Another fucking disaster.
It’s like I’m reverting back to the troubled teenager who couldn’t reel in his emotions. It’s been years since I’ve lost control like I did at dinner last night. But Elisa dragged it out of me.
Why’d she have to bring up Mom?
Before that, I was finally settling the both of us down. Sure, I snapped at her monster comment upstairs, but then I tried to make up for it. Her first taste of freedom, her favorite food, I gave her what she wanted. Then she had to go and try to climb over the wall I have built up around my past.
I could blame Tara for weakening the foundation earlier in the night. I could blame Manuel Vignotto for springing Ciro on me without any warning. Hell, I could even blame myself for not re-paving that wall before I allowed myself to see Elisa.
Instead, I’ll blame her.
The D’Ignoti princess. Her pull was too strong to resist. Last night, even after all the shit that was going on, I just had to see her. Had to deliver that special ring to her in person.
Part of me probably wanted to finally get a positive reaction. Maybe even a smile. The jeweler assured me that mine was a ring meant for a princess. A diamond made to melt any heart.
But there were no smiles for me. The only time I saw Elisa’s white teeth was when Tara joked that she’d fuck her if given the chance.
Shit must really be falling apart, because I found myself fighting back an uproar of jealousy even at that small comment. Jealousy ruled me last night. And it destroyed Elisa.
When I left her in the garden, she was a husk. I should be proud—that’s what I set out to accomplish—but I’m not proud. I’m barely even holding myself together.
I’m such a fucking asshole. And a coward to boot. I couldn’t even look Tara in the face when I slunk from the garden last night, leaving my guards to escort Elisa back to her room.
I avoided her this morning too. Maybe Tara’s right, I have changed. I’ve never shied away from confrontation before. But this is different. It feels more raw than anything I’ve ever experienced before. And that’s saying something.
Fucking hell.
When I shut the front door behind me this morning, I just couldn’t leave. There was something holding me back. Something I needed to do. So, I marched back upstairs and personally unlocked Elisa’s bedroom door. My orders were clear. If anything happens to her, everyone pays. But she’s now allowed to wander the grounds. Under close supervision, of course.
Also, while the last thing I wanted to do was talk to Tara, I did let Meave know that the two younger women could keep each other company, as long as they remained under the watchful gaze of my security team. A way to kill two birds with one stone. Tara is lonely up in these hills too. The big difference is, she’s free to leave at any time. And I guess she doesn’t have me terrorizing her every other night either. At least, not directly.
I’m sure they’ll both be happy with the rule change.
Personally, I’m still not sure how I feel about it—but that little display of mercy was enough to finally get me out of the front door and onto the helicopter.
I’ll keep the rest of Elisa’s clothes and those books of hers for another time. Too much mercy at any one time might give her the impression that I’m begging for her forgiveness.
I’m not. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I’m just trying to ease my conscience so that it’s ready for what’s to come. If I’m going to survive this upcoming storm, I can’t be second guessing myself. This is my plan. My way forward. And I’m sticking to it, because if I don’t, then I’ll lose more than just everything.
I’ll lose myself.
“Woah, boss. What’s wrong?” Nolan is the first to see me when I enter the office at his club. Shane, of course, is running late.
“What?”
“You’re all wild-eyed, bro. Did you sleep a wink last night?”
I find the closest mirror. He’s right, I look like a mess. “Let’s not worry about our sleeping schedules,” I grumble, trying to wipe the stubble from my chin.
“Hey, I don’t blame you. Ciro needs to be taught a fucking lesson, and if his daughter was under my roof, I’d make sure he’d learn it through her.”
“She’s not under your roof,” I growl, a wave of jealousy cresting behind my chest. It takes a struggle to put a plug on it. “Fuck. Everything is shit, Nolan.”
“Trouble in paradise?” That’s Shane’s voice. He carelessly strolls in through the office door, looking like he had a hell of a night too.
“Trouble everywhere,” I respond, eyeing him closely. Something’s off. “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been working,” he grins. His shades come off and I see the black eye.
“Where the fuck did you get that?”
“I told you, I was working.”
I pinch my nose. Everything is crumbling. My plan with Elisa. My plan with Ciro. My plan for the empire. My plan for my brothers.
“On the streets?”
“Where else is there to work?”
“Here. The office downtown. Anywhere inside. Leave the dirty work to me, Shane. I’ve told you a thousand times. I don’t want Nolan or you getting caught up in the darkness.”
Now it’s Nolan’s turn to jump in. “Too late for that, big bro. We were there at the icebox, remember? We’re all in. It’s not like you to forget.”
I didn’t forget, I’d just hoped that they had.
“Seriously, what’s wrong, Aiden?” Nolan asks. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Is the D’Ignoti princess giving you trouble? I’ll take care of her, if you want.”
I shoot Shane a sharp look and he knows he’s crossed a line. My two brothers lean against the pool table and look at me like I’m the one we should be concerned about. It shouldn’t be like that. I’m the one who’s always had their backs.
But I guess they’re used to me being more stoic. More untouchable. The infamous temper that controlled me as a youth has long been dormant, tamed by the responsibilities of adulthood. Now, though, it feels like little has really changed.
“The princess is fine,” I lie, gathering myself. “The problem is everything else.” My eyes find the back of Shane’s hands. His knuckles are covered in scrapes. “At least tell me you got something good out on the streets last night.”
“We found some more Russians, but they didn’t talk. They’re tough bastards. The Bulldog was tearing their guts out with a clothes hanger and all they would say was mudak this and suka that. So fucking frustrating.”
“Welcome to street work,” I grunt. “You can fill alleyways up to the brim with blood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll find shit. It’s a game of persistence.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not stopping anytime soon,” Shane assures me. “We’ll figure this out, boss.”
All I can do is nod. If he wants in, there’s not much I can do to stop him. “Just be careful. And you, Nolan. What have you been up to since the meeting?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I was in the office all night,” he smirks.
At least that’s a relief. “And?”
That smirk quickly turns to a frown. “Not much. I uncorrupted a few more stills from the fire. But they don’t show anything new. At least, not as far as I can tell.”
I brush my brow and walk up to the viewing window. “No more information from the girls?”
“You sucked it all out of them,” Shane teases. “That red-head won’t shut up about you.”
Down on the floor below, I see Ginger dancing. It doesn’t take long for her sultry gaze to wander up to mine. With a lick of her lips and a wag of her finger, she calls for me to come to her.
Unlikely. She’s given me all I need from her. Plus, I have enough women problems at home. “So, essentially, we have nothing?”
“We have Ciro,” Nolan points out.
That’s true. If his re-introduction to this mess wasn’t the cause of so much extra paranoia, I might consider it a step in the right direction. Instead, his reappearance has created more questions than answers.
“Should I pay him a visit?” Shane asks, like he’s some master interrogator now.
“No. But maybe I should send the Bulldog over.” Or maybe I’ll wait until after I give Ciro an audience with his daughter, if I’m ever ready for that. Break his spirit then break his bones. That would be the perfect way to crush him.
“I’ll go with Niall. He was showing me the ropes last night and I really think—”
“Shane,” I interrupt.
“Yeah. Yeah. I know. I’m supposed to be cooped up in some office, but I’m telling you, I’m a fucking natural. Just ask—”
“No.” I stop him again. My attention has been caught by a new girl who’s just slipped onto the stage from behind the black curtain that separates backstage from front stage. She looks entirely unfamiliar. Immediately, something feels off. “Who’s that?”
Nolan and Shane both follow my gaze. “I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
That’s concerning. Nolan owns the place and Shane comes here enough that he’s gotten to know every girl three times over. I’m no stranger to this joint either, though my visits these days are strictly work related.
She’s a stranger. A stranger during a time when we can’t even trust our supposed allies.
“What are you thinking?” Nolan asks.
No one seems to pay any attention to the dark-haired woman as she starts dancing on a stage pole. Funnily enough, her dance seems to include pressing a finger into her ear and mumbling something to herself. Almost as if she’s talking into a radio.
“She’s hot as hell,” Shane mumbles. “I call dibs—”
He stops speaking when I pull out my gun. “There’s smoke coming from behind that curtain,” I point out. It’s hard to see through the strobe lights, but sure enough, there it is.
“What the fuck?” Before I can tell Nolan to prepare his security team, the front door of the club bursts open. The dance floor is immediately eviscerated in a hail of bullets.
“Get out of here!” I order my brothers.
The pale grey smoke coming from behind the black curtains has spread. It darkens as it billows up to the ceiling, blocking off my view of the chaos that’s broken out below. I move for the stairwell.
“Like hell,” I hear Nolan say from behind me. His footsteps echo mine as I head down to the main floor. Shane follows us too.
“We’re under attack,” my youngest brother says, feeding ammo into his Glock as we post up outside the door that leads out onto the floor. There’s no time to ask where he got it. Guttural screams and heavy gunshots cut through the cement walls of the stairwell.
I point to the exit door at the back. “Take it. Now!” I order. “Both of you.”
For a split-second, Shane seems to consider my command, but Nolan isn’t having it. “All in,” he reminds me.
“Fucking hell.” It wasn’t supposed to be like this. None of it was. “Fine. You two go straight for the curtain where the smoke is coming from. I’ll lead the way and cover you. Find that new girl and bring her to me. She was sent as a surveyor. She planted a fucking smoke screen. She’ll know something. I’ll try my best to take one of these bastards alive.” I prime my weapon. “But no fucking promises. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get these fuckers.”
The second I kick open the door, a thick stream of smoke filters into the stairwell. Ahead, a bullet ricochets off a dancing pole and I find my bearings. The shooting is still coming from the front door, so that’s where I fire.
“Go!” I shout. Nolan and Shane rush for the black curtain.
It’s impossible to see more than a foot in front of my face as I rush along the walls towards the sliver of light that should be the front door. Still, I know this is bad.
In between rounds of gunshots, the club is silent. No more women scream. I have to step over more than a few lifeless arms and legs. The dance floor is soaked in blood. Someone is going to fucking pay for this.
The intruders start shooting again and I duck behind a pillar. The walls bursts all around me as my position is peppered with bullets. But my pillar stands strong. When their guns go quiet again, I step out and volley a few shots of my own.
Somehow, I manage to get to the door unharmed. But I don’t go outside. Not yet. That would be walking into a slaughter. Instead, I post up against the wall next to the propped open door and wait. When a pair of hands holding a pistol pop through the doorway, I aim and shoot. Right between the wrists. The gun drops. Before the hands can drop with it, I tug the body inside.
A quick bullet to the temple makes the screaming lug go completely limp. He’s my human shield as I push outside.
The sound of screeching tires follows my exit. It takes me a second to push through the last bits of smoke, but when I do, I spot a black range rover fleeing the scene.
“You fucks!” I shout, dropping the corpse so I can fire at the vehicle with two hands.
My bullets shatter the back window, but they’re moving too fast. I can’t get a good shot at the tires. It hardly matters. Like a miracle, the front tire suddenly gives out on the fleeing bastards and the car swerves directly into a streetlight.
Ahead, I see Shane and Nolan rushing in from the west. They fill the range rover with bullets. One of them hits the tanks. Another must hit the cement, because a rogue spark lights up the oil that’s spilled out of the wrecked car.
By the time I’m close enough to do anything about it, the whole front of the vehicle is on fire. It’s liable to explode at any moment. But we need witnesses.
I rip off my shirt and use it as a cover against the searing heat of the metal door handle. When I pry open the back door, I spot the woman who set off the smoke screen. Blood spills from her ear. She’s unconscious, but I pull her out anyway.
Nolan and Shane are immediately at my side, helping me pull her from the dangerous wreckage. As a team, we make quick work. But I’m not done. One of the men in the front has obviously woken up from his concussion. His screams of agony rise with the flames. Russians.
They’re fucking Russians.
But that only answers one question.
Shane is way ahead of me. He’s already racing back to the fire. I don’t let him get far. “It’s going to blow!” I scream, grabbing him around the collar.
“We need answers!” he shouts back. The determination in his voice almost makes me proud. This is the most focused I’ve ever seen him. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get close to that ticking time bomb.
“We’ll get our answers, I promise,” I say. Shane is big. Despite being the youngest, he’s by far the tallest. If he wanted to fight me off, he’d have a good shot. Thankfully, he lets me drag him across the parking lot and out of harm’s way.
The second we hit the curb, the car erupts.
Shrapnel races by our ears and I tackle Shane, covering him with my body.
“Holy fuck,” Nolan mutters when the dust has settled.
I look back and see the dark mushroom cloud billowing up from the fiery husk. In the distance, sirens wail. That means I should probably get out of here. You never know if the cops who show up at your shoot out are going to be under your pay roll or not. It’s best to assume they won’t be.
“You alright?” I ask Shane, helping him up.
“Yeah. I think so.” I give my youngest brother a once over. Except for some dust, he looks fine.
“You did good kid.” A gentle smack on the cheek makes him smile. “You too Nolan.”
“Thanks, boss,” he smirks.
“You should stay here. Shane and I will go to Dad’s to clean up. We’ll all reconvene there.” Nolan’s the lawyer. He can handle himself with the cops. Plus, this is his club. He should stick around and lend some legitimacy to whatever story we come up with to excuse away this violence. I trust him to make sure everything goes just right.
Shane, on the other hand, should be kept away from all trouble. The last thing we need is for his name to appear on a police report. Same thing goes for me.
“How’s she doing?” Nolan asks, looking down on the unconscious woman who started this whole disaster.
Despite being dragged from a fiery car just moments ago, her skin is cold. When I grab her wrist, there’s no pulse.
“Dead. Just like all of our fucking leads.”
