Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
When we pulled in, my dad was already stepping out onto the front walk, greeting Nixon Abandonato like they were old friends instead of old enemies with shared history.
And then I saw it.
Louis took one look at the gathering—all the old bosses present—and quietly slid the box back into the rear seat.
Relief rushed through me so hard I nearly sagged.
Okay. Not now.
Not during my mother’s birthday.
Too many eyes.
But that just raised another question.
If not now… then when?
I hated this game of Clue. Hated it with a passion. I didn’t want to guess who would be dead by dessert.
I pushed the thought away and jogged ahead, throwing my arms around Nixon before he could say a word.
“Hey!”
My uncle laughed and pulled me into a crushing hug. “You’re growing too much. Stop it.”
He really did age like fine wine. It was mildly horrifying how everyone in our family looked like they belonged on magazine covers—but the kind that came with tattoos, weapons, and warnings.
Nixon smacked my dad on the back. “You’re getting old, Dante. Gonna be a grandpa soon?”
My father choked. “She doesn’t have sex. Ever.”
I stared at him, horrified.
Louis chose that exact moment to walk up behind me and laugh. “Sure. Okay.”
Dad lunged.
Nixon caught him by the arm, chuckling. “Circle of life. She understood it when she cried during The Lion King. Give it a rest.” He glanced at Louis. “Besides, we’re celebrating your wife’s beauty—and her clear lack of intelligence for marrying you.”
I snorted despite myself.
Louis slid an arm around my waist, fingers pressing just slightly too firmly. A silent message.
Stay close.
And as the doors opened and the house swallowed us whole, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the celebration wasn’t for my mother at all.
It was a cover.
And whatever Louis had planned…
It was already in motion.
22
LOUIS
Evil is radical but only because it is chosen. — Immanuel Kant
Iwas hesitating. It was the perfect opportunity, and I was hesitating, thinking if I just did it the next day it would be fine. The box burned a hole in my brain, knowing it was in the car, knowing I could end things now.
Damn it!
I followed Tempest into the main living room and was suddenly glad my gut instinct was correct. So many bosses, from the Russians to the Italians, stood around talking, celebrating Tempest’s mom. I wouldn’t escape alive even if I bombed half the building. Those guys didn’t die easy, and they were bored during peace, meaning they were just itching for a fight.
Even Ace was still there—granted, they kept him close because they couldn’t trust him, but between him and the De Lange boss, it seemed like they just let everyone in, doors wide open, no questions asked, if you were partially related through marriage or blood it was your free pass.
Me included.
I eyed Dante like a hawk and grabbed a glass of wine from a tray when it was swiftly taken from my hands.
Phoenix, formally De Lange, who had given the Alfero title to Dante—basically a dad to the guy—stole the glass from me. “I’m going to borrow your husband.”
Tempest’s jaw dropped.
Phoenix didn’t speak unless he really wanted to. He was completely terrifying and knew more secrets than any of the world powers combined—or at least it felt that way. Sometimes I imagined we existed in this measly world simply because it amused him to allow it.
He’d been retired for a few years.
We all used that term lightly.
Nobody ever retires from the Mafia, but he’d at least earned some time off, which meant he was back in the city.
For how long?
Why?
“Quiet.” Phoenix smiled. ”I can hear your brain working. I’m not going to kill you.” He tilted his head. “Follow me.”
I squeezed Tempest’s hand then followed him down the hall to an oak door. He opened it and flicked on some lights that led down a dark staircase. I followed him down until we were in a large space with several screens, presumably security for the house, and a small bar on the side. “He hides the good stuff down here.”
I didn’t ask if the good stuff had poison. I just assumed if he wanted me dead he wouldn’t give me a drink of expensive whiskey to do it.
I’d never had a solid conversation with Phoenix.
He was above my pay grade.
I’d always been thankful for that.
And now that I had his attention, I kind of felt like throwing up. What was it about the man that made me prefer murdering in cold blood to making eye contact with his cold blue eyes?
A glass was shoved into my hands. I lifted it to my mouth. Smooth. Whiskey. Neat. I nodded. “It’s good.”
“It seems you’ve been given a task, Louis.”
So, he knew. I leaned against the table. “Are you here to stop me?”
“I’m not in the business of stopping anyone, I am however in the business of guilt and regrets.” He walked over to the table by the security screens and grabbed a black folder. “Everything I have on Cassian, let him know that in order to do what he needs to do he should grow a pair and ask.”