he didn’t think anyone was looking, wiped a tear from his eye and walked off.

CHAPTER SIXTY

Dante THE RING FELT heavy on my hand the entire way to class. El joined me in bed later that night, she didn’t say anything, just held me. It’s what I needed. She was quiet again on the way to class, though she twisted my ring around my finger a few times like she was trying to figure out how much it weighed, how many sins it carried — if it would save us.

“You’re protected completely,” I reassured her. “My name, my blood, our families, don’t let anyone give you shit today and if Andrei corners you—” “Dante,” she interrupted me with a blinding smile. “I’m fine, I promise, it’s just a lot to take in, you know?” I shuddered. “Tell me about it. They give you a fucking black folder with every single family secret the minute that ring hits your finger. I have half a mind to feel bad for Phoenix, the shit that guy knows.” I cringed. “I only have intel on my own contacts, the Alfero associates, and of course you.” I said too much. She looked down at her hands. “What’s my last name then?” I bit down on my lip. “Nicolasi-Alfero.” “My maiden name?” I didn’t answer. “Did your Father know? Who my family was? Where they were from?” “I don’t think you want to do this now, El.” “Tell me.” Her voice was weak. “Please, just…

tell me. I need to hear you say it.” “You’re not Russian,” I finally said as we pulled through the gates of school. “I know that.” “You’re Italian.” “I suspected that.” With a sigh, I pulled into a parking spot and eyed her with concern. “It doesn’t matter who you were, what matters is who you are.” “Who was Papa, who were my parents? You guys have to know by now, if you all have black folders, I want to see mine.” “Hah!” I killed the ignition. “Trust me, you don’t.” “Dante—” She touched my forearm. “I didn’t know,” I didn’t mean to snap. “When we were at the ranch house, I had no idea, all right? It took Sergio and Phoenix working together and almost killing each other while we were gone — to figure it out.” “Figure what out?” her voice shook. “I told them you saw Luca,” I swallowed. “That he was there the day your parents died — it was

the final missing piece.” Tears filled her eyes. “Say it.” “De Lange,” I muttered. “You’re a De Lange.” Her face fell as she sank back against her seat. “Phoenix’s family? Mil’s?” “Distant cousin,” I answered honestly. “Very far removed, so far removed that it was nearly impossible to find you once Xavier made it look like you died too. The trail stopped. But he took you, he kept you alive for his own sick reasons and because of that, you’re still a target. Not only were they supposed to wipe out every family member that was working with the Petrovs undercover — but they were supposed to kill the bloodline completely. Your papa isn’t really your papa, he was an associate for the Nicolasi family, he was under deep cover. He took you in, they fabricated a story — and he did the impossible.” Her eyes welled with tears. “He fell in love with a little girl who called him Papa because she couldn’t pronounce his name right. And he protected her until his dying breath.” Sobs wracked her body. I pulled her into my

arms. “El,” I kissed her head. “I’ve got you, all right? I’ll kill them all for what they did, I’ll kill them, and whoever they love. I swear it.” “When will it be enough blood? Enough war?” She whispered through her tears. “When they’re dead,” I spoke the truth. “You’re a target but they can’t touch you, not as long as I’m alive—” “So stay alive,” she demanded her nostrils flared. “Aw, you’d miss me?” She scowled. “Now who’s scowling?” El sagged against my chest. “Thank you, for telling me.” “I wasn’t going to.” “Why?” “Because I swore to protect you and telling you doesn’t protect you, it makes you sad, angry, disappointed — I want to protect you from it all, El.” She gave me a sad smile. “That’s just it, you can’t.”

“Let me try.” I promised. “I bet I could.” She cupped my face with her hand. “The arrogance is sexy.” I crushed her mouth with mine. She pulled away and groaned. “Do we really have to go to class?” “Until this is over with,” I sighed. “Absolutely, but the minute those pricks are dead I’m locking you in a bedroom and throwing away the key.” “Sounds nice.” “Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to have you naked and late for class.” She shrugged a shoulder. My eyes narrowed. And then she was slowly crawling into the backseat. “You’re serious?” I looked around like I was afraid of getting caught when I was already pulling myself free from my damn uniform. El winked, and crooked her finger, spreading her legs wide as I made my way to the backseat and lifted her skirt. “So we’ll be a couple minutes late,” she jerked

me toward her with my shirt. “Worth it.” “God, I love marriage.” I kissed her again. And got lost in the moment. She might be a De Lange. From a hated family. From a family who, up until Mil, had no loyalty to anyone. But I’d given her my name. And now? She was mine.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

El THE

THING ABOUT

the mafia? You know all the

secrets, you know the darkness of the world and some punk kid sitting next to you in class is listening to Justin Bieber and complaining about the hamburger they just ate. You gain perspective on life when you’re in constant fear of losing it. I stiffened when Andrei came and sat down next to me.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” He smirked and then leaned back in his chair while the professor talked about good communication in the work place. Useless, the information was useless. “Yup.” I didn’t look at him. I pretended to listen to the communication I needed to be having in a work force I wouldn’t be joining. “It would be a shame… for young love to die so quickly, hmm?” I froze. “Such a shame.” He shrugged. “I wonder what kind of monster he would turn into if I took everything that mattered from him? Just because I could?” “Why would you do that to someone who’s on your side?” I just had to ask. “Is he?” Andrei’s head tilted. “One chance, I give him one chance to prove it, and if he fails — well, I don’t think the story will be ending with and they lived happily ever after.” “You can trust him.” He snorted. “Just like I can trust you?” “I never said you could trust me, I’m a woman

after all,” I said in a snarky tone. Andrei eyed me, I could feel his stare penetrate down to my bones. “I like my women quiet.” “Lucky them.” He gripped my left arm, his fingers digging into my flesh so hard I whimpered. “Give your man a message for me, will you?” He handed me another note. I eyed it and then him. “You gonna kill me if I read it.” “Yes.” He didn’t even blink. I nodded and shoved it into my messenger bag. “At least you’re honest.” “I have my days.” He winked like he was flirting with me when we both know he wouldn’t hesitate to end me. “Why did you come here? To Chicago?” I asked. He paused, a look of irritation crossed his features. “I don’t really think you’re in a position to ask me probing questions.” “Oh.” I frowned. “I just thought we were passing notes in class and making small talk, my bad.”

I returned my attention to the professor. Andrei kept his voice low. “Not all of us are given the luxury of having endless amounts of money — at least endless amounts that aren’t frozen by the US government. So I got creative. Made new friends.” “Dangerous friends?” I guessed. “Stupid ones,” he fired back quickly. “Ones I can manipulate just like I do everyone and everything in this god forsaken universe.” I was too shocked he was even speaking to me about things like that to respond, I just nodded and glanced away. “If he double crosses me, I will kill him — I won’t kill you. I’ll tie you to my bed,” He caressed my arm. “I’ll tie each leg to a post so I can see you whenever I want, fuck you whenever it pleases me.” My lips trembled. “Yeah, I’d like that, maybe I’ll just maim him so he can watch…” I jerked free. He laughed and stood, then just walked right out of class like he was allowed to actually do it while the professor was mid communications speech.

I breathed in and out. I counted the number of times my breath felt like it was getting caught in my lungs. And when class was over. I bolted toward the door. Exit. I needed an exit. And I needed Dante. He was already waiting for me. I launched myself into his arms and kissed down his neck then whispered in his ear. “He doesn’t trust you, not yet, do something scary.” I handed him the note. Dante looked down at it, smirked, and then grabbed my hand. We were moving fast. Too fast. People started to stare as Dante kept me pinned by his side. Andrei was outside, his minions next to him. They each looked pleased with themselves. Dante released my hand, kissed my forehead, and said, “Stay here.” “You get my note?” Andrei asked. “Didn’t read it.” Dante shrugged.

Andrei’s smile fell. “You probably should.” “I’ll get there.” Dante pulled, his Glock from under his uniform and held it at his side. “Now, which one.” “Excuse me?” Andrei’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Which one do you want me to kill.” Maksim made a choking noise and laughed. “Never mind, I’ll pick.” Dante pointed the gun at Maksim. “Your preference, foot, leg, arm, or chest?” “None.” Maksim clenched his teeth. A muscle worked in his jaw. Andrei folded his arms and grinned, then said. “Leg.” Dante fired off two shots into Maksim’s thigh. Both rounds skimmed the outside of his uniform, and he fell to his knees, screaming in pain. Dante put his gun away. “Touch her again and I’ll rip your tongue out. This isn’t about her. It’s about me making a name for myself with whoever the hell is willing to give it to me.” I noticed his ring wasn’t on anymore. “You don’t get to question her,

you don’t get to scare her. She’s mine.” “Then put a fucking muzzle on her.” Andrei sneered. “She talks too much.” Dante’s hand shook at his side. “We doing this or not?” “The note.” Andrei nodded. “It goes down tomorrow. I hope you’re worth it, since you’ve shot one of my best men, I’ll need you on top of your game.” “I’ll make sure to wear red so they don’t see my blood.” Dante turned his back on him grabbed my arm and we walked off. I was shaking with terror. He seemed to be shaking with rage and adrenaline. Once we were out of ear shot, I reached up and touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?” “I won’t be okay until I put a bullet between that piece of shit’s eyes.” “I’m sorry.” He frowned down at me. “For what?” “I feel like this is my fa—” “I swear if the next word is fault I’m going back

and shooting him, ending this right now.” “You know what I mean.” My shoulders slumped. “If I had died then—” “Then we would still be at war because that’s what happens when selfish pricks with no moral compass are given a gun and power, all right? I nodded and hung my head. “Okay.” He opened the note and read it. “It’s an address.” I sighed in relief. “That’s good, right?” “It’s either good or it’s a trap.” “Great,” I muttered. “Soon.” Dante kissed the top of my head, “This will be over with, soon.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Dante MIL WASN’T AT the house. The tracker we had on her said she was shopping. El was exhausted so I forced a nap on her. Which left me and Chase staring each other down, waiting for his wife to get home. He slid the wine bottle toward me. “You think this will work? Just out right asking her?” I shrugged. “We know she’s not really shopping.

Maybe she’ll feel guilty enough to just tell you everything.” “You think I haven’t tried that every day?” He swiped the wine away from me and glared at it in disgust. “I can’t keep going on like this. Living with her knowing this is killing her — killing us. And the sick part is, I think she wants to tell me, I think she wants it to go away — and I’m terrified she knows the end — and refuses to involve any of us because of it.” I hadn’t thought of that. “What, like she’s protecting us?” Chase just shrugged. Mil walked in the door ten minutes later. No bags. “Shopping?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my voice as I eyed her empty hands. “You would know, stalker.” She winked like it was funny, I shook my head and looked away, I hated liars, hated them. Chase stood. “Where you been Mil?” “Doesn’t matter, Chase.” She gave him a sad smile. “I already told you, none of it matters when I

walk in these doors, just let me be your wife, not a boss.” “You agreed to be both,” he said sadly. “Let us help you.” She paled, and looked down at her hands, like they were stained with blood she refused to tell us about. “This is the part where I tell you, that you can’t go where I’m going, you can’t do what I’m doing. This is the part where I tell you I’m leaving you, Chase.” It was impossible to miss the tears filling her eyes right along with the raw fear behind them. Chase stumbled into his seat, and then shot out of it and charged her. “The hell you are!” Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “I love you but—” “BUT?” He roared. “I give you my fucking heart and soul and you say you love me but?” Nixon jogged into the room, his right hand held a gun. Trace wasn’t far after him, her own gun in hand. Did everyone own a gun in this damn house? Realization hit Chase he glanced between Mil

and Nixon. “It’s that bad.” He shook his head. “That you would leave me? Leave us?” “Look can’t this just be about me? And not the mafia?” She pleaded. “No!” we all said in unison. Mil glared in my direction. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” “I used to actually like you,” I said to nobody in general. “What the hell happened?” “Life.” She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the room. “I think it’s best if I just… go away for a while.” We all knew what that meant. Going away meant never coming back. “You walk out of this house, and you’re dead,” Nixon said in a tone that I’d never heard him use before. She stomped over to him. “I don’t care who you —” Nixon slammed his gun across her face as she crumpled to the floor. Chase moved to grab her. Nixon shook his head. “You leave this house

and someone kills you, you leave this house by your own free will after I tell you not to — and I promise you, I will.” “You don’t understand.” She wiped the blood on her lips. “None of you do! I don’t want you to get it, I don’t want you to figure this out, I don’t want you to even touch this, to touch me.” She started shaking on the floor wrapping her arms around herself. “I thought I could get in, get out, it was supposed to be clean! Easy money!” Chase groaned into his hands. “You had money!” “It wasn’t mine!” “Everything that’s mine is yours, it’s ours, that’s marriage!” he roared. Tears filled Trace’s eyes and she stared down at Mil and then up at Chase, and then she scared the shit out of me and probably her own husband included when she pointed the gun at Mil and lowered her voice, speaking in a menacing tone. “You hurt my best friend, my husband, my family, my child, there will be no place you can hide that I won’t find you.”

“Trace—” Tears spilled onto Mil’s cheeks. “No.” Trace shook her head. “We’re done.” The room fell silent as Mil wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood. Chase reached for her, but she pulled away. It was a moment that would be permanently etched in my brain, the raw hunger on his face, the complete terror on hers. A love so tangible you can taste it in the air. And then. Nothingness. Like she’d ripped the invisible tether between them, cut out her own heart and turned her back on every fucking thing they’d ever shared. I felt it in my own chest, the loss, the hurt, the searing pain. And when Chase collapsed to his knees, I knew. He’d rather die than experience that ever again. He’d rather be dead. Than know the loss of her love. Mil shook her head once and walked out of the room. Nixon moved to Chase, but Trace beat him to it, kneeling down on the floor with him as she pulled him into her arms and held him tight.

Nixon ran a hand over his face, and did a small circle, like he wasn’t sure if he should leave, shoot Mil, or join the hug. “Dante…” His gruff voice filled the room. “Go spar with Chase, I’ll call the rest of the guys so we can decide what needs to be done.” He hesitated. “I’ll do it.” I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “Whatever needs to be done.” I eyed a very still Chase. “I have the least emotional attachment to her — I’ll do it.” “Do what?” El walked into the room and stretched. Nobody said anything. Chase turned and stood just as Nixon gave me one solitary nod. Not how I expected the rest of my day to go. Killing my best friend’s wife. Because that’s what Chase had turned into. I gave El a sad look before pulling her into my arms and kissing her forehead. “You have a good nap?” She sighed. “Yeah, until the yelling.”

I winced. “Don’t worry about it.” She locked eyes with me, like she was reading my troubled soul then stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek before walking over to the fridge. “Go spar, I’ll just be in my room doing homework from that stupid business comm class that I’m being forced to take.” My lips twitched. Trace put her gun on the counter, El raised her eyebrows at it but said nothing. “I had to take classes I hated too,” Trace finally said. Nixon jerked his head toward me. I followed him out of the room. Chase was on our tail. Nixon turned and put his hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Don’t.” Chase jerked away and hung his head. “You’ll just make it worse.” Nixon cursed. “If there was any other way—” “But there isn’t,” Chase spat shoving Nixon in the chest. “Is there? That’s the world we live in! Where people get fucked over — where you lose

the love of your life because of what? Pride? Money?” He snorted in disgust. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Voice cracking, he eyed me and said. “Beat the shit out of me.” I’d been waiting weeks to hear him say that. And now? I wanted him to take it back. Another solitary nod from Nixon. “All right,” I sighed. “Try not to die.” “Does it even matter anymore?” He said as he shoved past me and went into the workout room. “I’ll talk to the rest of the guys, we still get to vote, they may not want to move on this until we know more, but—” Nixon sighed. “I think we know enough to know she’s been doing something very shady and has put every last one of us in danger because of it.” “Tell me it’s not always like this.” I leaned against the wall. “Tell me you’re not constantly choking from the fear and anger, tell me it gets better.” “It comes in waves.” Nixon said after a long moment. “So enjoy the ride when it’s good, and hold tight to those you love when it’s bad.”

I nodded and went into the workout room. Chase was already shirtless, no helmet, no gloves. He had no gear on whatsoever. “Street style.” I grimaced. “You sure?” “Maybe if you put me in a coma I’ll forget about all this shit,” His eyes were wild. And for the first time since meeting him, I wanted to take it away. I wanted to kill anyone and everyone who’d ever hurt him. I wanted them to feel pain. And suddenly, I had no problem whatsoever with killing someone who promised to love him till their dying breath. Because she lied. Not just to him. But to all of us. And he was my brother. I added another tally mark next to the word revenge, and threw my first punch.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

El SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Chase looked completely wrecked, and Trace was so tense she jumped when I opened the cupboard in search of a cookie and again when I opened the fridge for a bottle of water. Finally, I slammed the cupboard door and joined Trace at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?” She swallowed, eyeing the table with interest. “I love him.”

“Nixon?” Her smile was sad. “Nixon is my soul mate.” “Okay?” “Chase,” She licked her lips. “I love Chase. I can’t explain it other than I feel such deep rooted love for the man that I would do anything to keep him safe, even if it means protecting him from himself. He’s one of my best friends. It’s always been that way — maybe that’s why I could never be with him — our friendship got in the way, with Nixon there’s danger, passion, our souls know each other, recognize one another.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “He’s hurting and I can’t do anything about it, I can’t even comfort him without Nixon getting pissed.” “Why would Nixon get pissed?” I asked. Trace smirked. “Long story short we thought Nixon was dead, I was driven into Chase’s bulky arms, blah, blah, blah,” She laughed a bit. “But it would have never worked between us, we both recognized that, it was always Nixon it will always be Nixon, but Chase — I was so happy when he found Mil, when he had someone who loved him as

much as I did, and now? Now,” Tears filled her eyes. “I get it. I finally get what haunts Nixon at night. It’s not enemies from the outside — it’s being broken from within.” She leaned forward. “It’s trusting someone, loving them so much — only to find out that they don’t feel the same way, or maybe they just love themselves a little bit more and are willing to do anything to make sure that they leave a name for themselves. Mil loves Chase, I know she does, but she loves herself I think, just a little bit more. It’s easy to become blinded when we’re put in positions of power. I think Mil got scared. I think she’s still scared. I think she’s trying to emotionally separate from all of us because she knows what’s coming.” Her eyes locked with mine. “Our enemy was never at the University, El. Our enemy was sleeping in our house.” Chills ran up and down my arms. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying…” She stood. “…to sleep with a gun. I’m saying that we can’t trust her. I’m saying —” “I’m taking off.” Mil swept back into the room.

We both watched her leave. The door slammed. “And now…” Trace sighed as tears filled her eyes. “…she’s going to die. He said he’d kill her if she left.” “Wait.” I stood and grabbed the chair in front of me, bracing myself. “Maybe if we just talk to her.” Trace snorted. “Look, the car hasn’t even started yet.” I frowned “I’ll be right back.” I ran outside without my phone, my purse, I walked away from protection, and right into the barrel of a gun. Tears streamed down Mil’s face. “I’m sorry, El. It’s the only way. I tried…” Her voice caught. “They want you. It’s the only way.” Memories slammed into me, memories of Dante’s kiss, his laugh, the time at the ranch house. I swallowed and held up my hands. “Please, Mil. Whatever this is, we can get through it, just let one of the guys help you.” “They can’t,” she whispered, gritting her teeth. “Don’t you think I want them to? Don’t you think I

want help? They’ll get killed, every last one of them, they’ll walk into a trap. I’ve looked at this from every angle, and the only one that makes sense, the only one that will make them happy is your death. Can you do that for me?” The gun shook in her hand. “Can you sacrifice your life so I can have mine back? You’ve known Dante a few weeks, I’ve known Chase for the last two years. He’s my life! I deserve a life with him!” “You do,” I agreed. “You deserve a life with Chase, just like I deserve a life with Dante.” “Do you love him?” Her chest rose and fell as she lowered the gun. “I love him.” I felt my body relax as my eyes filled with tears. “I love him.” “Well.” She put the gun away. “Shit.” I started backing toward the door. She held the gun up again, her eyes darting from left to right before she jerked her head to the Mercedes. “Get in.” “Mil—” “Get in before I shoot you.” I closed my eyes, I held onto the memories, the

seconds, the hours I had in his arms, and did the only thing possible. I whispered, “Goodbye.” And said thank you to God for giving me at least twenty-four hours of Heaven — after years in Hell. Once I was in the car, Mil put the gun away and hit reverse then accelerated out of the driveway like we were in a NASCAR race. Mil started crying again as she trained her gun on my head, El, “Please, just don’t move. I can’t —” Tears streamed down her face; she wiped them away with the gun then pointed it back at me. “Do you think God would forgive me for the sins I’ve committed? Do you think Chase would?” Shaking fingers covered in blood swipe under her eyes, I didn’t even realize she was bleeding. “I just wanted to prove myself, save my family—” She gulped. “And I’ve lost everything.” “You don’t know that,” I said softly. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” “I do.” Mil sobered. “Tonight will end in blood, whether or not it’s mine or someone else’s is the only question. And I’m the reason for it.” She hung

her head. “They want you. You’re a loose end.” “You should have married Chris, this would be over by then, you know that? The plan was simple. I wanted out. They wanted you. I had it all mapped out, the gas station he would go by before leaving town, the flat tire in his car, the freak robbery that would take place killing you both. Clean. Easy. An accident. I didn’t think Dante was capable of doing the right thing.” Stunned, I stared straight ahead. “You were going to kill me.” “To save them? To save my family? Myself? Yes. I would kill you. I would kill you and not think twice. How much is a life worth, El? You were supposed to die right along with your parents.” “But I didn’t.” “No,” She snorted. “Because Luca Nicolasi put you under someone else’s protection and by the time anyone knew who you were, Xavier was owed a favor. You’re lucky you’re beautiful — it’s what kept you alive.” “Lucky,” I repeated. “Yeah, that’s what I’m feeling right now, lucky.”

“I’m going to make it better,” Mil nodded. “I know what needs to happen. I just don’t want to make that phone call, you know the one where you hear the person’s voice one last time knowing that there is no going back?” She put the gun down and grabbed her phone. I couldn’t grab both the gun and the wheel without killing both of us. So I stayed still. Chase answered on the first ring. “Mil?” I could hear Dante in the background. My heart clenched. “Why are you calling me when you’re in the same house—” He stopped. Cursed. “Mil, where are you?” “I love you,” her voice was quiet, solemn. “I need you to know that. I need you to know that I will love you for the rest of my life. I don’t want this. I never wanted this.” “Mil!” His voice broke. “Mil what’s wrong? Just tell me so I can fix it.” “You can’t fix this, Chase.” Another tear ran down her cheek. “I have El. I had no choice. They all have guns, they’re good shots. Make sure Dante

enters first, followed by Nixon. you have to promise me you’ll walk in last. Follow my tracker. I’ll lead you right to them.” “MIL!” “Promise me, or I’m killing her right now.” Mil mouthed a sorry to me but didn’t reach for her gun. Instead, she looked broken, as if she wanted me to steal it and shoot her. “I promise.” His voice hitched. “I promise I’ll walk in last.” “Good.” She exhaled. “That’s good.” The phone line cracked as Chase started yelling at Dante to grab his shit and get Nixon. “Life was perfect with you, Chase. I did this. This is all on me.” “It’s going to be fine, Mil, we’ll get you out of it. I swear.” “Blood in,” she whispered. “No out.” And hung up the phone.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Dante CHASE DIDN’T HAVE to tell me what was going on for me to know, I saw the anguish in his eyes first — second I saw the determination, the fierce loyalty that was torn between blood. And his wife. “Dante get Nixon now, call Sergio, Phoenix, Frank, Tex — get them all — they have El.” I don’t remember speaking to Nixon, my vision was red, my body felt heavy with rage as I strapped

another gun to my leg and pulled out my Glock and made sure I had enough ammo. It took the guys three minutes to make it to the house. Frank was in a suit. Completely unarmed. Or so I thought, until he opened his suit jacket and I saw a glimpse of at least three guns and what looked like a grenade. I felt both ready to puke and ready to bomb the entire world in order to find her, in order to kill Mil for taking her. I paced while Chase gave everyone a rundown of the conversation with Mil, and with each word from his mouth the anger took over more and more until I didn’t even recognize the thoughts running through my head or the way my blood pulsed through my body. “Dante pulls the trigger,” Nixon said. “If it comes to that, he’s agreed for all our sakes—” “No.” Chase licked his lips, giving each and every one of the men a look, “This is on me. She’s my wife. I said in sickness and in death — and I meant it.”

I wasn’t sure if I respected him more in that moment. Or less. Because his job was to protect her. And yet, part of me knew that maybe the only way to protect her from them — was to be the first one to kill her. Sergio grabbed his iPad from the front seat of his brand new Tesla and swore. “They’re on campus.” “Where?” Chase grabbed the iPad. “The Spot.” I gritted my teeth. “They said something big was going down this week, tomorrow night actually. If she’s on campus, she’s with them.” We all fell silent. Our enemy had been in our own house. Working with the Russians. “Looks like I get to shoot him first after all.” I got into Sergio’s car with Chase, while the guys got in Tex’s. The drive was silent. My nerves were shot. My blood pulsed, pounded. Please God let her

be alive. I couldn’t think past the need to shed every ounce of blood from every single bastard who’d touched her. And Mil? My fingers itched to make her feel pain the way I was feeling pain. “I’m sorry,” Chase said hoarsely from the back seat. “I’m so damn sorry, Dante.” “Not your fault.” I clamped my jaw. “You get that right?” “I should have pushed harder,” he rasped. “And now—” “Shut the hell up,” Sergio interjected. “Both of you.” He turned off the music that was playing lightly in the background. “This is our fucking job all right? We walk in without emotion. We kill without emotion. We bleed without emotion. For a few moments in time, we stop being human and get the job done. Any questions?” Any other day and I’d question what kind of sick bastard my sister married. Any other day where the love of my life wasn’t with the enemy.

“Nope, no questions,” I finally said. Chase was quiet in the back seat. Sergio must have known he needed more than that, because he veered off the side of the road, put the car in park and turned around, grabbed Chase by the shirt and jerked him close to his face. “You do what needs to be done. You mourn tomorrow, got me? You’re the best shot we have, you’re an assassin for shits sake. Act like it.” He put his seat belt back on, tires screeched as we got back on the road to the University. And in the rearview mirror I saw Chase go from terror. To purpose. A cool mask replaced his normal cheerful demeanor. He didn’t look human. He looked how I felt. Like he’d kill anyone who stood in his way and shoot them again just in case. We pulled up to the University. Sergio shut off the car and turned to me. “You’re the Alfero Boss — they have your wife —

don’t hesitate, you won’t get the luxury of time.” I gave him a curt nod and opened my door. Tex normally joked. He looked angry. Pissed as hell. None of the guys looked happy to be there. Like we knew we had to do the hard thing. But nobody wanted to step up and do it. Dark circles rimmed Phoenix’s eyes as he walked over to Chase and put his hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear before slapping him on the back and grabbing his gun. A week ago I would have charged ahead. A week ago I wasn’t their equal. I’d still been trying to prove myself. Today, I walked with them, toward a building that held El, toward an uncertain future. Tex sighed and made a cross over his heart. Frank kissed a necklace and shoved it back under his shirt, while Nixon bent down and touched the grass, it seemed everyone had their weird quirks before battle. The red haze in front of my face lifted just

briefly as Tex jerked the door open to the spot. I walked in first the rest followed. We went in exactly how we were instructed by Mil. Rapid gunshots went off. I wasn’t sure if they were ours or theirs. By the time we all made it in, with Chase close behind us, Nixon was on the ground with a gun to his head and Frank was firing shots into Maksim’s face. El’s hands were tied, Mil was behind her, a gun pointed at her temple. “Whoa!” Andrei grinned. “Well done, Mil, you really got every last one of them in here for me. Impressive. When we started this working relationship I thought you were full of shit! And now, every single boss comes to the meeting.” Nixon’s eyes burned with rage at Mil. He was holding his leg as it bled all over the concrete. “Now,” Andrei grinned wider. “Shall we discuss terms?” “Terms?” Tex laughed, “I’m sorry we don’t negotiate with shitty little terrorists in school

uniforms, I think you’ve got the wrong family for that, say your dad enjoying prison? I heard he drops the soap on purpose… just because he likes the feel of—” Andrei shot near Tex’s head, Tex jerked away and glared. “Careful, you know who I am, little one, one snap of my fingers and there won’t be anywhere you can go where my family won’t find you.” “Perhaps.” Andrei shrugged, “It was a warning shot, I’m not stupid, in fact, I want to propose a business arrangement.” “I’m listening.” Tex crossed his arms. “Thanks to the lovely Mil,” Andrei licked his lips like he’d tasted her, kissed her. Chase tensed next to me, I held him back with my hand. “The De Lange family has become quite rich, she’s been helping us open shipping channels for our new little drug ring and we’ve been giving her a cut, but sadly it’s not enough cash flow. We want all of Seattle, San Francisco, New York—” “Yeah, I’m going to stop you right there.” Tex chuckled. “Nikolai Blazik owns Seattle, no way in hell is he going for that.”

“He will if you tell him to.” Andrei shrugged. “Get him to agree? Why do I care? I don’t want war. I want money. Money speaks more than war. Don’t you think, Mil? After all,” he walked over to her and patted her face. “I promised you money and look what you were willing to do for me?” Chase growled next to me. “What’s in it for us?” Tex asked casually. “I won’t kill Mil and I get El.” I lunged forward. “The hell you will!” “And you,” Andrei pointed his gun at me. “I still can’t figure you out — tell you what, you stay good on your promise to help me, I give you everything you need and you get to keep El, but you have to tie up every loose end here.” Either kill all of them and I live with El. Or El dies and they walk away with Mil. My eyes fell to Nixon. The only way out was in. The only way out was to make it look like I believed every ounce of shit he was throwing at us. So I grabbed my gun and nodded. “What would you prefer? Head shots? Body shots? We don’t

want things to get too messy, now do we?” Andrei grinned. Like he knew I would make that choice. Like he had me right where he wanted me. And I inwardly grinned knowing — I was going to take everything from him and do it with a smile on my face.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Dante I PRAYED NIXON

would know me well enough to

see what was coming. Andrei motioned for the men to walk away from all of the bosses. I took the floor. Faced them all. My brothers in blood and in war. I locked eyes with Nixon and fired a shot directly into the same leg he was holding. His eyes rolled back into his skull before he gave his head a

shake and smirked. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each shot spiraled toward the intended boss. Blood was spilled, running like a river across the concrete. The familiar smell of blood invaded my nostrils as it ran down my wrists, it’s hot wetness fueling the anger inside. “Again,” Nixon screamed, his eyes flashed with fury as blood caked his face. “Do it again.” So I did. And again. And again. And again. I fired a warning shot next to Tex again, then hit him in the left arm. He didn’t even flinch. And when I took down Sergio with a shot to his thigh, he grabbed it and fell, reaching for his gun before collapsing against the ground. Rapid fire continued out of my gun until every last one of the bosses were on the ground holding

their wounds. Bloody. Broken. “Finish him,” a cold voice commanded. Finish them, was what he really meant. “Give me one good reason why I should.” I didn’t recognize my own voice, it might as well have been a stranger talking for me. “I’ll give you the only reason.” A gun was held in front of my face — pointed directly at her. “Now finish him.” Andrei hesitated and said, “Better yet, finish them all. You walk out of here with your girl, this all goes away. You’re the last remaining made man, maybe Mil will even let you work for her, the De Langes clearly need more people they can trust.” I snorted out a laugh. “You know…” I took the gun from his outstretched hand, the Russian gun with its gold plates and a black P on the right side. “I really don’t like working for other people.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ring and shoved it on my finger. “I think the title boss

suites me much better.” His gaze flickered down just enough for me to shove against him place my gun in the side of his chest and pull the trigger. He fell as Maksim scrambled to grab a gun behind him. Chaos ensued as the guys all started firing from their positions. Nobody had critical wounds. I was careful. Nixon smashed a guy’s head in then fired a few shots after him, Mil collapsed to the ground. El reached for her. Andrei grinned as he lifted his gun and fired direct shots into Mil’s body. I charged toward him and hit the gun out of his hand and turned. El was leaning over Mil, her hands were bloodied. I ran like hell and pulled her into my arms. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She shook against me. “It’s not my blood.” Mil held her thigh and winced as blood ran

down her chin. Most of Andrei’s men had fled. And when I turned around he was gone too. “We lost him.” Tex looked ready to take off. “Shit!” Nixon winced. Nobody was in good shape to chase after anyone. Not since I shot them all — but it was the only way. We circled around Mil. “You did this,” Nixon said. “But that doesn’t mean—” “Just get it over with.” She hiccupped as more blood came out of her mouth. “Don’t let me suffer this way.” She grabbed Chase’s hand and held the point of his gun to her chest. His hand shook. He dropped it. So I held up my gun and pointed, ready to fire, ready to do what nobody else could. And then a gunshot rang out, followed by two more as Mil went limp in Chase’s arms. Phoenix lowered his gun, a solitary tear ran

down his cheek and dropped onto his sister’s body. “Nobody deserves to live with that sort of taint on their soul—” He nodded to Chase. “Especially her husband.” He licked his lips and bent down over her. “It’s my job to keep the family’s secrets — what’s one more?” She would have died anyway. She had internal bleeding. That didn’t make her death sentence any easier to deal out. To serve. Chase closed his eyes and pressed a hand to her bloody chest. “Blood of my blood, you’re free — find rest—” He choked out a sob, “at the end of your journey, may you be blessed, may your family be blessed, may their lives be blessed, may they be protected by the blood you spilled. Sangue in nessun fouri.” “Sangue.” We crossed our chests. “In Nessun Fuori.” Out of respect for Chase, I backed away, the rest of the men followed, and then, I watched him mourn.

I saw him break. Shatter before my very eyes. “WHY!” Chase screamed. “Ti Amavo! Ti Amavo!” he roared it over and over again. I loved you. I loved you. “Io, sono morta.” I am dead too. El ducked her head against my chest and sobbed. And I watched. I watched a man unbecome. And I knew, nothing would ever be the same.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

El I DIDN’T LET go of his hand the entire ride back to the house. The women were lined up outside waiting. Every man limped out of their cars, dripping in their own blood, blood that Dante had no choice but to spill. I know why he did it. It was the only way out. In.

And each of them were thankful in their own way, you saw it in the way they suddenly looked at him, like they should have never doubted his loyalty, his honor. I felt it in the way he walked, his head tall, his shoulders heavy with guilt, with the hard thing he had to do to the very people he vowed to protect. This was our future. These were our moments. However short and violent. They were ours to hold, ours to keep, ours to treasure until more war. But at least we had them, and at least we were together. Mo ran into Tex’s arms and kissed his face. Trace held out their child to Nixon who grinned and squeezed his baby girl so tight she didn’t stop giggling. Frank kissed Trace on the head while Bee launched herself at Phoenix and spoke softly to his face as she held their boy to him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. I watched as everyone celebrated. I watched as everyone waited.

And my heart broke when Chase, slowly, got out of the SUV. Without Mil. Without his heart. Missing his very soul. Mo gasped and covered her face with her hands while Bee started sobbing in Phoenix’s arms. And Trace. Trace ran. She ran so fast, so hard into Chase’s arms that he fell over backward. She held his face between her hands forcing him to look at her. “This is not your fault.” “Trace—” “Look at me!” Chase closed his eyes. “Fucking look at me Chase!” She yelled beating his chest with her fists. He opened his tear filled eyes. “This isn’t your fault.” She said it over and over again, and kept saying it until Chase broke in her arms, until a part of the man came back, until emotion filled his cracked voice. She rocked him in her lap.

Nixon handed his little girl to her grandpa. Walked over to Chase. And wrapped his arms around both Trace and Chase while Chase continued to cry. I’d never seen a man so broken. I clung to Dante harder while he swore under his breath. “You did what you had to do,” I spoke against his chest, needing to feel his heartbeat against my face. “I’m sorry, I was trying to help her, I didn’t know she would try to take me, I had—” Dante pressed a kiss to my mouth. “This wasn’t on you, El. This death, this betrayal…” He shuddered. “It was on us.” “But—” “Us,” he repeated firmly. “This is something we should have stopped, something that could have ended very differently, all right?” I nodded and clung to the front of his shirt. The sound of Chase’s guttural sobs were the only thing filling the air. Dante frowned, and stopped walking with me, then turned on his heel and walked right up to

Chase and said. “She gets a real funeral.” He looked around to all the shocked faces. “As far as anyone knows, she died with honor, no double crossing, we keep this quiet — not for us — but for Chase. Agreed?” More silence. And then Tex pulled out a blade and sliced across his palm and held out his hand to Chase. Chase took the knife with shaky hands, slid it deep across his palm, and slammed his hand against Tex’s as he pulled Chase to his feet. Nixon pulled Trace away, and slowly people gave him space, until it was just Sergio standing in front of him. The one man who knew pain like no one else. Who lived to tell about it. Who got a second chance even though he didn’t deserve it. It was hard not to watch the silent exchange between them, the haunting moment when cold ruthless Sergio pulled Chase into his arms and whispered something in his ear, refusing to let go of him.

“Let’s give them time,” Dante grabbed my hand. By the time we made it inside, there were at least ten bottles of wine scattered around Nixon’s table. Frank was already on what looked like his second glass. We surrounded the table. Frank lined shot glasses in the middle. Filled them with vodka. Then did the same with wine glasses. One for each of us. And then left three empty wine glasses, three empty shot glasses in the middle of the table. He raised his shot. “To the fallen. Blood in. No out. May you find peace, Luca Nicolasi, Andi Abandonato, Mil Abandonato.” With shaking hands I took my shot and then held my glass and sipped. Nobody told me this life would be easy. Nobody told me it would break my heart. I leaned against Dante, I needed him more than I needed my next breath, I needed a reminder that there was more than death, more than blood.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Chase locked eyes with me as if he was sorry I had to share his pain. As if he wished he could take it all so none of us would have to feel even a fraction of what he felt. But I couldn’t help it. So much death. When does it stop? “Everyone,” Tex cleared his throat. “Tonight we drink, tomorrow we rest.” He sighed and clasped hands with Chase. “Tomorrow night, we make arrangements.” Sergio slowly pulled out a few med kits and started sewing up whoever needed sewing up, the shocking part was that he was able to even do it with a gunshot wound that still bled through whatever bandage he’d already put on it. “Medical school.” Val sat down next to me and watched her husband with terror filled eyes. “I could have lost him.” “But you didn’t.” I put my hand in hers. She blinked back tears and nodded. “I know. It’s just… it hurts to know it happened within these

walls.” She said what everyone had been too afraid to admit out loud. Sergio stopped his sutures. Nixon shared a look with Tex. And everyone fell quiet. Chase was already on his next glass of wine and well on his way to being drunk so I hope he hadn’t heard it. A loud banging had me shooting up from my seat just as the door to the garage opened and Nikolai made his way through clutching a woman’s’ hand. She was gorgeous with dark jet-black hair and model like features. She looked like she belonged on Vogue. Not in our living room. “I came as soon as I heard.” He dropped her hand as she walked around and hugged Sergio, like she knew him. I frowned. Nikolai must have seen it, he made his way toward my seat and knelt down. “I am sorry.” “What?” “Sorry you must stay in this life.” He spoke

slowly. “And stop staring at my wife like she’s the enemy, she’s no more Petrov than you are.” “Petrov?” “One of his long-lost daughters.” She smiled sadly at me. “May he rot in Hell.” “Amen.” Everyone said in unison while Nikolai stood and walked over to Chase. He was sitting in the corner, his expression blank, his posture like he was trying to hold himself together when all he wanted to do was break. Nikolai crossed his arms. “I offer you the same I would any brother. Do you want me to kill you?” I sucked in a breath. Dante locked eyes with me like this was a first. I waited. The room was tense. Trace made a move to Chase but Nixon held her back. Chase stared down into his glass and said. “Yes.” I covered my mouth with my hands. “But I’m drunk.” He spoke slowly. “Ask when I’m sober.”

“That’s fair.” He patted Chase on the shoulder and reached for a wine bottle, “All right, who do I need to fix up? I see blood on every boss and only one person slightly capable of doing sutures that won’t leave scarring.” Sergio flipped him off. And slowly, the guys sat down, and let him poke them with needles. Conversation flowed just like wine — and the entire time, I swear, I never saw Chase even blink.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Dante MY BODY ACHED. My heart hurt. My eyes burned. I walked El to what used to be our shared bathroom, and pulled her in to the shower, stripping her blood-soaked clothes off of her while she numbly watched me. Mil’s blood. It was Mil’s blood that ran down the drain.

And I was a bastard for not being sorry. I would do it again. I would pull the trigger. That sort of betrayal put everything these guys had ever worked for — in jeopardy. And for what? Money? I know Chase knew this, I know the guys knew this — but it didn’t make it easier. I think it would be easier if it was an accident. Instead, it was planned. A planned betrayal. Against those you love. It’s like sleeping with a gun pointed at someone’s heart knowing that you have plans to pull the trigger and watch them bleed. Plans to enjoy it. “Look at me,” I gripped her chin between my hands. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” I kissed her cheeks, kissed her tears. “Tell me what to do.” She shuddered out a breath. “Exactly what you’re doing.” I washed her body, angry that I saw bruises that sure as hell weren’t there the day before. Terrified

of what I was capable of when it came to the woman I was touching. I would destroy the world for her. And I would demand she let me. “I was supposed to die,” She admitted. I paused. “What?” “Chris and I were supposed to get in an accident.” Tears filled her eyes. “I was her out.” “You for her freedom,” I corrected her. She nodded. “And the sick part? I don’t know anything! They want me to finish a damn job! They want me for my blood! It’s a death bent on pride and revenge!” “It’s the Russians.” I finally answered before finishing with her arms and moving down her thighs, my hands danced across her lips as I gripped her hips between my fingers and kissed her belly button, resting my head against her stomach before looking up. Water cascaded down her hair, across her stomach, onto my face. “I would do anything for you,” I whispered reverently. “Tell me you’d do the same for me. Tell

me no amount of money, no amount of power—” “Nothing,” She fell to her knees in front of me. “Nothing could separate me from you.” I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear her say that until a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. Until I gripped her body, my kisses frantic as I lifted her against the tiled wall and thrust into her again and again. Until she screamed out my name on her lips. And I caught it with my tongue while I plunged into her one last time, painfully aware of how much I would destroy — if she ever betrayed me. If she ever betrayed us. “Thank you,” She said between soft kisses after I let her slide back down to her feet. “For saving me.” I sighed, our heads touched. “I think you have that backward.” She frowned. “You were never the one that needed saving, El. I on the other hand…” I gripped her wrist and pressed her palm against my heart. “I did.” Our mouths met softly.

We kissed until the shower went cold. And when I picked up her shivering body and laid her across my bed like a feast, I tried to make her forget about the blood. The death. I tried to thank her for saving me. When I never even realized I needed saving.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Chase I

WASN’T SUPPOSED

to be planning my wife’s

funeral. I stared down into the bottle of whiskey in one hand and the stain of her blood in my other. “Hey, can I come in?” Phoenix was already walking in. I didn’t have the energy to point a gun at him or even respond. Instead, I lifted the bottle to my lips and winced as more tears gathered in my eyes.

Fuck I smelled her everywhere. I pressed a palm to my eye. I needed to burn the room. Torch it. And everything in it. My jumbled mind couldn’t get past the betrayal. My heart refused to stop cracking, and with each crack it felt like my last breath. “Chase,” Phoenix licked his lips. “She was your wife, she was my sister.” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “I don’t know why she did this — but I do know what this life does to good people. I just talked with Dante — she was going to kill Chris and El in a car accident, that was the plan, and they would let her out.” “Shit.” How much more could the human heart take? I felt like I had a knife in my back and one stuck in between my ribs. “But since she married Dante…” My voice trailed off. “I have something for you, I don’t know… I don’t know if you want it. I don’t know if it’s going to make things better or worse.”

“A gunshot to the head would make things better, Phoenix, just do it already.” He smiled sadly. “I’m not shooting you.” “Then get out and find Nikolai,” I spat, truly feeling suicidal, like I didn’t want the privilege of breathing. He held out a black envelope. “This was delivered by one of the De Lange associates a half hour ago.” With shaking hands. I took it and frowned. “You know what it is?” “I have an idea.” Phoenix shoved his hands in his pockets. “Burn it, read it, I don’t care.” He walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind him. I chucked the envelope across the room and stared it down while I downed another gulp of whiskey. I wanted to burn it. I wanted to pretend it was her so I could yell at it. So I could get answers, so I could ask. Why. Just. Why.

Why I wasn’t enough. Why we weren’t enough. Why she broke us. Why she shattered my heart. I wanted to ask her if it was worth it. All of it. “Is this what you fucking wanted?” I shouted at the envelope. “To destroy me?” I fell to my knees in front of it and picked it up again. I jerked the paper out and stared at her perfect penmanship. Of her speaking to me from her grave. A grave that would be dug too soon. For a wife I wanted to grow old with. Have children with. I couldn’t look away. I started to read. Chase, I love you. I want you to know that if you’re reading this, it means something went wrong. I never wanted to hurt you. I know how lame that sounds.

I know how arrogant it sounds, and I’m the one writing it. I thought… I thought I could do a job on the side, help the Petrov family, they needed to get shipments in the country, and I knew a way to do it. Things were fine for the first two months. I rarely saw them. And then, Andrei started calling on me or my guys for odd jobs, he paid well, so they did them, and I allowed it. I got in too deep. And when I realized what he was actually doing, not just moving drugs but illegal weapons, and a sex ring I still have no information on. I decided to start gathering intel, just in case I’d need a way out. He manipulated me. So I tried to manipulate him right back. It backfired.

He found out. Destroyed most of the evidence I had. And owned me. He owned me, Chase. It was my arrogance. It was never planned betrayal. And then he offered me another out — a way to go back to you, a way to forget everything. El. I’m ashamed to admit I took it. I didn’t know her. She was just another target. And in the grand scheme of things. You were my reason for living, you and the family we were trying to build, the life we had, our future. Obviously, that didn’t work out since she just left here with Dante. I saw his face when I got up from the dinner table. He loves her.

And he should. There is no way out, Chase. I’m writing this because I see no way out other than to leave you, to protect you, to protect the rest of the families. Please forgive me. Forgive me for not being enough. Forgive me for not being stronger. Forgive me for not telling you how much I love you every second of every day. Forgive me for being a coward. Forgive me for not being worthy of the Abandonato name. The white horse… the one you’ve been searching for, the one Phoenix refuses to let you have? It’s been right in front of you this entire time. I glanced up, my eyes frantic, then looked back down. I constantly moved it, it was like a game. I wanted you to find it, but I also

felt like as long as it was watching over us — everything would be okay. Look on my dresser, in my jewelry box. It’s not very big. But it means everything to me. Because it’s part of our story. And I hope that one day, you’ll find someone who can help you continue it. One day, you’ll find someone who isn’t constantly competing or in your shadow, but someone who allows you to protect them, to give them the love they deserve. I never deserved you. I took you anyway. I’ll never be sorry for those moments in your arms. But I’d rather burn in Hell then steal the smile from your face, the laughter from your heart. Please live. Please. And know. I love you.

And will love you. Forever. —Emiliana De Lange Abandonato I read the letter twice. As tears rolled down my face onto her handwriting. And with slow steps, I made my way to the dresser. The white horse was exactly where she’d said it would be. I clutched it in my hand, my body convulsed. With a cry I fell to my knees, still holding it, still wishing it was magic that could bring her back. Wishing it was me who was dead. Not her. Not the woman I loved. Not the woman who’d risked it all — and lost. I held the horse out on my palm and vowed. I would never be the same. Never. And I would hold onto my resentment, until it turned into anger, until it burned and fueled the

hate. Because I didn’t want to feel. Not anymore. I stood and shoved the white horse into my pocket. Another knock sounded. Trace let herself in, closing the door behind her. She walked directly into my arms. “I wish I would have married you instead,” I confessed. “Maybe then this wouldn’t hurt so fucking bad.” “Because you never loved me the way you loved her.” She cupped my face and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “It hurts because you loved her.” “It hurts because she broke my fucking heart,” I rasped. It was minutes. Hours. Days. I wasn’t sure. Finally, Trace left. And I stared up at the ceiling, clutching a white horse in my right hand, and a bottle of whiskey in

my left, wondering. When I would ever feel okay again?

EPILOGUE

Dante “HOW DOES

IT

feel?” I held out a carrot to the

cow. El frowned. “It’s not a horse.” “Don’t cows eat vegetables?” “And I’m the one that has to stay in college,” she muttered bitterly. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her forehead while the cow reached for the carrot over my shoulder.

Trace jogged down to us. “Dinner’s ready and why are you trying to feed a cow a carrot?” “It’s a vegetable.” I shrugged. “Men,” Trace muttered, grabbing El’s hand and pulling her away from me. I glanced up at the perfect porch. A porch I never thought I’d see again. Tex sat at the head of the table. Frank on the other side. And the rest of the bosses and their wives started passing around plates. And then there was Chase. Sitting in the corner. Staring out into the field. One week and he hadn’t spoken to anyone other than hello and goodbye. Trace and Sergio got the most words out of him. And it was tearing Nixon apart. To see his best friend so broken. I rubbed a bruise on my cheek, and winced at the contact. I let him beat the shit out of me for seven days straight and then tapped out and shoved Nixon into

the ring. I’d never seen so much anger in another human being. I thought I was the King of anger. And then this happened. Chase wasn’t a man anymore. It’s like my monster saw his loss and fed on his empty soul. I felt light. And he went dark. His eyes were dull. His complexion pale all the time. He looked like he spent his nights battling demons, and his days drinking them away. El whistled me over. I dropped the carrot and jogged to my family. And when Chase still didn’t join, I grabbed him a plate and brought it over. We sat. And ate in silence. At least he was eating. “We sparring later?” I asked. “You finally healed up enough to let me beat you to death again?” he mused, his lips twitching. “Barely,” I grumbled. “It’s not exactly fair if

you can’t fight back.” He shrugged. Nixon walked over and joined us. “I’ve been thinking.” “Always dangerous.” Trace sat down followed by El until the entire family surrounded Chase on the ground with their food and drinks. He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he just lacked the energy to get up on his feet and walk. Maybe his heart didn’t know how to pump the necessary blood to each organ anymore. Maybe it really was unfixable. “Our family lawyer’s old as hell and we’re going to need a new one to represent the families in the next few years, we need wills drawn up, money dispersed, all that sort of shit. And most of all we need someone good at their damn job.” “So?” Chase shrugged. “So, find one.” Nixon grinned. “One what?” Chase fired back. “I can’t just walk down the street with my gun pointed and ask for a lawyer.” “I’ll get you a list,” Sergio offered. “You

interview them, pick one you think is reliable and we go from there.” “This sounds like bitch work.” Chase glared. Nixon just shrugged. “Well, the way I see it, we’re in need of one and it will at least force you to shower.” Chase swore. I waited for him to say no. But he said nothing. Which meant he was thinking about it. Which meant I wouldn’t be losing any more sleep, standing outside his room, waiting for a gunshot to go off. Waiting for my best friend to join his wife. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll do it.” Read Chase’s second chance story, Eulogy, releasing February 2018

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

RACHEL VAN DYKEN is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866! You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. And make sure to check out her website.

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